Halfway to somewhere

I am finally through with midterms so now I can relax a little and actually write a bit more on this blog; my last post was a little short.  In addition to celebrating the middle of the semester with the dreaded midterms, this week I eclipsed the halfway point of my stay here. In exactly three months, I will be heading to the airport, probably stuffing as many falafels down my throat as my stomach will allow on the way.  I've been here just over three months, but I still don’t feel like I've had enough time to do “everything”, whatever that may be.  I know when I return to the States I will still feel that I could've done more, seen more, and maybe eaten more, but that one is debatable.  I've been eating a lot, praise God.  And that was not sarcasm.

To make myself feel better, I will focus on what I will not miss:  using two cell phones, not having carpet, trying to roll over on a midget bed, fake pepperoni on pizza, not having an oven or microwave, no bacon, not having transportation on a Friday night or a Saturday, and pigeons on the window ledge planning my demise.  Well, they look like they’re up to something. 

Now that I finished my Islam midterm and today my Hebrew midterm, I can spend tomorrow on a blanket on the lawn, roasting in the 90+ degree weather.  Doing nothing is becoming something I appreciate more and more.  Unfortunately, it makes me feel lacking in the blogging department.  But there are some things I have yet to write about.  One is experiencing Israel’s Independence Day (I may have forgotten to write about it).  Before the celebrations begin however, it is preceded the day before (at sunset and lasts until the following evening at sunset) by Yom HaZikaron, the Israeli Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terrorism Remembrance Day.  It is a very somber day, and as far as I could tell, most people take it seriously.  If anyone knows how to mourn and do it with the utmost respect, it’s Israelis and Jews across the world; they have had much to mourn for.   

On April 15, while America was probably flooding post offices across the country to mail their taxes at the last minute, I was honored to spend this particular evening with some friends at the Western (Wailing) Wall.  There were soldiers of various branches and ranks present (one of which was Israel Defense Forces Chief of Staff Benjamin (Benny) Gantz), even those visiting from different countries, United States included.  We were surrounded by a lot of security—snipers in groups of three standing watch on the two minarets near the plaza, other officers heavily armed walking along the tops of the walls, and I couldn't tell you how many well-dressed agents with ear buds I saw filtering through our midst.  Needless to say, I felt safe.  To my right, across from the metal barrier I was leaning against, was a white tent, heavily guarded.  My friend Mark and I concluded someone of importance was waiting inside.  After the siren sounded and the ceremony began, we realized we were right; Israel’s President Shimon Peres walked out and onto the platform, where the Israeli flag had been lowered to half mast, and next to it was a torch, which he lit.  He then gave a speech (in Hebrew, of course), followed by a speech by Mr. Gantz, and then someone, I assume a rabbi, sang a prayer…wow, it was amazing.  Then the ceremony was concluded with us singing Israel’s national anthem.  I don’t know all the words, but I am learning.

Snipers; this minaret (where Muslim prayers are blasted from 5 times a day) is next to the Dome of the Rock

Snipers on second minaret, located on the Temple Mount on the opposite side of the Dome

Visiting officer

Crowd waiting for the ceremony to start

One of many ear buds

So this looks a little creepy, but he was looking right at me, so I included it

Flag at half mast, unlit torch to its left

President Peres lighting the torch

 The following morning while I was studying, the sirens went off to remind the country of those who have fallen.  I couldn't help but stand in silence, and as I looked out from my 7^th story window, I could see others doing the same.  That night at sunset, the celebrating began.  Israel had turned 65 years old. Let me recap quickly: since arriving in January, I have had the privilege of celebrating Passover, Easter,  Israel's Independence Day, Holocaust Memorial Day, and in a few weeks Pentecost, in Jerusalem.  Somebody pinch me.

Once again, two nights ago (Saturday night), more rockets were fired from Gaza into southern Israel as people were celebrating Lag Ba’omer in the traditional manner with bonfires.  The next day (yesterday), Israel finally answered back with an air strike of their own, successfully hitting a terrorist facility and an arms depot.  Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said “I want to make clear we will not tolerate a ‘drizzle’ policy.  A ‘drizzle’ of rockets or missiles will be met by a very aggressive reaction, and we will take all necessary action to defend our citizens.”  Is it weird that when I read about rockets landing in places that really aren't that far away, it doesn't even phase me anymore?  It's like reading about a shooting in America.  It's crazy what you grow accustomed to...it shouldn't be that way, but it is.

Lila tov. (Goodnight)