One Year Later

Today was rough.
I'm not sure tomorrow will be much easier, either.
It's been exactly one year - a whole three hundred and sixty five days since Aviv 2011 departed JFK for Israel. Looking back, it's kind of hard to believe we did it. I've mentioned to many of my friends that I simply packed up and left for the Middle East for my sophomore spring, and many of them have trouble understanding it. "What? A semester abroad? For high school students? Woah, that's cool...did you eat a lot of hummus?" Other than that, few actually understand the magnitude of the most incredible four months of my life. It's hard to explain the stories of friends wandering to neighboring Arab villages or bargaining in the Shuk or even the songs that made us laugh and cry to those who can't even envision such situations. I've told EIE stories time and time again and received perplexed looks from my closest friends, to which I respond with, "You just had to be there." But you know what?
Thank goodness they weren't there.
Thank goodness I had the opportunity to step out of my niche and fill a new role in an amazing community. Thank goodness I was able to meet and connect with so many incredible individuals that I know are going to go so far in their lives. And, especially, thank goodness I was able to separate myself from my home community and spend an incredible semester not only discovering Israel, but discovering myself in the process. I spoke with a fellow Aviv-er today as I was emotionally distraught over some of my EIE decisions. With pieces of regret conquering my state, she responded to my distress:
"You know, it's never too late to fix what you've done wrong. I realized what a link EIE has created between all of us, even with those you weren't particularly close with. The bond between us isn't something that can be broken by some obnoxious comment or silly mistake. We're like family. You can always forgive your family."
Family - one big, happy, mishpachah. Couldn't have described it better myself.
So, dear family - thanks again for the greatest semester ever and for getting me through the remainder of this year. I'm so thankful for all you've taught me and it's a damn shame that nobody I know will understand how much you mean to me. Hope I see you all soon...one year reunion?
Much love and כל הכבוד to y'all
ʌıʌɐʌıʌ - Long Live our Spring!

End of a Journey

I've been home about five or six days now and let me tell you, I've missed a few things from my everyday American life. My room, my bed, my friends and teachers - but there's definitely something missing. Being home isn't like Tzuba - I can't hop over a balcony or two to hangout with some of my closest friends right next door. I can't do my homework in the Belmont lobby overlooking the Judean Hills (instead I overlook my neighbors' backyard). I can't share the same inside jokes or have the same conversations like the ones I had the privilege of sharing with eighty one other teens from across the country. I no longer live in the Jewish homeland that for years I used to adore from afar.
My heart is in the East,
And I am in the utmost West.
It has been a spectacular four months of growth, understanding, jokes, and connections. I've made some stupid mistakes that I've done my best to learn from but I've also made memories from places, people, and experiences I would have never had the opportunity to make if it hadn't been for EIE. I have recognized who I am as a person and as a Jew and I could not be more thankful for the friends - no, the family that I have made and that has helped me along this journey. I just hope I could've helped them in return. I want to express my dearest thanks to all the teachers who kept me on track with mh studies and opened my eyes to new things, both related and unrelated to Judaism alike. Your knowledge is unmeasurable and your teaching abilities really kept me interested for all four months. To all of the staff - I know eighty two teens are not easy to handle (hell, I know I can't even handle myself sometimes). But you all did everything in your power to make sure we were having fun and staying safe. You truly made the spring semester unforgettable and I know each and every one of us chanichim are indebted to you greatly.
People change over time. It's a given fact. Whether it be in a matter of seconds or a few decades - well that depends on their place and their surrounding people. I changed in Israel - I became a new person molded by my Jewish faith and my supportive peers. I lived the culture of Israel and felt the pride of a nation coursing through my veins.  Four months later, I find myself as a "new Jew" (to use some Jewish History context), shaped by my Israel experience and my journey in the Jewish homeland. I personally believe that a similar change has happened in all eighty two of us and will continue to happen to those yet to come on this EIE adventure.
עלו וראיתם את הארץ מה הוא ואת העם הישב עליה
Go up and see the land and the people who dwell upon it.
Go - I dare you - and you will come back as a person stronger, smarter, and happier than before.
VIVA AVIV 2011 - Long live the spring that changed our lives.

Crunch Time

School's out for summer here at Tzuba. We have many taking their AP Exams, studying for finals in the next few days, finishing papers and sending them in. It's weird to think we'll all be done with school here, but it's weirder to think of the plane ride home. Four months has flown by like no other. I have experienced the many different sides of Israel while being here and I will forever look at this state in a different but supportive way. In a land ridden with conflict, there is so much to learn and experience - the people you can converse with at a Yom Ha'atzmaut dance party in Jerusalem, the food you can try in a neighboring Arab village, the sights you can see as you weave your way through the Judean Hills with your destination set at the always-lively city of Tel Aviv, a symbol of old and new alike. If there's one thing I've learned in all my months of Jewish History (took that final yesterday), it's the Jews' concept of "collective memory." Nothing goes forgotten in Jewish history. From the beginning when Abraham began to wander Canaan all the way to the current time period, our collective memory has shaped the Jewish people and the state of Israel into what we are today. It reminds us of what Jews have been through and how we have survived for thousands of years against many different adversaries to finally posses our own Jewish state and be proud of our Jewish identities. After my EIE experience, I am more than proud of my Jewish identity. I am extremely filled with a sense of responsibility and even a sense of strength to be a Jew. These past four months have been life changing at the least. I'm very happy I got to share my experiences through this blog, but every person on this trip has many more experiences and I'm sure they would love to share.
Just to update you about what we have done the past few weeks:
- School
- the Yoms: Yom HaShoah, the Holocaust day of remembrance in Israel, where we listened to the two-minute-long siren and relived memories from Poland. One week later, it was Yom Hazikaron, the day of remembrance of the fallen soldiers in the IDF. The night before the Yom, we travelled to the Kotel for the national ceremony in honor of these fallen soldiers. There, we heard the President of Israel, Shimon Perez, speak about how many years ago, at the site we were standing on, the paratroopers of the IDF landed and successfully taken over Jerusalem during the Six Day War of 1967. He spoke of their determination and the courage they possessed, just as the fallen soldiers we remember had been the same. After a bone-chilling, emotional singing of Hatikva, we returned back to Tzuba. The next day, in our Jewish History classes, we visited the kibbutz's cemetery, where members of the Israeli independence group palmach were buried, along with two fallen Golani soldiers that grew up on Tzuba. Each year, the kibbutz holds a ceremony for these two soldiers, filled with music and kind words about them. This day was as quiet as the coming night would be loud. In Israel, there is a major transition at the end of Yom Hazikaron into Yom Ha'atzmaut, the day of Israel's independence. We attended (and danced in) Tzuba's transition ceremony, but then were surprised with a special treat - we were going to Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem for the night to have some fun. Dressed up in blue and white everything, we paraded through the flooded street of Israelis to a dance party not too far away. It was definitely one of my most memorable experiences, seeing everyone transition from mourning to intense joy and just having a ton of fun. It made me feel right at home with Israeli culture; now I really understood the importance of a Jewish homeland and that it needs to be celebrated each year.
As things start winding down on Tzuba, we're frantically working to make it the best ending a semester like this can have. We have groups working on designing t-shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, and more, while other groups are working on skits for the final banquet or putting together a yearbook for us to relive our memories in. More to come in my last blog post, but again, thank you all for reading. I'm glad I could share my stories with all of you and I'll have much more to tell when I get back...but that's not for another week or so - don't rush me.

The "Spring Break" Experience - Gadna, Pesach, Yam l'Yam

Sorry for the late post; there’s been a lot going on since we got back from our two-week vacation (I’m not sure you could call it a ‘vacation,’ but it was definitely a story-filled two weeks). Since we left Tzuba, what feels like years ago, us EIErs have been all over – from the army base of G’oara, all the way down south to Eilat, and all the way up north atop Mount Meron. As we traveled, we grew closer together, as we ran after our mifakdot in the fields, relaxed on the beach, and hiked across the country.

First on our list of excursions came Gadna. Here, we spent a week learning the ways of the army – the hierarchy of commanders, the tactics necessary in the battlefield, as well as the mechanics of how to fire a M16. When we reached G’oara, we were split into our specific tzevetim; little groups that we would have to work with for the entire week. Each tzevet had a mifakedet, or commander, that would order us to run, clean, and stand in formation. Everything we did was determined by the mifakedet, and if we talked in formation or fidgeted in place, we were ordered to do push ups. Just another classic week in the army, of course. I really enjoyed this experience for two main reasons. First off, before we left, we had just begun to learn about the aliyot to Israel and the establishment of a Jewish state in Israel in 1948. At the time of independence, five or so Arab armies had prepared themselves to invade Israel, so the Israeli defense movements had to put aside their differences to form Tzahal, literally “the army for the defense of Israel.” To spend a week in that same army more than sixty years later really hit me – the importance to defend this state was not just to defend Israel, but more to defend the Jewish state of Israel. That statement made me proud to get just a taste of what has kept this state alive for more than half a century. The other aspect of the army that I really enjoyed was the importance of teamwork. As we learned in our tzevet, the members of your group are more than just teammates; they’re your siblings. If one of our members doesn’t finish the task at hand, then you all haven’t completed it. Everyone has to care for each other and there are no exceptions. As the week went on, each one of the members of my tzevet, myself included, began to come closer with eachother. We all joked and relaxed when we could, but when it came time to act serious, we worked together like clockwork, determined to finish the task to its fullest ability with every member doing what they could. By the final night, each tzevet had become a tightly knit group of hard-working soldiers. Gadna was an experience that definitely jogged my mind with the question of returning to Israel at a later age and joining the army for real. At this point in time, who knows? Anything could happen in the next few years to change my mind either in favor or not.

After a long, hard week of army training, it was time to relax. We dragged our bags onto the buses and boarded, all looking forward to the six-hour nap on the way to Eilat. Sure enough, we awoke, groggy, to the sight of the Eilat Mountains on our right and the Red Sea on our left. We rushed off the buses into the Youth Hostel, desperate for a good shower and a nice bed. As our madrichim told us, the next few days were solely for relaxation. We spent hours on the beach, soaking up the sun, swimming in the sea, or snorkeling with the fishes. We wandered the boardwalk, shopping for t-shirts and bracelets, drinking icees the entire way. After a restful Shabbat, we packed up again and drove not too far away to a local Bedouin tent. Here, we devoured a typical Bedouin meal, equipped with delicious tea before and after. We did some desert stargazing, but most importantly (in my opinion), we had the full Bedouin camel experience. Now, camels are not the nicest of animals, but they sure are fun to ride around atop. I can see why people have been doing it for centuries. After spending our night in the Bedouin tent, Pesach had come around (regardless, we had been eating matzah for a few days now). Most of us EIErs piled onto the buses, headed for their host homes, but I was lucky enough to get picked up by my family. It was nice to spend a few days in the beautiful city of Tel Aviv, especially with my family. To Mom, Dad, and Samantha – thanks so much for coming out to visit. It was really nice to spend time with the ones that I love in the land that I love. I’ll see you guys in a month or so, but until then, don’t rent out my room to any strangers.

After the two-day hiatus from EIE, we all gathered at specific stops where we picked up by our buses and driven north to the edge of the Kineret, a.k.a. the Sea of Galilee. Here, we were broken up into three different groups, assigned to different nature guides. This was the start of our four-day excursion across the country from sea to sea – Yam l’Yam. We began by wading in a river that led to the Kineret, slipping over some stones and plunging accidentally into the water. At the end of our hike, I was the one chosen to be responsible for a bottle of Kineret water that we would ‘release’ into the Mediterranean Sea at the other end of the trip. After this water hike, we grabbed clean clothes from the buses, got back on, and drove to our campsite for the night. Here, we split up into tents of our choice, moved our sleeping bags into them, and then went to go prepare and eat dinner. A typical dinner on a Yam l’Yam night would consist of a vegetable soup mixture and then a meat course (unless you’re vegetarian) with the same usual side dishes of Israeli salad or pickles. Lunch meals were usually more fun on this trip mostly because we got to cook them. During the first night, our nature guides gave us backpacks and supplies that we would need throughout the course of the trip for cooking during the day. Fully equipped with our gas burners, our pots and kettles, our rice, and our matzah, we were able to make delicious, hearty meals for each lunch. We continued our hiking – first up Mount Meron, but as the weather began to turn against us, we took our bus to another campsite decently westward on our trail. There, we spent the evening enjoying a beautiful sunset over the Med Sea as well as some ‘nature appreciating’ before the rains began to pour down. The next morning, as all mornings went on Yam l’Yam, we woke up sore and uncomfortable but yet continued to hike. We trudged through a river or two until we reached the peak of Mont Fort, a German crusader tower that overlooked all the hills surrounding it. As we climbed back down the mount, Shabbat was just on its way in, so we hurried back to the campsite to enjoy services and an oncoming day of rest. Saturday we walked back down into the valley surrounding the mount but this time, we paid a visit to a quiet spring, where we ate lunch and swam for a relaxing few hours. We returned to the campsite not long before dinner and not short after did we pass out in our tents. The next day was, in my opinion, the most fun and probably the easiest. Our nature guides presented us all with mountain bikes, and we were all prepared to coast easily downhill towards the Mediterranean Sea and to the beach waiting for us. In what seemed like no time, all eighty-one of us were standing on the beach, swimming and splashing, some making sand castles, most just sunbathing. I triumphantly took my Kineret bottle and dumped it into the sea, feeling a new sense of accomplishment.

But the fun doesn’t stop there. To make things even better, EIE had decided to let us stay 2^nd chag (end of Pesach) in Haifa. Now, to anyone who is reading this regardless if you have been to Israel or not, you must go to Haifa. It is hands down the most beautiful city I have ever experienced. After spending the night in the Mount Karmel Youth Hostel, we piled back onto the buses (man, gotta love those buses) and took a trip to the Bahai Temple. We stood at the top of the gardens looking down at the temple, the city, and the mountains surrounding the greater Haifa area. It was probably one of the most breathtaking sights I’ve ever seen. Afterwards, we wandered around the German colony at the base of the Bahai Gardens, where we found some good food and some better ice cream. We then got back on the buses, returned to the youth hostel, packed up, and went home – to Tzuba, of course. We received our new rooms and roommates (currently I have the pleasure of rooming with Ben from Cali, Noah from Cali, and Dean from Haifa), moved in, and passed out as soon as possible, not ready to wake up for school the next day.

As most of you loyal readers know, this month marks the last one in the EIE Spring 2011 experience. So far, I have no regrets. I don’t regret deciding to come to Israel for a semester; I don’t regret making any of the friends that I’ve made; I don’t regret any of the places I’ve been, the things that I’ve done, the sights that I’ve seen, or especially the foods that I’ve tried. This experience has been life changing – I’ve definitely matured into a new, better person and I’m one hundred percent sure I could say the same about every member of this EIE class. But I’m not gonna say anything just yet; wait about four more weeks.

מסע לפולין - Poland Pilgrimage

Describing the journey I have just taken as an experience would definitely be an understatement. EIE's Pilgrimage to Poland has been an emotional roller-coaster, with the exhilarating turns; the high points of European Jewry and the flourishing Jewish families of Polish society; all countered by the loop-de-loops and sharp, sudden drops of Nazi regime, failed Jewish rebellion, and the mass graves of Tikochin, Maidaneck, and Auschwitz-Birkenau. I was left speechless, breathless, numb - stunned by every sight and fact as I walked among the places where Jews faced discrimination, extermination, and hatred; a hatred I hope to never witness ever again for the rest of my days.
Our trip was based on two concepts - life and death. We witnessed and discussed the remnants of Polish Jewry: the synagogues of Krakow and Kazimierz, the Jewish quarter of the magical Lublin, and the memorial walk dedicated to Jews of the Warsaw ghetto who fought against the Nazi murderers, determined to continue their Judaism regardless of anything their opposers said. We learned of the Iberleben; the forms of resistance Jews used to fight the Nazis literally and figuratively. To think something so trivial and usual as remembering your name could be so powerful against those that forced you to lack a persona and an identity - this thought hit me the hardest. The inhumanity of the Nazis to treat not only Jews but also Poles, Soviets, gypsies, and infirm as animals; as someone or something subhuman - it didn't seem real before.
But it became real. It was real. It was like something out of this world. Something I could never imagine - a group treating another as nothing.
Our visits to Maidaneck and Auschwitz will forever be burnt in my mind as horrible factory-like camps that killed millions and millions of Jews and others through the vile, sick, nightmare ways of random executions and gas chambers. To sit in front of the collected ashes where victims of these terrible places were dumped, not buried, after their improper sped-up cremations angered me to the point of numbness.
I want to share one thought that came to me as I departed Birkenau, fists clenched but body numb. As I made my way past the train tracks, I remembered how thousands of Jews went through the selection process in the exact spot I stood. There, SS officers decided who shall "live" and work for the time being and who shall be immediately stripped of their clothes and belongings, sent to the gas chambers and turned into piles of ashes. I was reminded of a quote from the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services that we say each year: "On Rosh Hashanah [the Book of Life] is written, on Yom Kippur it is sealed." This of course refers to God, but where was such a god at a time like the Shoah? What gave the Nazis the right or the power to decide the fate of millions and millions of people? How come for those victims, it was written as they boarded the trains from Hungary, Poland, and Austria, while it was sealed as they were herded into the gas chambers, as if they were animals?
Why does something so terrible as this happen?
How does this even become a possibility in society?
How can someone be treated as nothing, as a worthless piece of flesh?
How! Why!
Questions continue to run my mind ragged. At this point, my strongest answers come from what I've witnessed. I will never forget what I have seen on this pilgrimage and I will make sure to keep the lives of the six million who perished forever in my heart and in my mind. This can never happen again. I insist that every single Jew of ability visit Poland to witness the horror and to ensure that it will never, ever happen again, but more importantly to make sure that we never forget this horrid event.
לזכור ולא לשכוח
To remember and not to forget.

Hey, Dad

(sorry for not being so up to date, a lot goes on here and I can’t always find the time to blog)

Another week on Tzuba has come and gone and I am very grateful for the needed Shabbat sleep. A few regular days, two tiyulim, long nights of working on my papers for Regional Board elections, and a very special guest – quite the weekend to describe, but I’ll give it a shot.

First, the tiyulim. This week we started to learn about Jewish oral law, how it came to be, and how it slowly became written down in works like the Mishnah and the Talmud after being memorized for years by the Tana’im (those whose role was solely to memorize what the rabbis and sages would discuss in the Sanhedrin and in other beitim midrashim.) As we travelled up north to Beit Sha’arim, we learned about how the Sanhedrin moved from Yavne up north to here and its nasi – its leader – Rabbi Yehudah haNasi. Rabbi Yehudah is most well known for his big transition from oral law to the written Mishnah, after he compiled many different arguments and even put some of his own opinions in to create Halachah – what is known as Jewish law. At Beit Sha’arim, we explored the tomb caves where many had been buried and the coffins they had been buried in. These coffins differed in their artistic designs – some had kosher art, consisting of just geometric shapes, but others were definitely unkosher, picturing animals and humans. This became a looming question to our tiyul – why the transition to unkosher art? After Beit Sha’arim, we travelled to Sakhne, a spring that always stays 28 degrees Celcius – possibly the most beautiful site we’ve visited so far. There, we swam and had a gourmet pizza lunch which was definitely a step up from kibbutz food. As lunch came to a close, we changed out of our swim suits and piled on to our buses, headed for Beit Alfa, home of a famous ancient synagogue with an unusually detailed mosaic floor. We took a good, detailed look of what the floor had depicted – the lower third showing the binding of Isaac, the middle third depicting a zodiac with the Greek god Helios in the middle, and the top third depicting the Beit Mikdash surrounded by menorahs and shofars. Hang on – Greek god? Zodiac? That’s gotta be considered unkosher art. We then exited the synagogue and had a very long discussion concerning the Halachah mentioned in the Mishnah about unkosher art and the new limits the rabbis of this time period had established for the Jews. I found it very interesting to see the transition from no unkosher art at all to some unkosher art being allowed in places such as burial sites and synagogues. This definitely symbolized some sort of assimilation for Jews living in the time period of the Mishnah.

Our other tiyul was an experience not many would be able to have. After learning about the beginning of Islam and the 5 basic pillars of this religion, we traveled to En Rafa, home of a nearby mosque where we had the pleasure of interviewing an imam – the leader of prayer at the mosque, just like a rabbi at a synagogue or a priest at a church. It was interesting to discuss the five pillars of Islam and their importance as well as the questions we asked about the relationships between Islam, Judaism, and Christianity and the relationship between Islam and terrorism. Although I wish we had more time to have these questions answered in greater depth, the experience at the mosque was definitely thought provoking – it made me question why the conflict of religions was so violent and arrogant when we have overlapping histories and prophets. Not only did this tiyul feed my mind with questions, but also my stomach – we travelled to Abu Ghosh and gulped down possibly the best lunch I’ve had yet: hummus, pita, falafel, and the necessary veggies that came with it (if you’ve never been to Abu Ghosh, it is definitely the best hummus you will ever experience).

However, this past week had one big difference – Dad was here since Tuesday. Perfect timing too – we were just making the transition from Mishnah to Talmud, something my dad specializes in teaching. On Wednesday morning, I had the pleasure of listening to my own father teach my friends and I about the Talmud Yerushalmi and the Talmud Bavli, both which contain much commentary and have much importance when it comes to Halacha and living Jewish-ly at that time period and for years to come. It was definitely different to be taught by my own dad, but hey, now I can grade his students’ papers ‘cause I’ve got some experience in the class!

After a few days of good meals (Dad took me out each night for dinner…a huge plus – I hate kibbutz food), a father-son Shabbat seemed very appropriate for this visit. Friday night we travelled to Modi’in, a city to the west of Tzuba (also where the Hasmoneans first started their rebellion, later on known as the Hanukkah story – heard of it?). There we met up with my dad’s friend, Natan, and walked from his apartment to shul. After an all-Hebrew service came dinner, delicious as always, followed by a sit down song/jam session with Natan and his daughter Noam. I love being able to play a guitar in Israel – not only do the people who listen to you know the tune and/or the words to “Jewish” songs you can play, but every now and then a Katy Perry or Oasis song can get them to sing along too, especially the Israelis.

Saturday was a different story. After finally finishing up my NFTY Elections video (running for WFMVP of NFTY NAR for the upcoming year…elections are on Sunday!), Dad and I threw on our sneaks and hopped in the car headed for Tel Aviv. One long nap later, we were parked right off of Dizengoff, one of Tel Aviv’s most famous streets for shopping and especially for food. (Fun Fact: Israelis actually have a verb for wandering down Dizengoff Street, להזדנגף). We got lunch at a nearby café and then continued to wander aimlessly through Tel Aviv. Most, if not all stores were closed – another thing I love about Israel: on Shabbat, it’s as if the entire country shuts down for a day; nothing’s open, nobody works – it’s peaceful and beautiful. Dad and I took a nice walk along the beach and port area, browsing in a few shops and listening for the glimpses of English in sea of Hebrew speakers. As the sun set, we wandered back towards Dizengoff, grabbed some good Italian food for dinner, then drove back to the Kibbutz. Quite the relaxing weekend and boy did it feel nice to finally take a break from a regular kibbutz Shabbat. I really hope I can go back to Tel Aviv soon, hopefully with all my friends here.

Other than that, all’s good as usual. General Studies are studying and we’re all having loads of fun. Parents just showed up today, so I’m hoping to get adopted for the week by a nice Jewish family. Oh, and on a more personal note – Dad, thanks so much for coming out just to visit me. It really means a lot and I’m glad I got to see you before the other parents came to visit. I love you to death and I’ll see you in April!

And to all you other readers – hope you’re enjoying this blog; it’s a lot of work to keep up to date but I think it’s pretty worth it.

Just Another Week on Tzuba

שבת שלום, חברים. Nothing too interesting going on.
We had a few tiyulim this week - one to the caves used in the Bar Kochva revolt, the second big revolt in Jewish history during the time of Roman rule. Our guide, Yael (also our teacher for Tuesdays since Yair is taking classes) told us about the different tactics the rebels used in fighting against Roman soldiers and finally their defeat, as they were smoked out of the caves and massacred in 135 CE. Comparing this with the Great Revolt of 66-70 CE, it was clear to me that the Jewish people of the Second Temple era did not like Roman rule or influence one bit. But how come the stories of revolts weren't told for generations to come? This was a major class discussion - in order to prevent further bloodshed, stories of revolts and rebellions were suppressed and other stories of miracles (like Hanukkah) and other God-like occasions were brought up to support the faith in the Jewish religion. The revolt stories only really came out during the Zionist era to back the idea that the Jews deserved their own state and that they should fight for it until they reach their ultimate goal, just like those fighting in the revolts of many centuries before. (Really glad we talked about this - not only was it interesting, but it was relevant for my JHist essay on the latest exam)
The other tiyul was to En Kerem, in the Christian quarter of Jerusalem. There we talked about the beginning of Christianity - the birth of Jesus, his relationship with John the Baptist (En Kerem was John's birthplace), Jesus's disciples and the spread of Christianity throughout the Roman Empire. We also touched on the various values of Christianity and how it relates or differs from Judaism. When we discussed the "withered stump" theory and the witness theory, I was sort of angered at the view Christianity had put on the Jews. To call Judaism the "withered branches" of the tree of Christianity didn't seem fair. I hate discussing hatred between religions - we all have some common lineage, we all recognize this lineage, but yet still feel the need to express our animosity just because our views don't exactly coincide with eachother. It bothers me a lot at times, but don't get me wrong, I love to learn about other religions and their values no matter how different they are from mine.
Other than these two tiyulim, it's been a pretty regular week. We had our second JHist test - this one on the Second Temple period - which I think went pretty well but we'll see how things go. Hebrew is getting better; I'm starting to understand words and phrases a lot quicker than before. GStudies are going fine - I now have to do Chemistry labs and a separate Trig class on Friday mornings, but I'm not complaining. All is well, feeling a lot better, hoping to do Havdalah atop Tel Tzuba tonight. Much more to come soon.