A "dust-storm" has settled over Jerusalem today, an occurrence not so surprising considering that deserts surround the Middle East. Though Jerusalem is in the mountains, and desert-free, the air still finds itself heavy at times. It is more than recognizable: the sky is grey, the air is grainy, your nose burns if huffing and puffing up the hills. Don't think that it is like a real dust-storm you see in movies, but rather it's more like the haze of Los Angeles. Either way, it's one of the least pleasant aspects of the area.

It's fitting that today the air is heavy, because I'm feeling a bit heavy myself. I went to charge up my laptop today, my only real connection to the outside world, and found that somehow a metal strip inside the computer's charging port became dislodged. I tried for over an hour to put it back in it's place. I didn't force it. Then I tried to put the cable in again, to no avail. Then I forced it. Stupid. I wouldn't have been able to fix it anyway, but forcing something in where it just won't go in only does more damage.

Now I need to figure out how you ship a box from this country to America, for my parents to get the computer fixed. No one works with Macs here, generally, so I have to ship it off. I bet the shipping will be $50 or more. I don't even know where to find a box!

This is really stressing me out: it has all my unbacked up music, thankfully backed up pictures, personal documents including my resume (which I planned on sending out in the next few days, potentially, to some English speaking companies), and so one. I have been trying to tell myself that "it's all cornflakes," but it feels pretty serious to be without your computer! Especially if you're a computer nerd like me.

I'm at an internet cafe right now. The rates are pretty cheap, but I can't afford to do this too often. So, I hope I can post to my blog every once in a while, either by borrowing someone's at the yeshiva or coming here.

"It's all just cornflakes!"

This yeshiva I go to is one that especially attempts to reach out to Jews that aren’t really even sure what Judaism is. They take in all types of characters. The hippie that obviously did too many drugs. The ex-bouncer covered in tattoos (a no-no in Judaism). A former heroin addict who built his own house in Jamaica on someone’s farm. All these are true stories, people I know well. There are also many normal people, guys that had good jobs that just got fed up, or guys in college that want to learn a little more during the summer, and so on. But one story I was told last night was really interesting. Not as interesting as my buddy the ex-junkie, but still worth a blog post.

The head guy of the apartment they put me in is very religious. He wears black and white, a black hat, and you can just tell he is very serious. I also thought he was older, maybe 23 or 24. Our conversation:

“How old are you?”
“20. I’ve been here for a little more than a year”
“20… So you didn’t go to college, right?”
“Nope. I just didn’t think it was for me. I didn’t want to get pushed along. I felt that everyone going to college was going because they had to, they were being pushed to do it, to get a job, to do that whole thing.”
“So what’d you do?”
“When I graduated from high school I ran off to the circus and traveled the country with them for 6 months.”
“….,” trying to not be too gullible, “…really?”
“Yup. I joined P.T. Barnum. I took care of the animals, like horses and zebras, sometimes elephants.”
“Interesting. And did they pay a lot?”
“Relatively. You don’t spend much because you live on the train. P.T. Barnum has the biggest train in North America. It’s like a mile and a half long. You have your own room on the train, basically a cage. You have a bed and a mini-fridge, and that’s it.”
“So why’d you give it all up?”
“Um, I was LIVING ON A TRAIN.”

For all the kids out there: Graduate high-school, maybe give college a try. Joining the circus isn’t the route, even if it sounds cool.

Bar Refaeli, the Israeli “supermodel” who is dating Leonardo Dicaprio, is just another punk of the material world that has no respect for the greater purposes in life. She is something of a trophy in this country, however, simply because the world is recognizing an Israeli. Guys all across America and the greater women-appreciating universe oogled over her Sports Illustrated pictures…but I just see her as a punk.

An interview by Yediot Ahronot with Refaeli brought out the worst in this ‘celebrity.’ Israel has a mandatory draft, whereby even women serve 2 years starting as they are 18. Everyone does this, except for the most ultra-orthodox and the conscientious objector (read: delusional). Serving in the army here is like going to school in America – it’s just something you do. If you don’t do it, for whatever reason, you aren’t really respected. I really mean that. If you dodge your draft, you are considered a deserter of your nation, a traitor, a mooch off the blood and sweat of others. Draft-dodgers have the mindset that it is their single plight to serve, that only they suffer the hardship of giving up 2-3 years of your life, the potential to die, the fear inherent in releasing all personal sovereignty.

Rafaeli dodged the army by marrying a friend, thereby exempting herself from service. So what did she have to say about deserting her countrymen?

“I don’t regret not having been drafted into the army, because I made out big.”
“Why is it good to die for one’s country, isn’t it better to live in New York?”

I wish I could get hold of the full interview, because I’m sure there’s much, much more. But, let me breakdown Bar’s ignorance for you. First of all, as a girl she is basically guaranteed to not serve in a combat unit. Rather, if she is smart (which I doubt) she would be in some intelligence unit, if she is dumb (probably) she’d be in some type of military police unit, and if she is of average intelligence she’d have some random desk or office job. It’s not too much to ask, Bar, to serve in a non-life threatening position in the same manner that your family, your friends, and your countrymen have done to protect your assaulted homeland. What if we all thought like you? Do you really think that everyone else is so gung-ho about the army? What about the guys and the few girls that are in real combat units? Think they should dodge, or are you more important, and are your goals more important?

Secondly, is it better for an Israeli to leave Israel and live in New York? She also announced that she is moving, I’m supposing permanently, to Los Angeles. Listen, I’m also an American, and I love America. It’s truly the most comfortable place on earth. But, for an Israeli, considering how much this country needs successful and world-renowned individuals to boost the consensus that Israel is a ‘good place,’ is it truly better for one to move to New York or LA? In my opinion, it isn’t, simply because Israel NEEDS people like Bar Refaeli. Not that we need supermodels, but we need the boost in positive attitudes that typically only cultural icons can bring. Imagine if Bar Refaeli had served in the army, and in this interview or one with a western paper had declared her pride for Israel, her pride in her people, and that Israel is a good place to be. Imagine!

Rather, she chose to be a “proud” draft-dodger. I have no respect for her…and to be 100% honest, and I swear that I even thought this before I knew she deserted Israel, I don’t think she is nearly as good looking as girls I see here every day! I’ve thought that since I first saw her.

Especially now that you know what type of person she is, compare the first picture of her (a superficial money-grabber) with the second picture of real Israeli girls (sitting on the beach, drinking a beer, with their M16s nearby -- idyllic).

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2007/10/02/shubert.mideast.pilgrims.mission.cnn

I was talking about the parade of foreigners in festive gear, waving flags and sporting their countries on their shirts. Well, apparently they were evangelical Christians here to support Israel, specifically during our holiday of Succot. I'm not so sure how I feel about the whole evangelical Christian support for Israel, considering that they believe we are here to fulfill the message of Jesus...

On the other hand these Christians do support Jews living in the land, and they are just about as strong on the issue of Israeli sovereignty over the land as anyone else. That means they don't believe in giving away land to anyone, for any reason. However, someone once said to me: we need to be careful of our bed-fellows.

I'm a Good Friend - More Tourists & Pilgrims in Israel

Today was certainly a full and eventful day. Waking up with a slight sugar-hangover from the 10 brownies I ate at a party last night at the yeshiva, I had a healthy breakfast and then checked my email, and while doing so I got a phone call from a girl I met on my flight. It started out very promising:

“Hey Danny. How would you feel about making some money?”
“I’d feel great about making some money. What’s the job?”
“Moving a bed and frame. It’s about a 10 minute walk from my apartment.”
“No problem! It’ll take me half an hour.”

Yeah right. After I waited about an hour at the bank just to receive my ATM-withdrawal card (read: ATM, not debit, a concept that hasn’t reached the Israeli shores, besides the combination Visa credit-debit scheme to put people in debt), waiting mainly for a very animated guy to stop yelling at each and every clerk over something I couldn’t figure out, I finally made my way to the #18 bus stop. I took this bus every day, twice a day, for a whole summer, so I knew where to go…only they changed the stops for it.

So after making the 20 minute hike to Emek Refaim, probably the nicest and most expensive area of Jerusalem (it really is heavenly there), I finally met up with my friend. I should have known the day was going to be drawn out. We walked to the apartment where the mattress was held, and as she was told the mattress and frame were waiting for us on the balcony. It was on the first floor. No one was home. The problem was that the balcony was about 7 feet off the ground.

So after I found a chair and jumped onto the balcony, I had to figure out how to hand a queen size bed and fully wooden frame to a 130 some pound girl. A deep apology goes out to the landscaper and his bushes. We decided that we would have to make two trips, after I really thought long and hard how I could carry both the frame and mattress together. So, as I’ve done before, I hoisted the mattress onto my back and started walking. I planned ahead: I wore shorts instead of jeans.

So, imagine a 6’4 guy carrying a queen sized mattress down a posh Jerusalem street that not only houses where I had my internship at a political think-tank, but also the Greek consulate, and a slew of other beautiful homes. Now remember that this thing is on my back, with a 5’4 girl pushing it from behind to make sure it didn’t fall off. We were a miserable sight. I was sweating like Patrick Ewing. I had to walk mainly in the street because the sidewalks were too narrow.

I thought it was pretty fun. She was really trying to find a van or delivery truck that would help us out, and I thought we were in luck when one of these stopped, offered to help, told us to wait because they had to turn around, and then it zooms off never to return. Eventually, when we were about 3/4ths of the way finished, a sketchy delivery driver said something to the girl, and finally we had our mattress in the back of a huge truck mixed with bags of rice. I finally got to ride in one of those crazy things, and the guy driving it was only slightly less crazy. His name was ‘Demitri,’ obviously a Soviet-bloc immigrant. I’ll just say one thing about Demitri: He literally forced us to eat ‘garinim,’ or sunflower seeds with him. She politely refused once, twice, then he got serious and I found myself with about 10 of them. Then he made us take more. I was already thirsty from sweating out about a liter after the walk.

Finally we got the mattress up the steps, into her 4th floor apartment. Nice day. Chug water. Wonder why she is paying $400 a month for an attic, literally. Pity her roommate who is dying over the previous tenants cat fur gift. Return for the slightly less laborious frame. Luckily I was able to carry that on my back for about 3/4 of the way, then we did a 70-30% distribution on the carry.

I have to say I had a lot of fun. It’s nice to get out there and help somebody, especially if you don’t really know them that well. Even if a ’10 minute walk’ really was about a mile. She offered me money in the beginning, as I said, but I refused. I just wanted to help; I wanted to be useful. And I’m bored out of my mind right now because the yeshiva is in a sort of holiday break, with nothing going on. Besides, she’ll buy me dinner or something later. It did take three hours after all.

On my way back to the Old City I encountered hordes, literally hordes, of foreign tourists all wearing t-shirts of the countries they are from. I knew that not even the corniest of tourists all coincidentally happen to wear their countries boldly on their shirts. I found out later that there was some type of parade, where people were just jumping up and down in procession, representing their countries, giving out flags, simply being merry. Norway, Denmark, Brazil, England, America, all types of places were represented. There are very few things as refreshing to a beleaguered state as seeing direct international support. Even if it made my normally 15 minute walk take double the time.

The last thing to mention is that my closest and really only true friend at the yeshiva left tonight for New York. His name is David, he was in the sailing pictures I posted. He’s going back to get a job, get his life on track, and potentially even start a business selling his mom’s “unbelievably delicious and unbelievably healthy” cookies. His family seems to be super-health nuts, vegetarians at times, and his mom makes a walnut, almond, and date cookie that apparently is the best thing since sliced bread. Look out for “Dr. Mier’s Kitchen” in the near future. I told him to put some chocolate chips in there.

Moving to another country, 7,000 miles away from your family, essentially alone and on your own is really a more difficult thing than most people can imagine. You have to do a lot of stuff to reestablish your life, like deal with banks and phone companies and government agencies, and even if these things all go smoothly it really reinforces the idea of your permanence and your solitude. No one in the world can do these things for you! You, and you alone, are the person that must take control of your life, no matter how difficult things may seem. This type of transition, for sane people, necessitates introspection and dialogue on the meaning of life, the meaning of your life, who you are, what you want to be, and how you are going to achieve your goals. The first period the transition is the hardest, in my opinion, because everything is slowly seeping into the consciousness, the realization of the immense choice made. The choice to literally change one’s life.

David helped me make this transition by not only being someone that listens, but by being a more experienced person that was able to bring in professional perspectives. We shared psychology books, self-help books, and the information gleaned from all sources, be it secular or religious. He is a similarly afflicted individual; one who searches for deeper meaning.

What I’m saying is that he will be sorely missed. And as I parted with him, as he was loaded down with all his bags, I realized that not only will he be missed, I will be missed as well. Mutual assistance, a mutual friendship, even if it is only a month long, is one of the dearest things to lose. There is no feeling such as loss, no feeling as intense and genuine, true and searing as finding a friend amidst a sea of solitude, only to return to that solitude so abruptly.

Don’t worry about me, I have plenty of people to talk to here. There is a great guy that I’ve known for over a year now that is here. Really a great human being, one of the greatest I’ve met in my entire life. But there is a difference between connecting with someone, feeling a certain singularity stemming from a similarity in personality, and simply being able to admire and talk to a person.

But as I truly believe: Whatever we are given is given for a reason, there is a purpose behind our possessions and interactions, and it is not up to us to decide when these things or relationships will end. We simply must make the most out of everything in our power…and we must take comfort in the knowledge that we never took anything for granted.