My fingers run over the smooth surfaces, finding the places in between that are rough or hard to find. My hands guide me along the wall like brail on a page I begin to see the mysteries before me unfold, like a story in a book, the triumphs and the failures begin to unfold. I come to a spot where my body drags me against the warm rock. I press my face gently to it, taking in everything, the smell of history around me, the sounds of prayer and being there for the first time.
Next to me the woman is crying, for what reason I don't know. I keep praying. "Barauch atah Adonai..." I begin, filling in with the rest of the prayer I've come to know by heart. My hand brushes the hand of the woman next to me and I rest it there. I hold her hand her tears fall against my hand. This stranger that I don't know, I help and comfort her, her head on my shoulder and me praying. My prayers I know have reached Hashem. Praying for more than just myself, the tears begin to flow down my own cheeks. I wipe them off, bid my crying friend goodbye, and turn to return to the rest of the group.
The wind flows over my face, and I breathe it in, shabbat is in the air. Back at the kibbutz, we come in to begin tefillah. The Rabbi asks quietly if anyone know a this one niggun, I do. I begin humming along with him. People look up as if to question what's going on, some look at me with strange looks on their faces, other's give me a pitiful look. I keep singing, and soon, everyone has joined in. My soul begins to reach Hashem as I let my soul unwind from all of the weeks troubles and self concious worries, or any other such tiresome care. I place my heart in my hands, and raise it to G-d, I pray a full shabbat evening service, even though we're only doing a reform service. I sing the tunes that the Beth-El'ers use. I harmonize where no one else but my family does.
I smell Mom's challah all of sudden, and my eyes are filled with tears, as I remember what I'm missing. The challah here pales in comparison, the foods okay, but nothing I'd really eat to satisfy my cravings, just to keep me healthy.
I so much miss home, but I'm in love with this country that it's hard to find a specific balance between the two. And as I sit here in my room all by myself, in the quiet solitude of my own company, I'm able to hear it as just one more helpful voice telling me where my heart is. It's not with the boys, they're to over-rated for now. It's not with the girls here, for as amazing as some of them, I just haven't been intruiged nor wanted them. It's in the history of Judaism and where my ancestors and my family's ancestors came from. It's in the language that is spoken so beautifully here. It's in the place where my parents are and where my dreams meet them at night. It's why I wake up at night crying softly sometimes. It's why I'm not wanting to tell people things anymore. The silent geeky kid, the one who know's everything. That's me to everyone else who can't see deeper into me. It's why I know more about themselves than they do, I've grown up, I don't shed my tears over them, I shed my tears for those who couldn't come, for my parents who aren't coming. I shed tears for being able to be here, to expierence this and yet not wanting it because no one is here to share it with me. I shed my tears for the emotions I have but can't explain, for the hug I need but can't receive, for the people I love so much but can't see right when I need them. I shed tears for reason's only I feel important.
Tonight I shed my tears because I cannot be with you on this shabbat, for the portion that I don't get to discuss, for the things I miss now seem more important. Life is good, it really is, but it's not home either. Things get better day by day, we become closer, I talk a little more, I breathe a little easier, I speak a little more freely. I use less duct-tape on my mouth to hold myself back. I love this place but I hate not having you here. I need you but I need to rely on myself, and this is hard, but I can do it... Hineni... Here I am.........
Shabbat Shalom,
Heather
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Day three
As I sit in the near quiet confines of my now nearly evacuated room, I'm able to get into the mindset to be able to finally write. Between the emotional conflict that is constantly running inside of me as I try to figure out how I indeed do feel about this country and how I feel about the people here I am able to enjoy certain moments as they come and go.
Besides unintentionally labeling myself as a nerd in Judaic History class, I'm able to enjoy everything that I'm learning. So far we've begun by learning some basic gamatria, it's really cool actually, all those letters having numeric value, and the rules along with it. Going to the archeological dig was pretty cool as well, despite my fears of being crushed to death and no one ever hearing me or saving me only to be found by some archeologist many years later and being discarded as unimportant. I was able to find what I believe to be a femur of an animal. My theory is that the room we where searching in was used as a food storage room or a slaughter house. I was identified as a great classmate (I knew the answers to all the questions the teacher asked as well as many other others. In hebrew class I've found that so far it's reletively easy, I'm in level 5, there are 6 levels. With a whopping 6 other classmates, 7 counting myself, I have a strange feeling that I won't actually be in this class for to long, we're starting in the middle of our book anyway. I once again proved my a nerd using vocabulary that most kids didn't understand. Unfortunately I don't know the past tense very well, and so I can't move up a level yet. Algebra went really well, there are 9 kids in my class, and as far as I can tell from the syllabus we're covering a lot of stuff that I already know. That's good though, my teacher (Jen Gold), is really cool, she teaches things in a way I pick up really fast....in song! I now have a song to remember things like the quadratic equation. I haven't had chemistry yet I go to that very soon though and I'm actually really excited for that.
Between missing everyone at home, peeing 5 rivers a day, and helping everyone else feel good about themselves and being used as a therapist while I actually IM, facebook chat or e-mail other people, things are okay. Homework is really light for right now....I say that very cautiously though. Tomorrow we go to the kotel for Shabbat, we're still spending it on the kibbutz, and unlike our trip to the archeological dig where I found out that after you drink 2 and a half liter's of water, if you feel like you have to go you HAVE to go, I now know that I will be using the bathroom every time I get the chance.
Anyway, last night as I complained I found peace with the cool wind blowing all around me, the stars shining above me, and the spirit of Israel all around me whispering "it's going to be okay" in my ear, G-d wrapping his/her arms around me like a protective blanket or a shield there to help me through the tough times.
Well I will have more to tell you later and in about an hour or two I will be on again. I've got Chemistry class soon and then I'm done for the day. I can do my homework in peace and quiet and talk to you as well without anyone else there to bother me! I love you all and will talk to you all later.
Leheetraot!
Besides unintentionally labeling myself as a nerd in Judaic History class, I'm able to enjoy everything that I'm learning. So far we've begun by learning some basic gamatria, it's really cool actually, all those letters having numeric value, and the rules along with it. Going to the archeological dig was pretty cool as well, despite my fears of being crushed to death and no one ever hearing me or saving me only to be found by some archeologist many years later and being discarded as unimportant. I was able to find what I believe to be a femur of an animal. My theory is that the room we where searching in was used as a food storage room or a slaughter house. I was identified as a great classmate (I knew the answers to all the questions the teacher asked as well as many other others. In hebrew class I've found that so far it's reletively easy, I'm in level 5, there are 6 levels. With a whopping 6 other classmates, 7 counting myself, I have a strange feeling that I won't actually be in this class for to long, we're starting in the middle of our book anyway. I once again proved my a nerd using vocabulary that most kids didn't understand. Unfortunately I don't know the past tense very well, and so I can't move up a level yet. Algebra went really well, there are 9 kids in my class, and as far as I can tell from the syllabus we're covering a lot of stuff that I already know. That's good though, my teacher (Jen Gold), is really cool, she teaches things in a way I pick up really fast....in song! I now have a song to remember things like the quadratic equation. I haven't had chemistry yet I go to that very soon though and I'm actually really excited for that.
Between missing everyone at home, peeing 5 rivers a day, and helping everyone else feel good about themselves and being used as a therapist while I actually IM, facebook chat or e-mail other people, things are okay. Homework is really light for right now....I say that very cautiously though. Tomorrow we go to the kotel for Shabbat, we're still spending it on the kibbutz, and unlike our trip to the archeological dig where I found out that after you drink 2 and a half liter's of water, if you feel like you have to go you HAVE to go, I now know that I will be using the bathroom every time I get the chance.
Anyway, last night as I complained I found peace with the cool wind blowing all around me, the stars shining above me, and the spirit of Israel all around me whispering "it's going to be okay" in my ear, G-d wrapping his/her arms around me like a protective blanket or a shield there to help me through the tough times.
Well I will have more to tell you later and in about an hour or two I will be on again. I've got Chemistry class soon and then I'm done for the day. I can do my homework in peace and quiet and talk to you as well without anyone else there to bother me! I love you all and will talk to you all later.
Leheetraot!
Day Two
So at the moment, my emotions are getting the better part of me. I'm holding it all together, or at least trying to. I have about an hour until I need to go meet my general studies teachers. I also have to go get a bunch of stuff changed because it says I'm in all three of the classes that I pulled out of, I'm not sure though, but I'm getting it taken care of.
We prayed weekday morning shachrit today, and it was the best thing of my life. There were so many moments of the day that just made me feel like I was where I needed to be at the right time. Starting out we began singing a niggun that no one knew what so ever, but within a few moments the room was filled with over half of us struggling to learn it and singing along with the guitar.
I'm gradually making more friends...kind of. I'm not doing so well at it, I'm not quiet, just a lot of people already know each other and aren't exactly working on making other friends either.
I got put in the highest intermediate class, I'm the closest to being put into the advanced class. I'm really proud of myself the teacher told me that I spoke really well, and that she can tell I understand at the level of an advanced student I just don't have enough vocabulary to get there.
It's so beautiful out here. I woke up this morning at about 4:30am, and just looked outside, my room has a view of Jerusalem, and I watched the sunrise and said a shehechianu. I sneezed 3 times, Katie told me to make a wish, and all I could wish for was that you guys were here. I can tell that I'm starting to become homesick. It feels like camp, but at the same time I can tell this wasn't what I thought it would be. It's so much more, and I haven't even gotten to the half of it just yet. I've not taken any pictures yet, I'm going to do that tonight I think, but I've been in a lot of pictures.
I'm the only Heather in the group, the official count in 119 kids. All of my counselors are amazing. We're taking a field trip tomorrow to the archaeological dig tomorrow I think, but I could be wrong.
I'm attempting to not cry right now. I don't know why I'm going to cry, but I know that emotionally I'm so overwhelmed.
I found out that the kibbutz produces safety glass, which is good cause I run into a lot of things, so at least I know I won't break anything.
I've been doing a ton of walking and my tushy is killing me! I'm going to have buns of steal when I get home.... fun! Anyway, not much of the great life changing blogs yet. I'll probably write one tonight or tomorrow or sometime this week. So that's my update for right now as of my break today!
I love and miss you all way more than I would ever normally admit to.
Don't worry daddy, the guys still see me as a wall flower and as someone who's funny and apparently the only person who can sow and mend clothes.... I've already made about 5 repairs to jeans, sweaters, shirts...etc. okay time to go calm down and see if any of you are on-line and talk to you if you are!
We prayed weekday morning shachrit today, and it was the best thing of my life. There were so many moments of the day that just made me feel like I was where I needed to be at the right time. Starting out we began singing a niggun that no one knew what so ever, but within a few moments the room was filled with over half of us struggling to learn it and singing along with the guitar.
I'm gradually making more friends...kind of. I'm not doing so well at it, I'm not quiet, just a lot of people already know each other and aren't exactly working on making other friends either.
I got put in the highest intermediate class, I'm the closest to being put into the advanced class. I'm really proud of myself the teacher told me that I spoke really well, and that she can tell I understand at the level of an advanced student I just don't have enough vocabulary to get there.
It's so beautiful out here. I woke up this morning at about 4:30am, and just looked outside, my room has a view of Jerusalem, and I watched the sunrise and said a shehechianu. I sneezed 3 times, Katie told me to make a wish, and all I could wish for was that you guys were here. I can tell that I'm starting to become homesick. It feels like camp, but at the same time I can tell this wasn't what I thought it would be. It's so much more, and I haven't even gotten to the half of it just yet. I've not taken any pictures yet, I'm going to do that tonight I think, but I've been in a lot of pictures.
I'm the only Heather in the group, the official count in 119 kids. All of my counselors are amazing. We're taking a field trip tomorrow to the archaeological dig tomorrow I think, but I could be wrong.
I'm attempting to not cry right now. I don't know why I'm going to cry, but I know that emotionally I'm so overwhelmed.
I found out that the kibbutz produces safety glass, which is good cause I run into a lot of things, so at least I know I won't break anything.
I've been doing a ton of walking and my tushy is killing me! I'm going to have buns of steal when I get home.... fun! Anyway, not much of the great life changing blogs yet. I'll probably write one tonight or tomorrow or sometime this week. So that's my update for right now as of my break today!
I love and miss you all way more than I would ever normally admit to.
Don't worry daddy, the guys still see me as a wall flower and as someone who's funny and apparently the only person who can sow and mend clothes.... I've already made about 5 repairs to jeans, sweaters, shirts...etc. okay time to go calm down and see if any of you are on-line and talk to you if you are!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
D'var Torah: Shemot
I could give you the whole synopsis of this weeks' parsha, but I’m pretty sure that Disney already did that with the movie The Prince of Egypt. Dad keeps telling me there was another movie before that one too. So instead I’m going to think a little abstractly and relate this to me, after all it does seem to be what teens do best.
I was looking at this week's portion and the part that caught my eye is at the part where Moses’s mother puts him in a basket and places him in the Nile. Such blind faith seems unrealistic in today’s time. That a mother could believe that her child will make it without a mother’s protection is quite an extreme, especially for a baby. As Richard Friedman points out, she's betting that the same river where all the other Jewish babies are being drowned is somehow going to save hers. I initially thought that baby Moses was perfectly quiet during his journey – that Prince of Egypt thing again – but then I read the portion and found out he was weeping. But a midrash in the JPS Tanakh says he sounded like a toddler and not a baby, obviously Moses was not a normal child!
At this moment, I can relate on a very personal level to Moses situation – to be put into a small confined space, and rather loudly wonder where on earth you’re going and when you’re going to get there. You see, in 8 short days I will leave my home for Israel, my other home. As part of the Eisendrath International Exchange I will be spending the rest of this semester there. I will be getting into my own basket, placed there by my loving parents, and going down my own Nile. It is a river in which, right now, many mothers are losing their babies, but in which my parents (and I) feel I will discover my life. Who will open my basket I don’t know, but by my blind faith I will go on my own.
Another interesting midrash explores why pharaoh’s daughter reaches out for the basket. They say that she heard a cry for help and reached out towards it to help. A while back some archaeologists found some biblical scenes depicting pharaoh’s daughter reaching out with abnormally long arms to receive the basket. The rabbi’s go on to say that it means that one shouldn’t stop at any lengths to help another. The sages also say that the daughter of pharaoh was stricken with leprosy, so she went down to the River to bathe herself. As soon as she touched the basket, she was healed and because of this she took pity on Moses and loved him even more.
--------
Shemot means names, our names are one of the most important things in our life. They give us an identity. If I called anyone of you, “hey you!” instead of Mom, or Mrs. Shiloh, or Mr. Gabonea, it wouldn’t be the same. The meaning would be lost. Pharaoh's daughter explains that the name it is related to “mashah” or “draw out” since he was drawn out of the water. But Mashah also meant son of. The Egyptians used it to name their children and put one of their gods names in front of it – Ramaseh, Batmaseh and so on. Whether intentionally or not, Pharaoh's daughter named the baby “son of the nameless G-d” or Hashem. What is even more interesting is that for the first 3 months of Moses’s life, he has no name. Not in Torah or in Haftorah, we are not told of what he’s called before Pharaoh’s daughter names him. To begin in the world on such a journey but without anything to be called by seems quite difficult, especially for 3 months. But it’s hard to think of the name Moshe as not being someone of greatness, power, and leadership. For Moses’s gave it all that and more. Becoming Shemot – growing into a name - is more than just being given a name, but giving it meaning, life, an image, a personality. There is a poem that was passed along to me, dealing explicitly with this week’s portion and the ideas of Becoming (Shemot) by Rachel Barenblat;
BECOMING (SHEMOT)
But Moshe said to God
Who am I to go to Pharaoh?
And God said
I will be with you
I am becoming who I am becoming
it is time for you to do the same
everyone else walked right by
but you saw the miracle burning
Pick up your staff now
and make yourself ready
The journey ahead is long
and generations will comb their stories
to learn how you tied your shoes
and how to lead the people
with compassion and with vision
as you are about to do.
For me at this moment, I can relate to Moses the shepherd, being afraid of becoming. Most people have trouble with this concept. For me it’s more than just becoming myself, but living up to everything that I know I can do. I believe that we all had this problem at one point or another. For me it almost feels unrealistic, because I don’t like traveling into the unknown, and becoming all that I’m supposed to be, means taking a chance at blind faith and praying that it will all come out okay. It’s what we all seem to do everyday.
If this week's portion has anything to teach me about next week's journey, it's that it often begins with a parental push. It may have a destination that is foreign but friendly. It can define who I am and transform me so much that people may not remember I was ever anything else. And that Hashem isn't afraid to change, or of my changes so I shouldn't be either.
Shabbat Shalom
I was looking at this week's portion and the part that caught my eye is at the part where Moses’s mother puts him in a basket and places him in the Nile. Such blind faith seems unrealistic in today’s time. That a mother could believe that her child will make it without a mother’s protection is quite an extreme, especially for a baby. As Richard Friedman points out, she's betting that the same river where all the other Jewish babies are being drowned is somehow going to save hers. I initially thought that baby Moses was perfectly quiet during his journey – that Prince of Egypt thing again – but then I read the portion and found out he was weeping. But a midrash in the JPS Tanakh says he sounded like a toddler and not a baby, obviously Moses was not a normal child!
At this moment, I can relate on a very personal level to Moses situation – to be put into a small confined space, and rather loudly wonder where on earth you’re going and when you’re going to get there. You see, in 8 short days I will leave my home for Israel, my other home. As part of the Eisendrath International Exchange I will be spending the rest of this semester there. I will be getting into my own basket, placed there by my loving parents, and going down my own Nile. It is a river in which, right now, many mothers are losing their babies, but in which my parents (and I) feel I will discover my life. Who will open my basket I don’t know, but by my blind faith I will go on my own.
Another interesting midrash explores why pharaoh’s daughter reaches out for the basket. They say that she heard a cry for help and reached out towards it to help. A while back some archaeologists found some biblical scenes depicting pharaoh’s daughter reaching out with abnormally long arms to receive the basket. The rabbi’s go on to say that it means that one shouldn’t stop at any lengths to help another. The sages also say that the daughter of pharaoh was stricken with leprosy, so she went down to the River to bathe herself. As soon as she touched the basket, she was healed and because of this she took pity on Moses and loved him even more.
--------
Shemot means names, our names are one of the most important things in our life. They give us an identity. If I called anyone of you, “hey you!” instead of Mom, or Mrs. Shiloh, or Mr. Gabonea, it wouldn’t be the same. The meaning would be lost. Pharaoh's daughter explains that the name it is related to “mashah” or “draw out” since he was drawn out of the water. But Mashah also meant son of. The Egyptians used it to name their children and put one of their gods names in front of it – Ramaseh, Batmaseh and so on. Whether intentionally or not, Pharaoh's daughter named the baby “son of the nameless G-d” or Hashem. What is even more interesting is that for the first 3 months of Moses’s life, he has no name. Not in Torah or in Haftorah, we are not told of what he’s called before Pharaoh’s daughter names him. To begin in the world on such a journey but without anything to be called by seems quite difficult, especially for 3 months. But it’s hard to think of the name Moshe as not being someone of greatness, power, and leadership. For Moses’s gave it all that and more. Becoming Shemot – growing into a name - is more than just being given a name, but giving it meaning, life, an image, a personality. There is a poem that was passed along to me, dealing explicitly with this week’s portion and the ideas of Becoming (Shemot) by Rachel Barenblat;
BECOMING (SHEMOT)
But Moshe said to God
Who am I to go to Pharaoh?
And God said
I will be with you
I am becoming who I am becoming
it is time for you to do the same
everyone else walked right by
but you saw the miracle burning
Pick up your staff now
and make yourself ready
The journey ahead is long
and generations will comb their stories
to learn how you tied your shoes
and how to lead the people
with compassion and with vision
as you are about to do.
For me at this moment, I can relate to Moses the shepherd, being afraid of becoming. Most people have trouble with this concept. For me it’s more than just becoming myself, but living up to everything that I know I can do. I believe that we all had this problem at one point or another. For me it almost feels unrealistic, because I don’t like traveling into the unknown, and becoming all that I’m supposed to be, means taking a chance at blind faith and praying that it will all come out okay. It’s what we all seem to do everyday.
If this week's portion has anything to teach me about next week's journey, it's that it often begins with a parental push. It may have a destination that is foreign but friendly. It can define who I am and transform me so much that people may not remember I was ever anything else. And that Hashem isn't afraid to change, or of my changes so I shouldn't be either.
Shabbat Shalom
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