Off to Israel: Shayna's Adventures in Jerusalem

Instructions for Reading the Instructions

2007-10-02T21:14:00.000+03:00

Known fact: all food packages in Israel must have at least one major spelling error. This one is my favorite, by far.

A package of Osem Couscous. Inconspicuous.

Notice the directions on back.

Now look a little closer, three lines up.

"Cover the bowel and wait 15 minutes."

Are you chicken?

2007-09-20T22:42:00.001+03:00

Care of Wikipedia:

Hebrew: כפרות‎, "atonements") is a traditional Jewish religious ritual that takes place around the time of the High Holidays. Classically, it is performed by grasping a live chicken by the shoulder blades and moving around one's head three times, symbolically transferring one's sins to the chicken. The chicken is then slaughtered and donated to the poor, preferably eaten at the pre-Yom Kippur feast. Preferably, a man should use a rooster, and a woman should use a hen for the ritual.

In modern times, Kapparos is performed in the traditional form mostly in Haredi communities. Members of other communities tend to perform this ritual with charity money substituted for the chicken, swung over one's head in similar fashion.

The ritual is preceded by the reading of Psalms 107:17-20 and Job 33:23-24.

As the chicken (or money) is swung about the head, the following paragraph is traditionally recited three times:

This is my exchange, this is my substitute, this is my atonement. (This rooster (hen) will go to its death / This money will go to charity), while I will enter and proceed to a good long life and to peace.

Yes, I had a chicken swung over my head. After many years of hearing my parents say "Shlug a-kaapporis, Poi Poi Poi (that's "spit")!", I finally understood what my yiddishe-mama was talking about. Here are pics from the adventure in Mea Shearim. And yes, chicken shit did end up on my head. All in good fun.

Haredi guy going at it.

The look on the kid's face is classic.

Mother Clucker.

Here we go! Round one!

Round two!

Round three and a kiss for the clucker.

Happiness is a three-letter word

2007-08-12T16:55:00.000+03:00

Cross posted at Israelity.

The kismet of an American childhood is the Happy Meal. The meal includes the requisite hamburger, 15 french-fries, Hamburgler shortbread cookie, and a toy. This toy, whether it be a mini Beanie Baby or diecast General Lee, is like nirvana. For years my father refused to let me get rid of any of the toys. "They will pay your way through graduate school someday!" he would say as I moved them aside to make room for a new 'N Sync CD. After the toys have been opened and played with, I would doubt that they would even be able to pay for a semester at the local community college.

Every once in awhile, I will purchase an Israeli Happy Meal just for the toy. Unlike the boring chatchkes (or knick-knacks) you will get in an American Happy Meal. these are TOYS. For example, last week's toy was a mini e-Dog. The palm size dog lights up in for colors and plays a hip-hop tune from behind its ears. The Israeli Happy Meal also comes with apple-goo. I call it "goo" because it's like apple juice but it has a gelatinous, "Plan-9" look to it. I'm not sure if the United States McDonald's has chosen a different "Happy Meal Toy Provider" but they sure could take a clue from the Israeli Happy Meal. Now all Israel needs to do is replace that apple-goo with something else...an iPhone, perhaps.

The B-boy story you've all been waiting for!!!!!

2007-07-11T15:07:00.000+03:00

Cross posted at Israelity.

"Thursday night, date night in Tel Aviv. One of these Thursday night trips to Dizengoff introduced me to another awesome aspect of Israeli culture: the B-boy. For those who are (or were) as unknowledgeable as me about the subject, a B-boy, or B-girl, is a guy or gal who break-dances. So “breakdancers in Israel”, you say?

In the corner of the mall, close to Shape and across from the movie theater, seven B-Boys were dancing. Surrounded by an older and less limber crowd, the boys weren’t just dancing; they were flipping, spinning, “coffee-grinding” (that’s a breakdance move, if you didn’t know). Luckily, I had my trusty Cool Pix with me to record this awesome event.

I spoke with Elad Slim (he is pretty slim) about the group which started back in 1999 and has gone through numerous reincarnations over the years. Elad himself began dancing after he had finished his three years of army service. When asked about what reactions he and the other B-Boys get, Elad laughs: “You always have people walking around the mall who stop to watch. Some of them cheer. Some people ignore us, but many ask questions, or want to learn a certain move in 30 seconds. The reaction is very positive.” Elad offered me a lesson for being so interested in their group. Unfortunately, close to 17 years of tap, jazz, and ballet, would not have prepared me for it, so I kindly declined.

Although Elad has no professional aspirations in breakdancing, he believes that break-dancing in Israel is on the rise and will soon match to the scenes that exist in both the United States and Europe."

Express Mail to G-d

2007-06-04T17:47:00.000+03:00

Living in Jerusalem, I can say that going to the Kotel (or the Western Wall) is pretty convenient. When I am in the Old City, I always try and make a stop at the Wall. People go there to pray everyday. Many people can only visit once in their lifetime. If I can make it once a month, I'm perfectly content and grateful for the opportunity.

Every visit to the Wall is unique. Sometimes I see people that I saw the month before. Every so often I see a woman weeping. Perhaps someone is ill, a child, sibling, best friend. Or I see tourists from all over placing the obligatory note into the universal fax machine programmed to reach G-d and G-d only.

Even if I don't have something to pray for, I always make an effort. Standing in the sweltering heat with my head leaning on the smooth stones, I always manage to pray for someone or something. Why waste the moment?

The part that I always find difficult though is leaving the Wall. Women are lined up in a row at the exit with plastic cups in hand, all pleaing for tzedakah (which means "charity"). Occasionally, they will have cut red strings, sometimes with a charm on it. These strings are a "souvenir" of sorts. You gave them a couple shekels. They can buy themselves something to eat. They give you a string and hopefully by looking at that string, you will be reminded of the mitzvah (good deed) you have performed, and will do it again to someone somewhere else. A Jewish pay-it-forward, if you will.

I remember asking a friend once, "If you only have so much change in your wallet, who do you give your money to?" She couldn't answer me.

Today, I tried to split up my money among the 5 or so women lined up. The last one I gave to, gave me more than just a red string. She gave me a prayer. And that was more than I could have ever asked for.

Video and the Blogging Star

2007-05-29T19:24:00.000+03:00

So other than taking pictures, doing homework, and splitting my pants in mountainous areas, I do video! Under my links, right below my picture page link, is a new link to my YouTube page where you can see my most recent video. Here is a quick preview:

Cool, huh? Breakdancers in Tel Aviv. Or "B-Boys" I should say: in the BAYIT (house)! These guys are my first story for my soon-to-begin internship, which I will gladly discuss later on.

Until then, "Shayna-fo-shizzle" is signing out.

Burn, Baby, Burn

2007-05-27T21:35:00.000+03:00

Upon returning from Tel Aviv this weekend with a massive sunburn on my back, I go next door for some assistance.

Knock on Gaby and Dafi, the Argentinians door.
Gaby: Shayyyyyna! Como estas?
Shayna: Bien! Can I borrow your girlfriend for a second?
Gaby: Of course!
Dafi lovingly applies aloe to my scorched back.
Gaby: Well, put it this way. At least you don't have a Vitamin D deficiency.

Gotta love those Argentinians.

I look out my window and what do I see...

2007-05-10T11:59:00.000+03:00

I remember a few years ago, I saw a movie where as the character was passing into a "nether realm" she saw a dove bathed in white light, I guess symbolizing something. This morning, I had one of those moments. But instead of a dove bathed in white light, I had a pigeon.

I woke up and headed over to the window to check what the weather was going to be like. Unfortunately, I only have half a window screen and I always assumed that my window curtain could act as a screen for the half of the window not covered by a screen. I pulled back the curtain and I feel the flapping of wings and cawing in my face. I'm screaming bloody murder as I run backwards heading to unlock the door. I run downstairs to our maintenance man, sans bra and shoes.

Shayna: SALAAAAAAH!!!!! Zeh ohf b'cheder sheli!!!! (There's a chicken in my room!!!)
Salah: Zeh ohf?
Shayna: miming a bird I don't know!!!! Bird! Cheep cheep!
Salah: Oh...zeh tzipur (bird)!
Shayna: L'azor li! Maher! (Help me! Quick!).

Salah and I run upstairs to try and find the bird flying crazily around my room. He keeps trying to catch it, while I am hiding in a corner. Finally, he swings a broom at it and it flies out of the room. Needless to say, I'm crying (I don't do nature unless it is on Animal Planet or behind a cage). Salah leaves as quickly as he came in. The bird of course left a present. On my pillow.

Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.

2007-04-21T22:01:00.001+03:00

I have decided to throw a party. It will be the first big girl party I have thrown and I am so INCREDIBLY excited. My purpose in planning this party (which will take place in two weeks) is to see my classmates outside of class. Since I do not live on campus, I feel that I am not as close to my program peeps as I really should be. Hence, I throw a party.

Anyhoo, I decided to purchase some candles to create ambiance (my party is going to be outside in our common area). After walking around, shaking my head over how ridiculously priced pretty, smell-well candles are, I decided to buy some yahrzeit candles.

Yahrzeit candles are plain white candles normally in a glass jar or can primarily used to commemorate the anniversary of a mother, father, sister, brother, or spouse's death. Since they last for many hours, Jews in Florida also use them during hurricanes and tropical storm when you are left without power (they are also good for making smores; your marshmallows don''t taste like sterno).

I go to Mega and see that the candles are 2 shekels each (less than 50 cents), so I fill my basket with 12 of them, and two large yahrzeit pillar candles (similar to the red and yellow catholic saint ones in the States). I also pick up a bottle of shampoo and a Diet Coke. I go up to the checkout line and wait my turn. When the lady gets to me, she stares in horror at my 12 candles. She comes out from behind the register and grabs my hands and says, "Hakol Beseder? Ani mitztaeret:" "Is everything alright? I am so sorry." I stand there stunned not knowing what to do. Why is this lady holding on to me? Then I realize I she was about to ring up 14 memorial candles. "Ken! Hakol beseder! Lo Anashim Met!" "Yes! Everything is alright! No dead people."

The lady goes back behind her register with a sigh of relief and continues to ring up my candles, shampoo and soda. When I get back to my apartment, I ask a friend if there was something halakhically wrong with what I did. No, it was just fine.

And I decorated them, too!

Bethlehem...ain't your Momma's town.

2007-03-28T09:21:00.000+03:00

After a dry period of posting and no pictures, today is the day. About two weeks ago, I made a trip to Bethlehem with two school friends in order to get a little information for a paper I am writing ("Analyzing Mental Health Infrastructures for Adolescents in Jerusalem and Bethlehem"). Unlike the usual American citizen making a trip to Bethlehem for religious purposes, my trip was very different. My goal was to visit the Bethlehem Mental Institution run by the Palestinian Authority. After coffee and cake, like every good Arab mother would provide, Suzan, her sister Mimi, and I headed towards the checkpoint. Before that day, I hadn't realized how close "the other side" actually was.

A ten minute ride on the green and white bus led us to the most intimidating barrier ever. I hadn't seen "the fence" close up and I didn't realize how huge it actually was. We head towards the checkpoint where I flash my American passport to the Israeli soldier and walk right through the turnstyle. Suzan and Mimi are not being let in. The soldier proceeds to yell at them pointing at their Israeli identity cards. I go up to the soldier behind the glass and ask him politely what the problem is.

Soldier: The girls are not residents of Bethlehem and today we are not letting in non-residents.
Shayna: Well you just let me in.
Soldier: They are not allowed in. There is nothing I can do.
Shayna: Yes, there is. These two girls are my translators...
Soldier: Lady, they are not residents!
Shayna: You are NOT yelling at me. These girls are students at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and are working on a massive paper with me and if you do not let them in this minute I WILL CALL THE AMERICAN CONSULATE!!!
I am fuming and the color of a killer tomato.
Soldier: Yallah. Go.

So we went, and immediately I was struck by the barrenness and the dirtiness in front of me. We got in a cab and headed for the institution which was located in a not-so-nice place. Even the cab driver looked at us strangely. After a 15 minute ride through a place where Hell's Kitchen looks like Beverly Hills, we arrived outside of the gates of the institution. We got out of the cab and headed through the gates. The girls looked at me strangely.

Suzan: We thought it was a joke.
Shayna: What was a joke?
Suzan: When we were children and acted bad, our mother used to say that she would send us to Waise. We never thought it was real.
Shayna: What is Waise?
Suzan: It's the name of the institution.

Needless to say, we were all quite surprised with the openness of the nurses and staff (very verbal about the fact that they are paid very little and do not have enough medications and machinery) and the overall cleanliness of the place. The girls were very quiet, not used to visiting or seeing such a place. I felt they deserved a meal afterwards.

Anyways, my visit to the institution was both fruitful and surprising. Although it did not help entirely with the subject of adolescent mental health, I do feel that it clarified many of my misconceptions. For example, if you visit the Palesitnian Mental Health Department's website, it harps on how the entire problem is because of Israel. While at Waise, most of the blame cast was on the Palestinian Authority itself, being unable to handle a situation that ran just fine before. The trip was both fascinating and exhausting.

As for Bethlehem itself, Jesus would be really pissed off if he could see what they've done to his hometown.

A Belated Purim Sameach!

2007-03-10T16:20:00.000+03:00

Hello again! Back and settled in J-Town, I am posting up some pictures both here on blogger and on my flickr page from Purim. For those unfamiliar with the Jewish holiday of Purim, here is some information on this wonderful holiday.

Here is me as Zaftig Holly Golightly/Vashti/or a Black Widow with Timna, the purple angel/fairy.

Please visit my flickr site for more photos!

A real, honest to G-d blog will be posted within the next week. Sorry for the delay.

Back in J-Town

2007-02-21T16:19:00.001+03:00

Post to soon follow.

Random Post for the Day

2007-02-06T23:42:00.000+03:00

According to today's Jerusalem Post, Israel now has one attorney for every 202 residents. If only the same could be said for decent guys....whoops, did I say that outloud? :)

Mid-Year Report (plus or minus)

2007-01-24T16:49:00.000+03:00

Yeah, yeah. I know; no posts since the snow. Oy. Plenty of things, not limited to but including food poisoning on the way to Eilat three weeks ago and two sinus infections, classes are OVER for the semester! Woo hoo! One down, three to go!

It has been approximately 9 months since I arrived in Israel to begin my graduate program. And in true Shayna-fashion, I thought I would create a top-ten.

Shayna's Top Ten Kickin' Things That Shayna Has Leaned in the Past Nine Months
10. Shayna has learned at least five ways to tell a guy he is an asshole...in Hebrew.
9. Yoseftal Hospital in Eilat is good only for sunburns and food poisoning.
8. Israeli macaroni and cheese: bad (see number 9).
7. "Allo?" is the proper way to answer your cellphone...in Hebrew.
6. Home Center. A terrible, terrible place to find a date for Thursday night.
5. French toast and french fries are the only good things to have come out of France....
4. Hold onto the handle bar while standing on the bus. You don't look cool flat on your face.
3. Post Office workers are even more disgruntled in Israel than they are in the States. Always provide them with a courteous smile even if they ask you to pay $100 in customs for your own Chanukah present.
2. When a guy is bugging you at a bar and you ask what he wants from you (Ma Ata Rotzeh?), he will more that likely answer "Green Card."
1. Falafel: breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

All is well.

Sheleg B'Yerushalyim ('Sheleg' is snow)!!!

2006-12-28T18:28:00.000+03:00

From Miami to the Middle East, I have seen snow! Yesterday around 10:30 A.M., I was sitting in Hebrew class when I noticed what looked like a very hard rain. I walk over to the window, and lo and behold, it's snowing! As soon as it hit the ground it melted, but as the day went on, the snow didn't stop: it kept coming down. And it began to pile up. So here is a picture of me this morning, and the rest are posted on the flickr! site. Enjoy!

New photos!

2006-12-14T11:07:00.000+03:00

New photo update on flickr. Photos include Doctor Jazz in the Old City, street performers on Allenby Street in Tel Aviv, Merkaz HaSWINGshimim: the Party, and pictures from the Old City.

Enjoy!

Al HaPanim: Literally.

2006-12-03T20:28:00.000+03:00

Yesterday evening was quite an adventure. After munching on some hummus and challah around 10:30, I passed out. Al HaPanim, on my face. Literally. According to my fellow residents, including the one whose door I hit with my head, I complained of double-vision and about 3 seconds later, WHAM!, flat on the floor. Luckily, my forehead and nose took the brunt (is that the corrent word?) of the fall. It felt like a dream. Next thing I know, my favorite residents came to my rescue, propping my feet up, towel over bloody nose. I was freaked out. The wonderful people that are Magen David Adom (Israel's Red Cross) came to check me out and take me to the hospital. By the time they arrived. I had sat up and was cracking jokes:

Resident Ellie: Shayna, you need an MRI, a CAT scan...
Resident Timna: No she's fine; we'll see what the M.D.A. people say and go from there.
Ellie: Come on Shayna, you know you need an MRI.
Shayna: No, I need an enema, actually.
M.D.A. people begin to chuckle.
Timna: I'm glad I didn't have to give you CPR, I don't think my certification is up-to-date.
Shayna: No, thank you very much. My lips are chapped and I don't think either of us would enjoy it after eating garlic hummus.

I was taken by ambulance to the hospital (had a choice to lie on the stretcher which I fabulously took advantage of). Around 11:30, I was checked in; around 1:30 I was finally seen by a doctor.

Around 3 A.M. a very pregnant woman screaming as if in a wind tunnel was rolled in with a very frantic guy chasing after her with a giant duffel bag.

Resident Itzik: Boy am I glad to not be a woman.
Shayna: Even better, it'll be about 6 to 14 hours before she has the kid.
Doctors running by with buckets and linens
Twenty minutes later, the woman is being wheeled out of the emergency room on a stretcher with the newborn laying on her chest. She is the most collected and happy post-partum lady I have ever seen.
Shayna, Timna, and Itzik in unison: MAZEL TOV!

Finally, around 3:30 A.M., Itzik and Timna are in the waiting room, asleep on the chairs. I go up to the counter and finally just ask to have the blood shunt thing pulled out so I could leave and go to bed. "Hetzi Sha'ah" half hour they say. About 45 minutes later, the doctor from Marathon Man finally shows up and gives some ridiculousness to Itzik in Hebrew, sign my papers, and I am back in my apartment around 4:30. Slept today until 3 P.M. Wonderful time had by all. No need for a nose-job, I am good to go.

Which kind are they? "Woo-Woo" or "Push Start"

2006-11-20T14:11:00.000+03:00

Interesting experience last night at the Merkaz. As part of communiuty outreach, the program director invited 10 Indian Jews to discuss the subject of aliyah and the concept of a merkaz klita (or an absorption center). About 4 or 5 of my housemates who have made aliyah were asked to come to the event and speak about their experiences. I tagged along because I wanted to meet Indian Jews.

The concept just blew my mind. How in the heck did we get to India, of all places? Well, I guess you can say the same for Ethiopian Jews. I guess as an American Jew, I think of most Jews being nebbish (a la Woody Allen), studious, unathletic, Ashkenazic mostly. But Indian Jews look, well, Indian! The Jews of India, the largest group located in Mumbai, came to India as early as 700 BCE for trade, but according to their tradition, the move to India took place in 70 CE with the destruction of the Second Temple and settled in the city of Cochin. Jews from North Africa, the Middle East, as well as Jews from Portugal, Holland, and Spain, settled in India as well, creating a unique Jewish community unlike most we are all familiar with. The 10,000 Jews of India have their own language, music, and traditions.

Over the past few years with the arrival of the Jewish Agency in India, programs such as Birthright have brought young Indian Jews to Israel encouraging connection with the rest of the Diaspora. The group of Indians I met last night came to Israel on Birthright and through the Jewish Agency, are staying in Israel for about 5 months. Like many other Indian Jews, they are looking into the prospect of aliyah. All our visitors, who were between the ages of 19 and 30, had very different backgrounds: one was a doctor, one an interior designer, one had been in the Indian Army for 3 years and was ready and willing to join the Israeli Army. But most surprising to the program director whose attempts to organize a discussion fell apart, was the creation of a wonderful friendship.

As we all sat around talking about 50 Cent, our favorite movies, stores at the Mall, or most importantly, how bland Israeli food really is (according to one of the guys, you can make falafel even better if you add curry), I looked around at the variety of people in the room. Some people had dark hair, some light. Brown eyes, blue eyes, light skin, dark skin, skin somewhere-in-between. What does a Jew look like? What language does a Jew speak and where does a Jew come from? There are a variety of answers to these questions but one thing remains the same. We were Jews and we were in Israel.

Keep your eyes above my collarbone, thank you very much!

2006-11-07T09:58:00.000+03:00

So we're are sitting waiting for Israel: Politics and Society to start and we are dicussing presentations we are going to be giving over the next few weeks.

Shayna: Mine is about the FSR and how the Russian immigration boom has effected the government of the State of Israel.
Student: Yeah, you don't know how difficult it's going to be for me today to give two presentations on two articles, both of which contain the word "cleavage" about 100 times.
Shayna: Well that should be an exciting presentation for the male population.
Student: You have no idea.

All is well.

Abba Sheli Kibal M'Thailand....

2006-11-06T10:22:00.001+03:00

Or "My father has returned from Thailand."

Here are some pictures of him stolen from Big Bob's Bangkok in October blog.

Dad and Bob's friend, Hui, eating something Thai.

My uncle, Paul, being eaten by an elephant.

My father looking very hot, along with Bob (the birthday boy), some other dude on the trip, and my Uncle Paul.

Big thanks to Big Bob for looking out for my Dad.

Merkaz HaSWINGshimim is....

2006-11-04T21:10:00.000+03:00

officially a SUCCESS!

Class number one went wonderfully and pictures have been posted to prove it!

All is well.

Shayna

Miscommunication

2006-10-24T09:25:00.000+03:00

Going through security on campus this morning:

Guard: Cartis? (ID card)
Shayna: show's ID card
Guard: Neshek?
Shayna: Ma!? You want to kiss me?!
Guard: Lo! Neshek! Bang Bang?! (No! Weapon! Bang Bang?!)
Shayna: Whoops, my bad.

***FYI: The Hebrew word for kiss me is naskhi, which said fast sounds like neshek.

And Shayna jumps for joy....!

2006-10-22T11:57:00.000+03:00

I PASSED ALEPH WITH AN 80!!!

Woo Hoo!

An Afternoon in the Old City

2006-10-10T21:02:00.000+03:00

After my tutoring session this morning, I headed to the Old City to visit a friend of mine from Ulpan. Her family, Muslims, have lived in the Old City for three generations in the same building. Basically, they live behind the Kotel. My friend met me by the Kotel and we walked throughout the Old City. It was incredibly busy because of Ramadan and Sukkot. The most interesting part to me was spending time with her family. She has one brother and four sisters, one of the sisters living upstairs with her family (including a very cute baby). I was able to help with some of the cooking. I've never met someone who lives in the Old City. To me the Old City seems more like a place of pilgrimige. It's hard to imagine that the place actually has inhabitants. Her family was incredibly welcoming and made me feel more than comfortable in their home.

A rose is still a rose.

2006-10-05T21:06:00.000+03:00

I debated as to whether or not to post this story. I don't like being too personal or intimate with basically the entire world, but I figured it was worth it.

Pretty much every evening I go for a stroll along Emeq Refaim. I always pass by a young man with Down's Syndrome. I don't know how his days are spent but in the evening he goes from store to store or cafe to cafe and sits with the guards at the door. The store or cafe owner will bring him a drink while he sits and talks with the guard. Whenever I walk the young man always makes a point to smile this impish yet meaningful grin at me, say "Shalom" and wave. I always smile back and reply "Shalom" and good wishes to him as I walk by on my way.

Last night, I was quite frazzled; not only am I having a difficult time with Ulpan, I am facing the possibility of failure, a word not often found in my academic vocabulary. I headed up to Burger's Bar where I sat and drank a bottle of Diet Coke while working on a mound of homework. The young man walked by the open window, waved, and said "Shalom." I responded, but not in my usual warmth. I continued working and a few minutes later I felt a tap on my shoulder. The young man came into the restaurant and hands me a rose. A peach colored, somewhat withered rose, he picked off a bush along the street. He points at the flower and then points at his nose signalling for me to smell it. I do. And it was one of the most beautiful smelling roses I have ever sniffed. He lays it down on the table, gives my back a pat, and walks out of the restaurant leaving me to my object clauses and indirect speech.

For a moment, it gave me a bit of clarity. A "break" of sorts from the reality that is learning a completely foreign language. For all the time I've been studying Hebrew in Israel, I've probably been studying it for one reason: to retain my place in my graduate program. I keep reminding myself that I should be learning it for a completely different reason: because I want to. It's incredibly hard.

But just like that withered peach rose, I need to find the beauty in the mundance, whether it be an object clause or indirect speech. Modern Hebrew in the entire scheme of things is a relatively new language. The beauty of it is how it has evolved. How each letter has a different purpose and reason for its placement and use. My purpose in passing Ulpan is now for me. I cannot accept the "thorns" that are object clauses or indirect speech. I must blossom and expand my knowledge.

Beef jerky...not in France!

2006-10-04T18:11:00.000+03:00

During our break in class today, a fellow student (she's from Kentucky; why she's in Israel is beyond me) and I were talking about things we miss from the States. Topics ranged from hair products (such as Redken), moisturizers, makeup, and of course, food. You can't find chunky Jif peanut butter, paper here has only two holes, of course on the right side, you can't find Bic mechanical pencils, nor can you find Jello (fake Jello, not the real stuff). This girl mentions that her mother sends her packages of food each month, the most recent containing mini bags of peanut M & M's and 5 bags of beef jerky. A French girl sitting with us proceeds to ask what beef jerky is. Kentucky pulls out a bag (voila!) and hands a piece to the French girl.

Kentucky: You like cow right?
France: Like moo? Basar (meat in Hebrew)? Yes.
Kentucky hands French girl a piece.
French girl nibbles on it.
France: You know what zis reminds me of? What I give to my dog in ze evening.
Shayna: That's the point.

All is well.

Starring Lily Munster as Zipporah....

2006-09-28T15:27:00.000+03:00

Talking about holiday traditions on the way to a presentation about Rosh Hashanah.

Shayna: I have to admit, I must watch "The Ten Commandments" with Charleton Heston every year or it just isn't Passover.
Classmate: Oh, yeah! And as soon as that's over I watch "Ben-Hur."
Shayna: Maybe rather than watching "The Ten Commandments" I should read the book instead.
Classmate: "The Ten Commandments" is based on a book?!
Shayna: Yeah...it's called the Torah.

Long time, no post.

2006-09-25T15:01:00.000+03:00

After a bit of a lapse between posts, well, here's a new one. A few things (other than the bitch that is Ulpan) that have happened in the past week or so:

1) Gad...I hope he chokes on a croissant (see photos which will be posted on my Flickr page tomorrow).
2) Rosh Hashanah: Spent time with the lovely Shnaiders. Very good eats. Even better honey cake.
3) On the bus on the way back to Jerusalem yesterday evening, a soldier fell asleep on my shoulder and proceeded to drool. Not only was he very embarassed, he apologized profusely.
4) I've got a bruise about the size of an orange on the back of my knee (picture posted tomorrow). How did I get it? No idea.

And that's about all.

Shayna

When in Rome...

2006-09-14T21:02:00.000+03:00

Speaking to a classmate about living in Jerusalem.

Shayna: So how is it living in East Jerusalem?
Classmate: Not so bad. Can't say much for the water pressure. I live in an area that an archaeological group has been excavating lately.
Shayna: Who do they think lived there?
Classmate: The Romans.
Shayna: I guess the Romans didn't have hot water either.

Boy, is he "Metro."

2006-09-14T20:50:00.000+03:00

I apologize for the delay in posting. Ulpan, as we all know very well must come first. Anyway, onto the real fun.

Guys in Israel are what we girls in the States would call "metro-sexual." By calling a guy metro-sexual, one is not calling him gay, or bisexual. The definition of metro-sexual is basically a guy who is aware of the importance of cleanliness and propriety in his appearance. He may use "product" (hair gel, mousse, pomade, etc.). Buy clothing from Polo, Tommy, tight tshirts and jeans: he dresses to impress not only others, but himself.

Regular, secular guys in Israel fit this description to a T. It is not unusual to find yourself in the moisturizer section with a guy scrutinizing the description on a box of L'Oreal Revitalift. So here is the funny part of this post.

Last week after allowing my eyebrows to grow together, I headed to the salon at the mall to get waxed. I walk in and normally the lady is immediately ready for me. It must have been a busy day because she told me it would be about 45 minutes (you can get in A LOT of waxing in 45 minutes). I go upstairs to the "spa" area of the salon and sit down next to two guys, one reading a magazine, the other talking loudly on his cell phone. I'm thinking that these poor dudes (or not so poor dudes) are waiting for their girlfriends or wives while they get bikinis, chins, or not so nice areas waxed. The waxing lady opens up the door and calls our "Nir." Guy #1 on cell phone gets up and walks into the room. She leaves the door open. The dude is getting his eyebrows waxed. He walks out with two very plucked (and very red)eyebrows. I say to myself "the other guy is waiting for his wife who is getting her nails done." The lady calls out "Mickey" and Guy #2 walks inside, eyebrows get waxed as well. Needless to say, his eyebrows looked very nice afterwards.

Pics posted

2006-09-09T11:48:00.000+03:00

of the new and improved Casa de Shayna.

All is well.

Hebrew Tongue Discombobulators

2006-09-07T17:48:00.000+03:00

Try it if you dare!

Hebrew Transliteration:
Ganan Gedal Dagan Bagan.
Dagan Gadol Gedal Bagan.

Meaning:
The gardener grows oats in the garden.
Oats grow big in the garden.

All is well.

Funny Happenings of the Day

2006-09-05T16:59:00.000+03:00

Happening #1: Today there were five people in class. Needless to say, the teachers are not thrilled by this especially when most of those who don't show up, are the kids from France.

Teacher noticing there are only five people in the room.

Moreh: Ayfoh culam (Where is everybody)?
French kid walks in and sits down.
Shayna: I see we've reached our French classmate allowance for the day.

Happening #2: In class we learned about the word cadei, which means the better, or rather than. Good example was the teacher reciting Cova Adumah (Little Red Riding Hood) in Hebrew, ie. "the better (cadei) to see you with, my dear." To utilize this, we were to ask the person next to complete a sentence.

Shayna: Ani yoshev be-Ulpan (I am sitting in Ulpan)...
Notices French kid has passed out on his desk (not the same one as a week or so ago.
Morah walks over.
Morah: Mishpat (sentence)?
Shayna: Dan yoshev be-Ulpan, cadei lishon be-kitah (Dan is sitting in Ulpan, but would rather be sleeping in class).

All is well.

Pics and Stuff

2006-09-02T12:10:00.000+03:00

New pictures have been posted on my Flick page.

There's an awesome website known as Post Secret, where people mail in anonymous postcards with their deepest and darkest (sometimes not so dark) secrets and the owner of the site posts them up. This was posted today (I did NOT write this postcard; I just thought it was a pretty interesting one).

Mixed Emotions

2006-08-31T19:44:00.000+03:00

Today, about four classmates and I took a trip to the market for some tea, coffee, and hooka (I did not take part in the last part, thank you very much). While at the market, one of the brothers I spoke about in my last post dropped by to say hello. Off to the side, two little girls were walking around, and I noticed two Israeli soldiers walking up to them. My classmates and I went back to talking when all of the sudden we hear yelling and see one of the soldiers grabbing at a 14/15 year old boy pulling him down the street by his collar, the other soldier pushing people aside, the two little girls running after them. The cafe-brother ran after the soldiers to find out what was happening. Apparently, one of the soldiers pushed one of the little girls off to the side, reasons unknown. Her brother, the 14/15 year old, began to argue with the soldier about touching his sister. The soldier obviously didn't like what he had to say and began dragging him down the street.

Needless to say, we were all very nervous this being a very quiet and unobtrusive part of the Christian Quarter and left shortly after. We later found out that a special service for soldiers was going on in the Old City this evening and that everyone was on edge (edgier than usual). Soldiers normally stay out of the market, leaving the patrol to police officers stationed in the Old City.

What really got to me was how nasty the situation actually is. Obviously, people have their loyalties, stories get skewed, yada yada. After the boy was being dragged down the street, you could cut the tension with a knife. One of my favorite SAT/GRE words was microcosm: living in one's own little bubble-like world. My view of the conflict up until today obviously leant to one side. Today, I think my bubble may have finally burst, and I don't know what to think.

the Godfather

2006-08-28T17:04:00.000+03:00

Inside of the Jewish Quarter in the Old City, there is a cafe where I get the most amazing wireless. I pop in there sometimes on the way back from class and the Kotel. The manager of the cafe is a guy from North Carolina (by way of Jordan) and his four brothers. Little did I know, his father, who owns this cafe, is this big time antique dealer, which I should have figured out by the beautiful embroidered dresses/costumes and wares hanging up along the walls of the cafe. His father was also the author of a book on Middle Eastern antiquities I once checked out for research while doing my undergrad. While I'm sitting there, drinking my turkish coffee, hub-bub ensues. All the brothers run into the cafe and begin to clean up around me and the five or six customers inside. I ask if I should leave and they say it is no problem, their father has come for a visit.

An older man in a three piece pin strip suit too big on him (Cab Calloway-style) walks in and sits at the table across from me. The brothers are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, at their father's beck and call. He introduces himself as the father of the four brothers and asks how I like his cafe. I say that I like it very much (coffee and free wireless; what could be wrong with that). He asks about me: where I am from, why I am in Israel. I tell him that I once used his book for a paper in my undergrad which he even offered to autograph (unfortunately, it's lost somewhere in the Dewey Decimal System at the UCF library).

Noticing I am doing homework for Ulpan he invites me to improve my Hebrew by staying at the Crown Resort at the Dead Sea, free for one day. He says that he owns the three stores inside of the lobby and will comp a room, food, and spa. I say thank you graciously. He gives me his card and says to call later in the week. I don't think I'll take advantage of the offer considering I'm interested in passing Ulpan, but the hospitality, whoa! Pretty darn cool :)

It's all in a name.

2006-08-26T12:38:00.000+03:00

At Aroma Cafe (free wi-fi!), when your order is ready, they call your name. Only in Israel.

Chana!
Yacov!
Leah!
Yitzchak!
Eli!
Yonatan!
.....what's this?
Shayna!

The breast is...well, you know....best.

2006-08-26T12:12:00.000+03:00

Israelis I guess by nature are very brazen, outgoing people. They are not shy about doing certain things, that too Americans might be kind of odd. One of the things (which may immediately turn off my male readers) is breast-feeding. In the States there is always a battle going on about where and when the proper place and time to breast-feed is. Some say women should go to a bathroom or a corner to feed, others say women should be able to do it wherever they want. Here in Israel, just walking down the street you see women walking and breast-feeding at the same time. Just as popular as Crocs and video games are, you can walk into any store and find this sling-like papoose that every lady has, holding the kid up, walking, and drinking an ice latte at the same time. As I write, a lady is eating a salad and breast feeding at the same time. Honestly, it's difficult for me as is to walk and chew gum at the same time. I guess something can be said for hand/eye coordination.

Pics for the pickin'

2006-08-25T14:04:00.000+03:00

About 30 new pictures are up on my Flickr page.

Shabbat Shalom.

Sordid Sipurei (Stories)

2006-08-20T16:26:00.000+03:00

As an opening activity to today's class, Moreh (male teacher) had us do a pass-around story. Each of us would have a sheet of paper with a topic on top, and as it was being passed around, we were to add a sentence to the story. Here it is:

Oren betzayva hoshev al Rut (Oren thinks of Ruth).
V'Rut rotzah leerot et Oren (And Ruth likes to look at Oren).
Kee hee ohevet et Oren (Because she likes Oren).
Aval Oren lo rotzeh leerot et Rut (But Oren does not like to look at Ruth).
Kee hoo ohev et Sara (Because he likes Sara).
Aval Rut yafah meod (But Ruth is very pretty). Rut Ohevet et Oren v'hem rotzim lehitchatnim (Ruth likes Oren and wants them to get married).

The topic we were to write about: Oren lives in Tel Aviv and Ruth lives in Jerusalem.
The second story:

Oren roeh harbeh penguinim (Oren sees lots of penguins). Hoo shoteh harbeh vodka (He drinks a lot of vodka). Hee shotah meetz tapuzim (She drinks orange juice).

The topic we were to write about: Oren and Ruth travel to the desert.

Obviously, Oren had vodka laced with ecstasy and Ruth likes...well...orange juice.

Ze French!

2006-08-17T14:55:00.000+03:00

One more anecdote for the day.

In class we are discussing a few new verbs: those beginning with the "M" sound at the beginning.

Moreh (male teacher): Meetrahetz, 'to shower.' Add another "M" at the beginning of a verb such as cotev, which means 'to write.'
French kid: So, anachnu m'meetrachetz (we shower together)wrong verb, dipshit (probably meant to say meetpalel which means 'to pray,' although I'm really not so sure)
Moreh: Lo, anachnu m'meetrachetz (No, we do not shower together). Baruch hashem says under breath.

Still hacol beseder.

Rikudei....what?

2006-08-17T14:51:00.000+03:00

Yesterday outside of the Boyar building (where the Rothberg International School is at), a demonstration of Rikudei Am (Israeli folk disco...erm...dance) was given for students on class break.

Shayna is standing on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.
Unknown girl standing next to Shayna: Boy, I really should have picked a country with better folk dancing.
Shayna: Groovy.

Hacol Beseder. All is well.

I'm sure there's a word for it in French, as well.

2006-08-14T20:09:00.000+03:00

Scene: Our ulpan teacher (morah) has separated us into groups of two to quiz each other on direction words in Hebrew: smola (left), yamina (right), yashar (straight), etc. On a map of Jerusalem we are to point to two different places and our partner is to "direct" us there. I'm with a French kid.

Shayna: So you want to go first?
French kid: mumbles something incoherently
Shayna: Ma zeh (What is it?)?
French kid: in a long, French drawl I'm tired....
Shayna: Well, I'm le tired, too. You can take a le nap later.
French kid chuckles at my sorry attempt at humor.

Teacher comes up to us
Morah: Ledaber, bevakashah (speak, please).
French kid: once again, mumbles incoherently
Shayna: Morah, ma zot milah "lazy" (Teacher, what is the word for "lazy"?)
Morah: Azlan.
Shayna: I rest my case.
French kid is passed out on his desk

End scene.

All else is well :)

I'll take it as a compliment.

2006-08-13T17:05:00.000+03:00

On the way back from class today, I decided to take a cab from King George V St. (the city center) to the Merkaz. My luck, I get a cab driver who has no idea where the German Colony is. After taking back routes until we get to the main drag, I asked him (nicely) how is it that he could live in Jerusalem and not know where something so popular is. Well, he is not from Jerusalem. He and his family came to Jerusalem after his hometown, Haifa, began getting hit by katyushas. A philanthropic American decided to rent out a hotel and pay for families from the north to stay there for free; his family being one of those. I asked how long he had been living in the hotel: one month. Finally finding my way to the Merkaz, he asked for 25 shekels. I gave him 50: for the indirect route home and for his family. He said thank you over and over again calling me "as American as apple pie." And that sounds good to me.

The "What were they thinking?" Event of the Day

2006-08-10T16:19:00.000+03:00

I'm sitting on the 4-Aleph bus on my way to Ben-Yehuda Street from Mt.Scopus. The bus drives through a predominately Orthodox neighborhood. Because the traffic is so heavy this time of day, the bus driver is kind of parked in the middle of the street waiting for the traffic to clear. I look over to my left out the window, and there standing at the corner is an Ultra-Orthodox man, hat, payis, tallit, the works, digging for nose-gold. I don't mean a casual scratch, but this dude was about to reach China. He sees me looking at him and then quickly crosses the street.

Ah yes, the finer things in life.

Ulpan Day 2 complete. Can now identify the infinitive for about 25 Hebrew verbs (unfortunately, "picking" was not one of the them).

Banging the "rosh" on the "shulchan"

2006-08-09T19:23:00.001+03:00

What. A. Day.

Today was the first day of Ulpan. I pretty much slept the fitful sleep of a child anxious for her first day of school. As usual, the first day of school consists mostly of paperwork, lectures on behavior, etc. The day began at 7:30 A.M. with a ride on the bus up to Mt.Scopus. Upon arriving at Mt.Scopus I had 3 hours to spare. I found out what level Hebrew I was in (Beginner Aleph) to which I replied "Nu-uh." I spoke to the people in the office who bumped me up to Advanced Aleph. Somehow I'm supposed to get to Gimel by October. Hmmmmm....this should be interesting.

Anyway, at 11 a lecture on security was given for about two hours (nothing more depressing than that) and then headed to our classes. In my class there are 6 French kids (foie gras and crudetat, anyone?), a Brit, a Belgian, three Israelis (one a recent oleh chadash from Russia, the other two, Muslims), and three Yankee Doodles (two from Ohio, and moi). The first part of the day was spent with a female teacher and that went pretty fast. The second, a guy, oy vey. Nice dude but spoke TOO fast. Should be interesting.

Shiur Bayit. Homework time. More tomorrow.

Tu B'Av: The Jewish Valentine's Day (of sorts)

2006-08-07T14:31:00.000+03:00

This evening begins the holiday of Tu B'Av; not Tu B'Shevat but Tu B'Av. Tu B'Av is celebrated in Israel as a "give the girlfriend a heart shaped box of candy, and pray she doesn't say 'Where are the diamonds?'" kind of day. But in reality, Tu B'Av was the day in which the virgins in the village would borrow white gowns, run into a field and dance. Cavemen single guys would run into the field, snatch a virgin, and voila, no longer single. Anyways, the point is the malls are packed with guys getting last minute chotchkes.

New photos are posted on the Flickr page.

Photo Frenzy

2006-08-06T14:40:00.001+03:00

I've posted a bunch of new pictures from this past weekend. I've also taken numerous pictures today of the local flora and fauna (mostly pomegranates and roses) and those will be posted tomorrow.

Today's events included registering for Ulpan (yay! as of Wednesday I'll finally have something constructive to do!) and a trip to the Kotel for some spritual guidance from the big man (the other one, Dad).

Love to all.

Photo Frenzy

2006-08-06T14:40:00.000+03:00

No bloggy-goodness for today.

2006-08-04T14:43:00.000+03:00

Check back tomorrow for some promised pictures.

All is swell in the Tel...Aviv.

Shayna

Depeche Mode cancels concert in Israel....

2006-08-02T11:56:00.000+03:00

the pain...the humanity! proceeds to take a bite of her croissant

Alas, the Prince is Not Charming

2006-08-01T17:39:00.000+03:00

Upon revelation of the pursuant bus driver being a Christian Arab:

Friend: Well, I'm sure there are 12 more bus drivers willing to pose for your calendar. And maybe that driver can give you a discount?

Pics are posted.

2006-07-31T12:58:00.000+03:00

Nothing special happening today, except getting lost in Talpiot, which isn't much to talk about.

As the New Kids on the Block once said: Hangin' Tough.

All is well.

What happens in Tel Aviv, stays in Tel Aviv....

2006-07-29T18:00:00.000+03:00

A trip to Tel Aviv, chips (Israeli-style), a quick meltdown (Shayna-style), two whiskeys and three shots (universal-style), two hours of dancing (in a drunken stupor-style), and I am back in Jerusalem (miraculously minus the hangover-style).

22 feels the same as 21, only creakier.

Unfortunately, I only took two pictures last night (I'll post them tomorrow). Neither very good.

All is well (after 12 hours sleep).

Esrim v'Shtayim is the number of the day.

2006-07-28T19:44:00.000+03:00

22.

Thank you Mom and Dad :)

Enjoying the A/C this weekend in Tel Aviv. No beach-bumming for me!

Love to all my family and friends for the well wishes.

Shalom,
Shayna

P.S. Abeer, you are correct!

Rock Solid

2006-07-27T19:54:00.000+03:00

Today, I walked right into a wall. Not just a regular wall, but a wall of Jerusalem stone. The correct reply to this would be: ow. For those unfamiliar with Jersualem stone, it's off-white, very rough when not grinded smooth like in most synagogues, and the entire city of Jerusalem (under a special ordinance) is pretty much made out it. Pretty easy to find and not miss. Except today. On my afternoon walk to the cafe, I was listening to the wind, smelling the myrtle and lavender along the street, and not paying any attention to what was in front of me. BAM! Walked right into a wall. Luckily, I was able to make a recovery before the entire city of Jerusalem saw me on my ass (only 1/4 today). But not without completely skinning my right elbow. So not only do I have no skin on my elbow (lovely....), my legs, arms, and back are all peeling from my weekend in Tel Aviv. I look like a four year old who fell off her bike. Can't wait till the birthday pictures come out!!!

Lo chadashot, es tov chadashot.

2006-07-26T13:59:00.000+03:00

No news, is good news (no clue if the Hebrew in the title was phrased correctly, but I'm sure I'll figure out eventually).

All is well in the Land of Lincoln.

Oh wait, that's Illinois.

I mean, all is well in the Land of Milk and Honey.

Love, Shayna

Enter Shayna, pursued by Bus Driver

2006-07-25T12:24:00.001+03:00

After a rousing night of what the Israelis lovingly call “shilshul,” I was finally about to pull myself out of bed and recall the previous nights events (before the shilshul). Earlier in the evening on my way back from Malcha on what I will forever call “The Love Bus,” I sat behind the driver (too many strange things have happened to me on the number 18 bus; I figured it deserved a name). If the bus is empty, I like to sit behind the driver because for some reason, I just do. Anyway, I sit down and the bus driver, a younger guy probably in his late 20’s starts talking to me in broken English (I’m sensing a pattern). “Where am I from? Why am I here? Am I single?”

WHAT?! Hold ON!
Am I single?

I ask if he’s flirting with me, to which he replies, “Ken (the Hebrew word for yes). I was astounded by the guy’s honesty. Just for that we exchanged numbers. And to my very surprise, he actually called me last night. Unfortunately, most of my evening was spend in the bathroom so I had to opt out of a “date” he offered. He probably thought I was lying to him and making an excuse.

Why do I keep being asked out by bus and taxi drivers? Could a nuclear physicist be sent my way….possibly?

Oh, and new pictures have been posted on Flickr.

Sons of Light and Sons of Darkness

2006-07-24T15:27:00.000+03:00

Today in my travels, I made the decision to visit the Israel Museum. The Israel Museum is Israel's Smithsonian (of sorts). It is home to countless pieces of art and treasures beyond most people's wildest dreams. One of the most fascinating parts of the Israel Museum is the Shrine of the Book. The Shrine of the Book (which most people know as the white building shaped like a...nipple) is home to the Dead Sea Scrolls, or what is left of the Dead Sea Scrolls. After a semester of learning about the Dead Sea Scrolls at UCF, I was excited to go there and actually understand what I was looking at. The first time I went to the Israel Museum was five years ago and I didn't really understand what the Dead Sea Scrolls were, or what their significance was. Now I do.

The Dead Sea Scrolls, found between 1947 and 1956, are the oldest known, and existing, biblical documents found to date. The collection of scrolls does not only include the Septuagint (the original five books), but includes a large amount of apocryphal (books that did not make it into what we Jews call the Tanakh: Torah, Prophets, and Writings) writings that describe the people that may or may not have hid these scrolls away. One of the most famous scrolls, The War Scroll, is a telling of what the end of days is to be like. It describes a war between the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness, with the Sons of Light ultimately prevailing. Many theories have been postulated as to whom the Sons of Light and Darkness actually were. The Shrine of the Book is actually constructed to represent the War between these two sides: the actual Shrine being the Light, and a large black wall representing the Darkness, with the Light ultimately prevailing.

Upon my visiting the Shrine of the Book, I thought about the current situation that Israel is in (who can miss it?). Israel against Hezbollah, a group that has been taken over most everyone's thoughts for the past two weeks, and 20 years. Israelis from the north have flocked south like geese in Winter, hoping to avoid the Katyushas landing in their backyard.

Israel has made its fair share of mistakes over the past 60 years; I won't argue with that. But with every conflict, with every war, innocent people are caught in the middle (such as those living in the north of Israel, and the displaced Lebanese not supportive of Hezbollah's actions). What did the Sons of Light feel about the....Sons of Grey? What about those who didn't want to get involved? Those who had no choice?

Or maybe we all are Sons of Grey. Just trying to find a happy medium.

Pictures from the Israel Museum will be posted tomorrow.

Pictures Posted

2006-07-23T16:17:00.000+03:00

Tel Aviv pics are posted. Check 'em out.

And will whoever the "Klingon" is, please identify yourself. :)

Shayna

Starting slow on Saturday morning....

2006-07-22T10:34:00.000+03:00

Pictures from last night (I went on a trek down the beach in Tel Aviv) will be posted sometime tomorrow. Played my first game of pool with a French guy. I won hums the National Anthem under her breath.

And that's all for now.

Funny thing happened on the way to Ben-Yehuda

2006-07-21T17:48:00.000+03:00

Setting: In a women's clothing store looking at blouses.

Shayna: holds up a blouse with tears in it, obviously on purpose, says to self outloud Hah...if I wear this, I'll look like I was attacked by a cougar.
Salewoman standing behind Shayna: But a very sexy cougar!

End scene.

Just a quickie...

2006-07-21T16:00:00.000+03:00

Hello from the "Bubble" aka, Tel Aviv! Just here for the weekend to soak up some sun and R&R (although I'm not exactly sure what the rest and relaxation is from...who cares!). All is well in this beautiful city. The sun is shining, the air is crisp, the sea is blue, and my shoulders are red (sorry, Mom. I kept reapplying!!!). Other than that, just hanging.

Word of the day: Ma-lach, meaning angel. I gave an older woomen the lounge chair next to mine at the beach today and spent about two hours talking with her. In appreciation of my kindness, she not only invited me to Shabbat in two weeks, but also provided me with my word of the day (cue the "Awwwww....'s).

And that's it. Love to all.

Soaps on Ropes

2006-07-19T18:10:00.000+03:00

Yesterday in Kfar Saba, resting after being out in the sun, Leeat and I watched back to back (to back...) episodes of the new (semi-new) telenovela called "Ha'Alufa," or "The Champion." Leeat's mother suggested that I watch the telenovela because it would help me with my Hebrew skills. After sitting through five episodes of this overacted soap, I realized how much it did help. The show revolves around a character named Sar Fadeeta. Sar is an Israeli David Beckham, of sorts. Flashy, but with a good foot and amazing skills on the field. Sar's team has just been bought by the husband of his exgirlfriend, now rich after being rescued from her humble job as a waitress. It seems that Sar was actually not a jerk in his early years.

Anyway, the show delves into the lives of Sar (who later on becomes an addict and OD's), and his teammates and their lives. Very dramatic. Very easy to follow along. So not only was I introduced to the Israeli telenovela (who knew?!), I have been introduced to the Israeli heartthrob Yehuda Levi (Sar). It had to happen at some point! lashes flutter dreamingly

Taxi Cab Confessions

2006-07-18T21:05:00.000+03:00

Before I begin today's post, let me just comment on the comment "Hakim" left on my blog. He took Jim Morrison's name in vain. Therefore, he is a prick. Enough said.

Onto better things. I came back from visiting a dear friend today in Kfar Saba. Upon returning to Jerusalem, I took a taxi cab from the bus station. My bag was way too heavy to carry onto a bus. Anyways, I get in the cab. Here is the dialogue.

Taxi Driver: So I see you are not married.
Shayna: Nope, not married.
Taxi Driver: Well, can I give you some....ehhh....advice?
Shayna: Sure, what the heck says groggily, exhausted after shlepping around all day.
Taxi Driver: The army uniform these boys wear; they just a shell. Just a facade. You want an army boy, you find one with lots of bars on his arm.....and eh....a brightly colored beret. Because they are smart.
Shayna: You don't say?
Taxi Driver: Yes, I saw you as you were coming out of the bus station looking at some soldier. He's cute, no?
I plead the fifth.
Shayna: Yeah, sure. But most of them are assholes. So no worries.
Taxi Driver: Why you come to Israel?
Shayna: To study.
Taxi Driver: But admit that as a nice Jewish girl your intentions included finding an Israeli guy right?
Shayna: Turning red as a baboon's butt Of all te reasons for coming to Israel, finding an Israeli guy is probably the antepenultimate (this is a GRE word meaning the fifth to the absolute last).
Taxi Driver: turns his head around and looks at me quizzically Well I don't know this ante-thing, but you be smart. This uniform and gun. It's like a free corvette. It automatically makes them feel that their...ehh....how you say.... manhood is bigger.
Shayna: proceeds to have a spittake with a large amount of water Oh yeah.....sounds familiar.
Taxi Driver: I see good things in your future because you are a smart girl. And I have daughters and sons who I tell the same thing.
Finally arriving at my apartment, I pull my stuff out of the car and hand the guy 50 shekels.
Shayna: Thank you. Your advice was appreciated. Good night.
Taxi Driver: Laila tov, chamudah (sweetheart)!

Hebrew word of the day: K'niot (shopping).

Staying smart.

Applicable Hebrew Word of the Day

2006-07-16T20:07:00.000+03:00

Balagan (bah-la-gahn): Noun (I think...), a mess, absolute chaos, a tried and true clusterf**k.

Applicable Word of the Day used in a sentence:
Israel is always in a state of balagan. Nu?

All is well.

Journalistic crushes

2006-07-15T14:35:00.000+03:00

Awhile back I was discussing with a coworker of mine, weird crushes. Crushes on people we have no idea why we'd have crushes on. She thought Alexander Hamilton (the guy on the $10 bill) was hot. I thought that Anderson Cooper rocked my world. One of my favorite shows on TV is Anderson Cooper 360 on CNN. Not only did I watch the show in the States, I also belong to the mailing list and the fan club on Yahoo! groups, and I bought his book. So sue me.

Anyways, Anderson has a "blog" sort-of thing on the 360 CNN site. On his blog, Anderson writes entries about where he is, whether it be in Mumbai, New York, whatever. His most recent entries discuss his trip into Israel, especially to Nahariya, the city in the north currently being bombarded by Hizbollah katyushas. I cannot tell you how disappointed I was when I found out that Florida was not on Anderson's book signing tour. But now we are in the same country approximately the size of New Jersey. But that's besides the point.

In his first entry from Israel, Anderson is at the airport talking to Israelis and seems to be astounded by their "life-goes-on attitude." He recalls a trip to Israel a few years ago where he watched a bomb squad disassemble a bag that was left along the street. After being destroyed, the people applauded.

The people that Anderson interviews in Nahariya are Israelis in every sense of the word. They wouldn't live in Israel if they didn't realize that it was all a risk. It's a risk living in below a country basically run by terrorists, it's a risk living in Israel, it's a risk living in the Middle East, it's a risk LIVING. Period.

Most of the comments left on his blog are from people in the States: Minnesota, Kentucky (do they get CNN in Kentucky), continental U.S. I left a comment. And here is what I said:

"Bruchim Habaim. Welcome to Israel, Anderson. It IS just another day. How about doing a book signing here?"
-Shayna in Jerusalem, Israel

Shabbat Shalom

2006-07-15T02:02:00.000+03:00

A Prayer for the Israeli Soldiers (courtesy of OU.org):

He Who blessed our forefathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob -- may He bless the fighters of the Israel Defense Forces, who stand guard over our land and the cities of our God, from the border of the Lebanon to the desert of Egypt, and from the Great Sea unto the approach of the Aravah, on the land, in the air, and on the sea.

May the Almighty cause the enemies who rise up against us to be struck down before them. May the Holy One, Blessed is He, preserve and rescue our fighters from every trouble and distress and from every plague and illness, and may He send blessing and success in their every endeavor.

May He lead our enemies under our soldiers' sway and may He grant them salvation and crown them with victory. And may there be fulfilled for them the verse: For it is the Lord your God, Who goes with you to battle your enemies for you to save you.

Now let us respond: Amen.

May God also bring a swift and speedy recovery to those Israeli soldiers currently missing in action and comfort to the families of all the soldiers lost in the past week.

Good shabbos and love to all my family and friends,
Shayna

Adventures in Israeli Cinema

2006-07-13T18:09:00.000+03:00

After being put off from seeing an Israeli film a few days back because it had no English subtitles, thanks to Israeli friends (Leeat rocks), I was able to see a film I had read about online. The film, in Hebrew is "Ha-Buah," in English, "The Bubble." Basically, the bubble is slang for the life of a group of people in Tel Aviv, Israel's Miami or New York City. The movie centers around 3 roommates, two gay guys and a straight girl (yes, the plot is already dodgy, but hang in there). One of the gay guys is a soldier at a checkpoint in Shechem (Nablus). While home from reserve duty, one of the Palestinians he searched at the checkpoint shows up at his door and enters his life on numerous levels. The movie is directed by Eytan Fox, a prominent Israeli filmmaker known for his controversial films, most of which revolving around gay themes (Fox is gay himself). His movies are often at times very harsh and bordering on the NC-17 level.

So that's the plot and the gist. I had seen Fox's other films (I own two currently) and was excited to finally have someone to see the newest film with who not only understood Hebrew, but would sit through such a film (not everyone has the intestinal fortitude for Eytan Fox and that is understandable). The movie theater was absolutely packed. So you are probably wondering "Wow, this probably really annoyed your friend who had to translate the entire movie for you." Wrong. I didn't need the entire flm translated. I believe that a filmmaker is successful if the viewer can understand the movie despite an obvious language difficulty. Mission: Accomplished.

The end of the film left most of the audience in their seats and absolutely speechless. Hands covering mouths. Tears were even flowing among some of the younger people in the auditorium. I was in awe. Although my political beliefs may not be on the same spectrum as Fox, I think the raw humanity shown in this film was well worth the language barrier.

What this movie also shows is how similar two different people are. Inside everyone is a soul, heart, brain, etc. Too often though we let others dictate what we should feel or think or do. What one chooses to do with these elements, making their own choices or acting upon the will of others, ultimately decides their fate as this movie discusses.

Out of 5 falafel balls: 5.

FYI to family and friends

2006-07-11T18:10:00.000+03:00

I've set up a photo account at flickr. Here is the address:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/offtoisrael

There is also a link to this site under the section "these are a few of my favorite links."

And, I've enabled comments so that you don't have to be a blog user.

All is well.

Waste Not, Want Chips (that's french fries to us Americans)

2006-07-11T00:02:00.000+03:00

This evening after taking in a movie ("The Sentinel" with Kiefer Sutherland) in Talpiot (a city next to the German Colony), I decided to pick up a late dinner at a joint on Emek Refaim. The place is called Burger's Bar, and I don't know if that's the owner's name, a spelling error, or what. But anyways, they have a great grilled chicken sandwich and awesome sliced potato chips.

I'm standing at the counter waiting for my order when a lady pushes up beside me and starts yelling at the cook behind the counter in English. She says she did not order a spicy burger and that she wants another one. The cook apologizes and the woman walks away. The cook, a young man probably my age, is an observant Jew. Depite the Guess! jeans and Converse sneakers, he is wearing a yarmulke and has a short beard. He takes the burger, mumbles something under his breath, softly kisses the top of the burger bun, then throws it in the trash.

He goes on to my order. I ask him why he kissed the burger bun. What he said really opened my eyes. "I say a prayer over the burger because I am throwing away food that someone else doesn't have. In this world we should not throw away food we don't like." He handed me my order and I walked outside. I ate my dinner but not without thinking about what the cook said. Although the woman might have a good reason for not being able to eat a spicy burger (perhaps acid reflux, yada yada), a meal went to waste.

Every generation, a new group of people is starving. For our parents when they wouldn't eat their veggies, it was the Armenians, our older brothers or sisters it was the Ethiopians. For my generation, its everyone. Even in the place considered holy to the three montheistic traditions, people still go hungry. So what does one do. Get involved. Donate tzedakah (that's Hebrew for rightousness or just plain charity), or more importantly, be informed. Keep your eyes and ears open to what's going on in the world. And don't let your chips, or soup cans go to waste.

What's your frequency, Shayna?

2006-07-09T15:58:00.000+03:00

One thing that Israelis are not at a lack for are opinions. Opinions on everything: the places you go, the people you see, the things you wear, most importantly, the music you listen, too. For example, the other night, I was invited to dinner with some friends of a friend at Max Brenner's Chocolate Bar in Tel Aviv (for my fellow Americans, Max Brenner's is a restaurant that only serves chocolate: drinks, deserts, etc.). While at dinner, I tried rotating around the table so I could talk to everyone. With every rotation, the conversation turned to music. I guess of all things in the world, it's easy to disucess music with people. Music as they say is the universal language. Anyways, they would ask me what music I liked, and vice versa.

Random Israeli: What music station do you listen to?
Shayna: I don't have a radio currently, but online I sometimes listen to Radio Tel Aviv.
RI: Radio Tel Aviv!? That's a... how you say.....yuppie station! You should listen to GalGalatz (that's a military station out of Jerusalem
Shayna: Oh....okay.

And so this conversation took place about 4 or 5 times with the radio station that I should be listening to, changing, about 4 or 5 times. GalGalatz, Radio Haifa, etc. etc.

Next,

Random Israel: What kind of music do you like?
Shayna: I'll listen to pretty much anything. I really like hip hop.
RI: Hip hop!? This 50 Cent is terrible! He no play instruments! How can he be called a musician!
Shayna: Well, he's sold millions of records so obviously someone thinks he's a musician.
RI: One can't account for good taste......

Begin week 2.

"Ani Rotzah Madonna. At Rotzeh Madonna?"

2006-07-06T12:17:00.000+03:00

Boy, do I pick the strangest taxi drivers. I'm leaving the Malcha Mall after purchasing a laundry bag, hangers, and a Cosmo magazine, and I get into a cab with a younger driver. Nothing is more awkward than a young taxi driver trying to flirt with you when there is an obvious language barrier. But did this stop him? Of course not.

Avi the Awkward Taxi Driver: You speak ivrit (Hebrew)?
Shayna the Unsuspecting American Passenger: Catzat ivrit (little Hebrew).
AATD: At rotzah pizza (Do you like pizza)?
SUAP: Ani rotzah pizza. Ani rotzah Pizza Sababa l'Emek Refaim. Ani rotzah pizza v'beerah (I like pizza. I like Pizza Sababa in Emek Refaim. I like pizza and beer).
AATD: in broke English You like go to....ehhh....Pizza Sababa achshav (now)?
SUAP: giggling because this is the third taxi driver to ask me out Lo. Ani (I).....have an appointment.
AATD: At rotzah Madonna? Ani rotzeh Madonna.
SUAP: wondering when the topic of conversation changed Ani rotzah Confessions on the Dancefloor.
AATD: Ken, Madonna es sababa! (Yes, Madonna is awesome!)
pulls up to my apartment
SUAP: Esrim v'chamesh shekalim (25 shekels).
AATD: Todah. Regah (Thanks, wait).
proceeds to write down his phone number and hands it over to me
AATD: We eat pizza and....ehhh...hear Madonna.
SUAP: incrediously Ken. Ani rotzah. (Yes, I would like that).
I'm gathering up my stuff. Avi walks around the car and opens the door for me. I am honestly speechless.
AATD: Yalla bye (Good bye!)
SUAP: L'hitraot (Later!)

Ah yes, the bridge between two cultures: Madonna and pizza.

Things that make you go "ewww...."

2006-07-05T20:58:00.002+03:00

Upon my journey down Emek Refaum today I discovered an ice cream shop. In the States, I would always harp on the quality of dairy in Israel. It’s AMAZING. How can dairy qualify as amazing? In the States, the only time I use milk is to wet my cereal (and it’s skim, yum), cheese is either Velveeta or Kraft (both of which are pinnacle of high quality), and the occasional chocolate bar (probably strewn with animal organs or something). In Israel, milk comes in numerous percentiles: 1, 3, 5, and 100% (I stand to be corrected). The yogurts and cheeses are fresh; chocolate is often dark and either imported from Europe or made by Elite, Israel’s candy company. And the ice cream, divine.

So anyways, I come across an ice cream shop about 5 blocks from my apartment. I walk in and just go gaga over the choices: chocolate nougat, fresh vanilla, lemon, strawberry, dark chocolate (did I mention I like chocolate?). I choose a scoop of chocolate nougat which the guy carefully scoops into a cup and weighs on a digital scale (it’ll multiply the weight on my scale by 2). After handing him 8 shekels, I walk outside and sit at a table. Casually glancing around, I look up at a banner hanging over the store.

“Grand Opening: CREAM ‘N DREAM.”

Chocolate nougat squirts out my nose. Honestly though, it was the best I'd ever had.

A funny thing happened on the way to Ramle....

2006-07-04T18:21:00.000+03:00

Two things actually:

I'm at Aroma Cafe on Emek Refaim tapping away on my Frankie b'Tapuach (aka MacBook) when the waiter comes by to drop off my espresso. He bend down to pick up a dropped napkin and notices my taped toes (due to the unfortunate packing/toe dislocation situation).

Waiter: Why do you have tape on your toes?
Shayna snarkily: I'm trying out to be Jeniffer Bealls stunt-double in the new musical version of Flashdance.

Second thing:
I decided to take a taxi to Ramle, only because my backpack was just too heavy to lug onto a bus. The taxi driver asks for my number. Let's see if he actually calls....I should've given him 211 (211 is the Israeli equivelent of 911.)

A Land of Anachronisms

2006-07-03T21:10:00.000+03:00

Earlier today on Emek Refaim (the main thoroughfare of the German Colony), I was abruptly cut off mid-stroll by an Ultra-Orthodoz man passing by on a Segway. His payot and talllitot flying in the wind, no one stopped to look at the man go by. Except me, of course, not used to seeing such a mix of modernity and ancient Breslover ways. Upon entering the Kotel Plaze and plopping open my laptop, I realized I had no pen and paper to write a note with. I’m sure I’ll find a receipt or something to write on.

Israel is the perfect anachronism. My cab driver on the way to the Kotel blasated 50 Cent out the window. Next to the falafel stands are Internet cafes (I'm not sure falafel qualifies as ancient). Standing outside the shuk are boys wearing Nikes and Guess jeans. It seems a happy medium, although, what happens when it isn't happy?

Written Saturday, July 1, 2006, 9:30 P.M.

2006-07-03T21:08:00.000+03:00

After three tearful goodbyes with my Mom and Dad, I am sitting at Gate 19 (well not actually gate 19, but the nearest electrical outlet). My plane begins boarding at 10:30 P.M. and I am scared shitless. As I’ve told everyone else, scared shitless not because of the “situation” in the area, but scared shitless because I am officially an adult. Not that crap that when you turn 21 you can drink, vote, etc. But that I’ve made a decision such as this one.

After I first visited Israel in 2001, I told myself, “I will move there permanently.” Quite a strong statement for a 17 year old. Well, over the past 5 years, things have happened. People have come into my life, and left. Illnesses, births, friends have taken place. And that strong statement, especially over the past year or so has turned into Jell-O. I no longer desire to live in Israel permanently. I do desire to live in Israel, to study, make lasting friendships, and most of all to find myself among the beautiful sunsets and the even more beautiful sunrises.

But then I want to come back. I want to see my nephew grow up. I want to attend my friend’s weddings. I want to see my parents more than once a year. In the span of a lifetime, two years is a perfect amount of time.

As the old adage goes, “the juice is worth the squeeze.” And I’m ready for the squeeze.

The cherry on top....

2006-07-01T05:50:00.000+03:00

So as I am saying goodbye to my brother (hey Jem), my toe begins to bleed. I run into the kitchen to the sink. As I swing my foot up on the counter, I hit it instead dislocating the toe one in from the pinky. It's facing east while the rest of my toes face north. In a state of absolute shock and awe, I slam my foot down on the tile smacking it back into place. So not only do I have a broken toe, I have to fly around the globe with a broken toe. Karma sucks. This is what I get for stealing a kid's lunch money in the first grade.

New blog for a new time.

2006-06-28T22:40:00.000+03:00

Alright, after much fooling around with, I've decided to leave the template the same. No need to go into much explanation for that. Anyhoo, leaving for Israel this Saturday to begin new stage of my life at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Rothberg International School for the next two years. Originally, this blog was meant for my general ranting and ravings. That has changed. This blog is for family and friends interested in my studies, journey, etc. It is for pictures and movies and general entertainment for the masses (I don't know if i know enough people to constitute a mass, but that's besides the point). Beginning Monday, July 3, this blog will be.

Anonymous Purchasing Through Amazon.com, I Wish

2006-05-23T04:07:00.000+03:00

A buddy of mine is celebrating her 21st birthday and in preparation for her birthday has set up a wish list through Amazon.com. Being an avid collector of horror movies, especially direct to video, many of the films on her wish list I had never heard of. I cam across on her list "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon." Obviously, a pinnacle of film catastrophes, I clicked on the link to purchase. Used gently copies were available for something like $5.00: my kind of gift. Out of curriosity, I visited imdb.com to see who was in this film (with the exception of Captain Jack from Doctor Who, no one) and who had directed it.

Now I had talked to my sister-in-law awhile ago about a film school friend of hers who had actually directed the first "Shark Attack" with Casper Van Dien, also a runaway hit. Dialogue was not this dude's cup of tea.

Cataline Stone: [sigh] I'm exhausted.
Ben Carpenter: Yeah, me too. But you know I'm really wired. What do you say I... take you home and eat your not a nice word.

Yeah, definite Oscar potential.

***Photo: Netflix. Why the hell they would supply something like this is beyond me.

Stimulating Conversation

2006-05-15T18:47:00.000+03:00

Random talk in the Judaic Studies department.

Coworker: When you get married, what do you want your first song to be?
Shayna: "Is this love" by Whitesnake.
Coworker: Isn't that the one with the video that has Tawny Kitaen writhing on top of a white convertible?
Shayna: Yup. But to class it up I'll have the band play "Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller.
Coworker: Sounds good.

The Bay City Rollers said it best....

2006-04-17T00:38:00.000+03:00

My favorite thing to do on a saturday night is to go into the yahoo! jewish chat room and to see the crazies go at it (yes, I have no life). Among the Jews in the chat room are often Muslims with names like "allahuakbar69" or "arafatwasmyhomeboy." And they rant and rave about how the Jews are taking over the world and poisoning bananas entering the Gaza for Muslim student consumption (mwahahaha!), etc. But as I'm sitting there, not really paying attention, I get IM's out the wazoo. The profile as so: Male, late 20's, early 30's, frum, and married. Kind of strikes me as odd that a frum, married male would IM a single, not frum, female. Here's a snippet from the conversation I had with one last night:

ChaiTail18 names changed to protect the tzadikks. Hello.
krazy_kugel me: Sup?
ChaiTail18: asl? age/sex/location
krazy_kugel: 21/F/FL
ChaiTail: You frum?
krazy_kugel YES! Another frummie! Only when I wear a long skirt.
ChaiTail: Married?

This is where it gets good....

krazy_kugel: Better question: are you?
ChaiTail18: Yes, I am.
krazy_kugel: So why may I ask are you talking to a single, not frum, female, when you should be spending time with your wife and five kids that's only an assumption, but I'm sure the number is in the vicinity?
ChaiTail18: Do you have a picture? not at all answering my question
krazy_kugel: You first, stud.

Ortho Boy proceeds to pull up a pic of himself. Dude is tall, chunky, yarmulka wearing, red payis and beard, tzitzis hanging out. Oy gevalt.

ChaiTail18: What about you?
krazy_kugel: I'm too impure for you. Happy Pesach...now go look for some chametz.
signs off and then gets IMed by another frum married dude. Proceeds to happen six more times.

What is this about? Why are they looking for tail in a chat room? Did tznius and honesty get lost in the translation. So fucked up. It reminds me of the movie "A Price Above Rubies" starring the wonderful Christopher Eccleston, as a shrewd brother-in-law who basically forces Renee Zellweger's character to be shtupped(yiddish for "screwed") by him, because her husband won't do it with her. I should say this once and for all. The only married, frum dude I have ever had a crush on is Tevye the Dairyman from Fiddler on the Roof. Gunug (yiddish for "enough").

L'Shana Ha'baa B'Yerushalayim....

2006-04-14T16:34:00.000+03:00

Literally. :)

P.S. Matzah is the leading cause of constipation this week. Be forewarned.

A Jew, a Muslim, and a raving Goy walk into a bar...

2006-04-13T17:34:00.000+03:00

Tuesday, during the second half of History of the Jewish People, Part II, Dr. Hanson decided to take us to the Trialogue. This event, which was sponsored by Hillel, Campus Crusade for Christ, and the Muslim Student Association (all the students of that organization are on the FBI watchlist...j/k), basically brought in the executive director of Hillel at UCF, a New Testament "scholar", and the local imam, to discuss the differences and similarities between the three religions. In the few years that they have been putting on this event, it's just snowballed. The ballroom in the Union was packed.

So my friend, Abeer the token Muslim, and I proceed to sit in the corner of the room on the floor right as the imam begins talking. Abeer had picked up a free copy of the Qur'an for me before we came in. She flips through it and leans over saying, "Do you want to see my favorite passage?" I nod and she marks off a page. I look at the Sura and it's the passage where Muhammed is given the prophetic vision from the angel Gabriel. Abeer leans over and whispers, and this is what I hear:

Abeer: This is the passage in which the angel Peter Gabriel gives Muhammed a prophetic vision.
Shayna: shaking head in absolute confusionTHE ANGEL PETER GABRIEL! WHAT!
The Entire Room: SHHHHH!

Abeer and I run out of the room and we burst out laughing. Peter Gabriel :) Ha.

"This is the land of milk and honey!"

2006-03-28T18:32:00.000+03:00

I GOT INTO HEBREW UNIVERSITY OF JERUSALEM!

Woo hoo :)

I was asked out by a black dude.....Again.

2006-03-10T17:50:00.001+03:00

Tuesday night, at about 5:00 P.M. I ran off campus to get a quick semi-decent dinner (if you can call McDonald's "semi-decent"). For those who have never seen them before, McDonald's has an automated touch screen thing at the counter so they won't have to higher anymore illegal aliens or high school dropouts. Anyways, I go ahead and begin doing the touch screen and the dude behind me starts laughing (big black dude as the title says). I said, "It's actually kind of fun." So I get my food and sit down. I begin reading my Biblical Archaeology magazine (which I'm sure most 21 year olds have a subscription to...) and the dude is kind of floating around the dining area. Like he's either waiting for someone or just, well, floating around. He finally walks over to me when I of course have a french fry hanging out of my face. So here it goes:

BBD (Big Black Dude): So I see you go to Rollins?

UWC (Unsuspecting White Chick): wearing a UCF sweatshirt today. I hope you're joking.

BBD: Yes, of course! I'm Joe by the way. holds out hand.

UWC: shakes hand. Shayna. Nice to meet you.

BBD: So eating dinner alone tonight?

UWC: Yeah, well I have class in about a half an hour till 8:50, so just a quick meal.

BBD: Well, what are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?

UWC: thinking to self, "Oh fuck." I'm having dinner with my boyfriend. lying through my teeth.
BBD: Oh....no problem!

UWC: I'm sorry...it was very nice of you to ask, but yeah, that's the situation.

BBD: That's alright! Well, you enjoy your dinner and good luck in class.

UWC: That's alright, have a good night. continues to eat dinner wondering what the hell just happened.

Yeah, so as the title of the post says, this is the second time this situation has occurred. The first time was about 2 years ago. I had gone to visit my grandmother at the cemetery after coming back from a trip to Israel. As I was heading to my car, another big black dude (this one I guess being the cemetery caretaker) came over to me asking me if I was alright. I was kneeling down at the gravesite talking to her (I guess I could look schizophrenic to someone in the near vicinity, but then again, doesn't everyone act strangely at a cemetery?). At this point in my life, everything seemed to be going down the shit-hole, so I had asked my grandmother to send me a "sign" saying that all would be well, truthfully not really expecting one. I told the man I was fine and that I was just visiting. He then proceeded to ask me if I had a boyfriend to which I replied that I did (this was after the agonizing December 2004 trip when I didn't know what Ron and I actually were, so rather safe than sorry, I said he was my bf). He politely apologized then walked away. I got in my car and began to drive. Once out of the cemetery, I pulled over to the side of the rode and began hysterically laughing. My grandmother is one sick bitch to send me such a fucked up sign. But I digress :)

Anyways, after the McDonald's incident on my way to class, I called my mother and told her and she started hysterically laughing. Why the hell can I attract big black dudes but not white Jewish boys? What the fuck is up with that? She said to take it as a compliment and to go to class. And that's what I did. Maybe my fat ass is good for something.

Bug-a-boo.

2006-03-06T20:26:00.000+03:00

My boy, Kilroy.

Clean Kilroy.

"I've shown you my pupik, now show me YOURS!"

Auto-Mechanical Malpractice

2006-03-05T06:23:00.000+03:00

Funny thing happened at the Mobil Quik-Lube. Upon having my oil flushed and replaced (high-mileage for those who were concerned), the mechanic came up to my window and proceeded to hand me a dirty screwdriver. "Sorry, but Chanukah ain't till November" I say to the dude. He says, "We found this under your hood and assumed it was yours. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble. I'm a female and do you actually think I look under my hood that often (stupid of me, of course)." I told the guy it was probably from the last person who changed my oil at this place. I told him to keep it. Upon thanking me for the gift, the manager of the station comes up to my window and apologizes for the problem (G-d forbid it could have gotten caught somewhere in the engine possibly allowing my car to go up into a firy blaze) and gives me a $5 discount on the oil change. Talk about a strange situation. I almost compare it to those Dateline NBC stories where a dude gets a clamp left inside of him after a surgery. Oy.

You know that feeling you get in your stomach when you are unsure of something (or just ate crap-ass Chinese food)?

2006-03-01T21:03:00.000+03:00

Well here it damn well is (and it ain't the Chinese food). Stephen Lynch as Robbie Hart in the the new Broadway musical The Wedding Singer. I've been known to quote dialogue from this movie, which basically means, I love it. Adam Sandler, rock on. Drew Barrymore, Allen Covert. Totally. But this!? And Stephen Lynch? Argh!

I am related to this child.

2006-02-27T20:44:00.000+03:00

Email from my brother which accompanied the photo:

Shaye's new bathtime game is to go "swimming" in the tub--here's a
photo, complete with bubbly tush and dangling tongue.

Holy Leaping Lutherans from St.Louis, Missouri, Batman!

2006-02-23T17:32:00.000+03:00

Yesterday provided me with an interesting adventure. After Diplomacy class, I decided to head to a local churce to find a used or damaged copy of the New Testament for use in my Dead Sea Scrolls class (many of the writings in the Dead Sea Scrolls sound scarily similar to those of Paul, or Timothy, etc. and since I am a Jew and don't have any clue who these people are, I figured I should get a copy of the New Testament and have a clue). I didn't feel comfortable purchasing a copy of the New Testament (my brother had 5 or 6, but he was a biblical scholar and had use for them). What would I do with it when I was done with the semester? So I headed to Oviedo's St. Luke Lutheran Church. Whenever I go to the mall, I always see this church. It's a beautiful giant brick building in what was at one point a Slovak community. On the same plot of land, St. Luke's also has a small clinic, childcare center, and Senior center (pretty damn charitable it you ask me).

Anyways, I go into the church office and ask the girl at the desk if she might know if the church has any old, or damaged copies of the New Testament they might be willing to give me for use this semester. The girl says to go into the acutal church and she'll bring me out a copy (why I couldn't just wait outside is beyond me). The inside of the church was HUGE. Beautiful stained glass windows and wood pews. Very pretty. So about 2 minutes later, a young man (probably in his early 30's) walks in a sits down in the pew next to me and introduces himself as the youth pastor. I'm thinking to myself, "So that's how they are going to try and get me to convert! Sic the handsome youth pastor on me! Jesus Christ (literally)!."

The guy hands me a big, hardcover New Testament, a new one (which looks like it's never been touched), to which I say, "You don't have to give me a new one. I would have been happy with an old or damaged copy." He proceeds to say, "No! It's all yours! We love visitors of other faiths! Just promise us you'll do well in your course and come back and see us sometime." He hands me over to an office volunteer who proceeds to hand me every piece of literature ever written about the Lutheran Church. More than I probably ever wanted to know.

Anyways, I left with my New Testament. Jews, by tradition, are not supposed to enter other religion's houses of worship. Just one of those things. But in the past, the only churches I had ever been to were what I guess I would call "tourist churches." The National Cathedral in D.C. and the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. This was a church-church. And I felt kind of awkward in the way that I knew that behind their niceness was still a "We are here to save you and say we are sorry for killing 6 million of your fellow brethren back in Germany" kind of purpose. And I guess that's not just how I feel walking into a Lutheran church, but even on campus sometimes. About a year ago I was approached by a girl from Campus Crusade who pretty much flat out said she wanted to "save me." I don't want to be "saved"! Let me "save" myself. Considering I don't believe in an eternal barbecue pit known as hell, what good is it anyways?

Shaye, the Prince of Poopdom Ass-ends his Throne!

2006-02-07T03:32:00.000+03:00

Shaye inspects his throne. Only the best!
Shaye sits and thinks to himself....
"It's good to be the king!"

Fulbright results....

2006-02-02T19:16:00.000+03:00

Denied.

Random Observation of the Day

2006-01-27T22:08:00.000+03:00

Have you ever noticed how smoking hot Alexander Hamilton looks on the $10 bill?

Too bad he was a capitalistic shmuck.

Pretty damn funny, if you ask me...

2006-01-27T16:56:00.000+03:00

According to the Jerusalem Post, 14 Palestinians elected the other day to the Palestinian Legislative Council are currently serving time in Israeli jails. That means on that on the first day the Palestinian Legislative Council meets, 11% of the representatives will be missing. What a farce!

Future Spin Doctor!

2006-01-22T20:57:00.000+03:00

Nashki Oti (Kiss Me)

2006-01-19T18:05:00.000+03:00

For my non-Jewish or non-Hebrew speaking friends, I have posted the lyrics to a song I've been humming for about 2 weeks now. It's be an artist named Sivan Shavit, an Israeli, who had her 1997 song featured in the 2005 movie, Walk on Water, starring the Israeli hottie, Lior Ashkenazi (if you are interested in watching the movie, I have it on DVD). If you are interested in hearing the song, I have it on MP3 as well. Anyways, here it is, in Hebrew with the translation italicized.

Nashki Oti (Kiss Me)

Shneinu nos'im bamechonit
ani lo yoda'at le'an nagi'a
kshehahegeh nimtza bayadaim shelcha
atah tamid chayav lehafti'a
ani lo yecholah lehafsik
lehistakel al hapanim shelcha betoch hare'i
ve'ata margish kol tnu'ah
shole'ach letifah el hasfataim sheli.
The two of us going in the car
I don't know where we'll arrive to
when the steering is in your hands
you always have to surprise (me)
I can't stop
to look at your face in the mirror
and you feel each movement
you send a caress to my lips.

Shneinu nos'im bamechonit
atah omer li haderech tihyeh arukah
ushe'ani yecholah lahiradem
acharei zeh tesaper li kol mah shekarah
ani lo yeshenah
soferet kochavim derech chorim basmichah
ve'atah im sigariah bapeh
shar li im haradio shir ahavah.
The two of us going in the car
you say to me the road will be long
and that I can fall asleep
afterward you'll tell me all that happened
I am not asleep
I'm counting stars through the holes in support-frame
and you, with a cigarette in your mouth,
sing a song of love to me with the radio.

Nashki oti chazak
nashki ad sheyich'av
vehashemesh lo tishk'a
at achat veyechidah
ahuvati hamufla'ah
va'ani ohev otach.
Kiss me strongly
kiss until it hurts,
and the sun won't set
you are one and only
my marvellous love
and I love you.

Shneinu nos'im bamechonit
halevai sheyacholnu linso'a lanetzach
atah choshev she'ani
mizman kvar nirdamti velo makshivah
ech atah im sigariah bapeh
shar li im haradio shir ahavah.
The two of us going in the car
if only we could go forever
you think that I've
already been asleep for a while and not listening
how you, with a cigarette in your mouth,
sing a song of love to me with the radio.

Nashki oti chazak...Kiss me strongly...

And Lior Ashkenazi, just cause :) (That's him all the way on the left.)

Reconsidering

2006-01-13T19:31:00.000+03:00

So, something I've never really thought about up until the past 2 years or so is kids (is that grammatically correct?). Before Shaye was born, I had done my fair share of volunteering and working with children, whether at the art museum or at a daycare center in middle school. I had been asked to babysit many times (to which I politely declined, even when bribed) and asked to hold a baby every once in awhile (to which I'd oblige only after I had been guaranteed that no poop or pee would end up on me). When I was younger and was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, unlike the other girls, I never replied, "I want to be a Mommy." And I never said, "I want two children, a weimereiner, and a two-car garage. And maybe a decent looking husband." To me, children and marriage were just something that happened to chicks who had nothing else better to do with their time. Something there, but not neccessarily, well, neccessary. I used to look down on women who basically said that their life goal was to be a mother and wife.

But it hasn't been until I'd really been with Shaye, when I'd get the opportunity, that I'd thought about parenthood. After holding Shaye as a baby, and I never worried about his poop or pee on me (okay, maybe once or twice), and playing with him (the kid is almost 2!), I'd reconsidered motherhood and wife-hood. I remember when I visited Shaye for the first time since his bris (it was during the High Holidays in 2004), I was talking to Rae while she was feeding him a bottle. I asked her, "So how does it feel?" She replied quietly with a big smile, "It's pretty cool." Motherhood...pretty cool....hmmm.

Now, I'm not saying here "I want to be a mother, NOW!" I'm just saying that maybe zero kids isn't the way for me. One kid sounds alright. Two may be overkill. And marriage? I never dreamed of what my wedding would be like (which is pretty retarded considering I'm chronically single). What the fuck does it matter if I'm wearing tulle or satin? As a young woman, I've had to realize that not everyone's goal is to be on top of the Fortune 500 or out in the workplace. But their career is being a mother and wife. It's 100% NOT me, but I have learned to respect others decisions and life plans.

Lately, I've been reconsidering a lot of things. Reconsidering my future mostly. Just as I've reconsidered children and marriage . Do I really want to be stick thin? Do I really want to have perfect eyesight? Do I really want to move over to Israel permanently (that one's a biggie for those who know me)? Do I really need to be in a relationship? I guess you could call this my "Belated New Year's Post." Well here are the answers:

1) No, I don't really want to be stick thin. Maybe "Sharpie" or "Small Tree Trunk" think would be nice.

2) I've worn glasses for 18 years, what difference would it make now to have perfect eyesight?

3) Dad.

4) I've made a decision. I will not give myself over to a man (in marriage, relationship, whatever), until I am COMPLETELY satisfied with myself: mind, body, soul, and ectoplasm.

So that's my deep post for the week. How did I do?

Officially the saddest movie I have ever seen...ever.

2006-01-10T05:48:00.000+03:00

Now I know there are some Andrew Lloyd Webber fans out there who feel that his work is the work of genius. Whatever. Out of sheer boredom from reading chapter two of Henry Kissinger's "Diplomacy" I turned the TV on to HBO. Lo and behold, Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera was on. Not terrible. But really sad! I was unfamiliar with the storyline before watching. Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson have amazing voices, but why did they pick someone like Gerard Butler for the Phantom. Don't get me wrong. He's an incredibly powerful and passionate actor and has a body like Zeus (I would not mind laying a platter of Hostess Twinkies at his feet, ifyaknowwhatImean....). But not the greatest voice. Oh well. It at least gives me an excuse to put up a pic of him.

Oh alright! One more....

****And I am not embarassed to say that I actually enjoyed Timeline and Tomb Raider 2.

A Poem and a Prayer

2006-01-05T23:18:00.000+03:00

With kind thoughts and hopes for the recovery of Israeli Prime-Minister, Ariel Sharon.

A Man In His Life

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

--------Yehuda Amichai