School's out for summer...

I passed my Hebrew exam, so I officially have only one more class to take, which I suppose I will do in New York next year.  As for Arabic, no news on how I did, but I spent over four hours on the test.  By the end I was so hungry (forgot to eat beforehand...stupid) I was shaking and so tired I couldn't concentrate.  So I guess we'll see how it went!

No news is good news

I've been going through a bit of a clumsy spell.  Yesterday I knocked over a chair in the cafeteria, and then later, as I was trying to sneak out of class early, I managed to spill the entire contents of my backpack onto the floor with a remarkable clatter.  These things happen to me sometimes.

Am in the middle of midterms, three down and two to go.  I have no idea how I did on the papers, but I think I did okay on the Arabic test, in spite of all my fears.  Maybe I am learning something after all.

I haven't been up to that much lately.  Went out to dinner the other night, had a few drinks with some friends last night, the usual passing of the days.  But I feel satisfied and full, as if I've lived here a long time; my life has taken on an easy rhythm.  I am happy, I guess.

Israel has also been pretty quiet.  Kati wants me to write more about what's going on here, but the truth is I rarely know.  I read somewhere that attacks on Israelis have gone down 70% since Arafat died, but that strikes me as an odd statistic.  Everything else--moving along, hunkering down for winter, settling.

I am procrastinating

I am working on this instead of my mini-paper that's due tomorrow, which I have been avoiding all week.  It's a critical review of (part of) Spinoza's Theologico-Political Treatise.  This shouldn't be so difficult, but I'm at a loss as to how to begin.  My solution: type.  Anything.  Thus here I am, hoping the very feel of keys beneath my fingertips will trigger some kind of reaction in my writing faculty.

Soon I leave to go into town with some girls for dinner.  I don't go out to eat very often, unless you count the cafeterias at University, so I'm looking forward to food I don't have to prepare and/or clean up.  I'm also looking forward to the same thing tomorrow night, when I go to my friend Dave's for Thanksgiving dinner, and don't need to cook anything at all.  Apparently there are like forty people coming, much bigger than my little intimate Thanksgiving last year.

Anyway, suddenly I have an idea.  So off to work I go.

Essays

So I wrote the first of my mid-term essays and saved it to a disk to print out at school, and somehow the disk was all messed up and I lost all the corrections and the conclusion to the paper, which I (stupidly) forgot to save to my computer.  It took me an hour and a half to write the entire essay, and it has taken me two days to reconstruct a single paragraph.  I find this extremely annoying.  I literally cannot remember how I ended it before, and cannot for the life of me pull it together now.  Am incensed.  (is that how you spell that?)

So now I have to finish it, as well as some critical review of some Spinoza article.  Hooray.  I feel really loaded down with work this semester.  Arabic is 100 times more difficult than last year, and Hebrew moves so fast I can't keep up.  I'm spinning all around!  But overall, I am too busy to be depressed or anxious most of the time.  I almost feel completely back to normal.

Adds and drops

It's Wednesday already. The year has at last begun its crazy spinning, and I am left feeling like suddenly there is no time left for anything. A very different feeling from the past few weeks, but a welcome one.

I have decided at last which classes I am going to take this semester. The official list: Islamic and Jewish Philosophy in the Middle Ages; Issues in the Rise of the Islamic World; Magic, Science and Religion in the World of Late Antiquity; and the Hebrew Bible in its Near Eastern Historical Context (or something like that); along with Hebrew, Arabic, and hopefully German. Hooray! My cup runneth over.

Tonight a bunch of people are coming over for sushi. Tammy is making it, and she, as usual, has gone all out. I am greatly anticipating the final result of her efforts.

If my language on this blog becomes--shall we say--slightly academic sounding, as in the previous sentence, blame it on the one hundred pages of long-winded scholarly articles I read every day. I am starting to think in that style. I am not amused by this at all.

Back again

It's been a long time since I've written anything, but this life of mine spun out of control briefly and I'm only now picking up the pieces. My grandmother passed away three weeks ago, and the next thing I knew I was on a plane from Tel Aviv to Cleveland. I had two weeks left in the semester, but my professors all let me arrange things so that I could go home and be with my family. I did just that, and in a few days I head back to Israel and all the work I left behind. I feel disconnected from my life there right now, understandably so, but I have this nagging feeling I won't be able to catch up.

It's been a long time since I was in school last, and even then I don't recall ever worrying as much about my grades as I do now. That's not all I'm worried about though. The future is still there, lurking, closer than it felt when I was in my last respite--college. There is no more running from it! But I am. I am running from lots of things, and toward nothing certain. Bla bla bla.

Finals are approaching

I am skipping class today. I just decided. It is dark outside, and I am supposed to walk to class right now and sit for three hours on a Thursday night (which is the equivalent of Friday night in the states). That is what I am supposed to do. Who makes class on a weekend evening? Moshe Idel, that's who. He may be The Man in Kabbalah but right now I am very angry at his choice of schedule. So I am skipping! I am being very naughty, writing this instead of being a good student...but I have a party to go to tonight and I must get ready.

I have been studying hard though. Arabic is getting increasingly complicated, and I am attempting to recopy all of my messy notes from my other classes whilst reading the million assigned books, so I've been in the library quite a bit. I'm worried about exams, more than I thought I would be, mainly because I don't know what to expect. I've managed to get out a few times though. The other day I went to a student concert at the Givat Ram campus of my school, in which a Spanish friend of mine played the violin. Afterward we went out to the Stardust, and I met up with some Israeli journalists who took me out for a drink or two. I understood about 1/4 of what was said, so I guess I'm improving.

Ani Yoter Tov

Yesterday in Arabic, we finally learned the last two letters in the alphabet, and theoretically should be able to read, though not understand, everything written with vowels. In Hebrew we are about to finish our first level (Aleph) textbook, and in Classical Jewish texts we are up to the Mishnah. My actual class time in Islam is over, and now it is time to start thinking of my seminar paper. Soon the semester will be over, and I will be a quarter of the way through my Masters. Everything is going so fast, and yet I feel strangely detached lately. My mind is in several different places, and I'm having trouble concentrating on schoolwork. The mid-semester lull, I suppose. Hope I snap out of it.

Yom Rivi'i

My black mood has finally passed, and I am back to (somewhat) normal. My mom's comment made me smile, made me remember what I haven't lost. She has been telling me the same things for as long as I can remember, whether I woke her up in the middle of the night after having had a nightmare, or whether I called her up crying after breaking up with a boyfriend. Having my roomate back in town helps a lot as well--this week was mainly difficult for having been by myself most of the time. But now, I have friends over, my apartment is Christmasy, my plans for the weekend low-key and relaxing, and my midterms have passed. I actually think I did pretty well, but I won't know for a few more days. Although I suppose anything would be better than a 51.

Tomorrow I go into the Old City to procure some Christmas presents to take back to Ohio. I shall be armed with 500 shekels and ready to bargain. I've become quite good at the art of haggling over the years, though sometimes I tend to get carried away with the competition of it, and I have to consciously remind myself to give a little bit. I have to force myself to pay more for things than I need to, remembering what I would pay for the same things elsewhere, and keeping in mind the slowness of business here--I can afford the extra ten shekels.

For now, I must get back to my studying. Tonight I must finish Aisha, Beloved of Muhammad for my course on Islam, and I've got to try to make a dent in Scholem's Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism for Kabbalah.

All Work and No Play

My Hebrew midterm is tomorrow and I can't bring myself to study. I have been memorizing and memorizing words, trying to catch up with the rest of the class--five or six chapters a day. The combination of that with my Arabic class, which suddenly feels like it's getting faster and faster, has been turning my brain to mush. I feel like a sponge submerged in water--there's only so much I can soak up. For the past day or so, I can't seem to learn any new words. There is simply no more room. I am full. Capacity reached. No more studying for a while.

This is really a shame, however, since on my last Hebrew test a pulled in a paltry 51%. I can't remember the last time I got a 51 on a test. Luckily, the highest grade in the class was a 54, so I don't feel so bad. And: Hebrew doesn't count. We don't get credit for it; we just have to learn it. So I suppose the number doesn't really matter. Maybe I can manage a D tomorrow. We'll see.

The Pope's Doorman

I've learned a few more sentences in Arabic. Ibni bawaab bayt Albaba: My son is the doorman of the pope's house. Literally it says my son doorman house the pope. Hmmm.

I went to a party for graduate students the other night, and met a bunch of people...Two Australians, an Indian Brahmin, A Finn (is that how you say it?) a few Germans, a couple Eastern Europeans (Polish, Hungarian, Russian) a Canadian, and a grand total of two Americans. We are extremely underrepresented in the graduate program, which I actually like. I am not accustomed to being a minority. Luckily the conversation never turned to America and how badly it sucks (a conversation I'm used to having when I meet Europeans especially). Instead we focused on safe topics, like our majors and how many languages we speak and what we make of Israel. But I could tell beneath the surface there were opinions and arguments just waiting to come out.

It's just something about Israel. I remember at home how often people would shy away from outright arguing about religion and politics (with the exception of a few), not wanting to "get into it." Not so here. It's as if Israelis are just looking for a good fight. They talk loud; they talk forcefully; and they talk a lot. And yet, nobody ever gets mad. The argument can blow up, be huge, and then be over and everyone wants pizza. I find it fascinating, and it's having an effect on me, and all the other strangers here. We're all ready to argue. Not that I've ever been afraid of sharing my opinion, but...

Old City

On Thursday night, Tammy and I had our first official party at the apartment. We went all out--three different types of pasta, fried eggplant, hummus and pita, mediterranean salads, foccacia bread with feta dip, and lots and lots of wine. There were a little over twenty people crammed into our living room, which we had hastily cleaned by moving all the still-moving-in boxes and trash into our bedrooms. There was a little too much Hebrew for my taste, but after a few glasses of Israel's finest I felt a bit more comfortable. Most of the people were Tammy's friends, artists from the Hebrew University's Betzalel Academy of Art, and they're offbeat and a little crazy, even in a foreign language. It was the most fun I've had since I've been here.

 

I spent most of the weekend cleaning and trying to catch up on my Arabic and Hebrew. I missed the first few days of Arabic, which put me further behind than I thought. But I have successfully mastered ten letters, and can now say simple sentences such as Bibayti tine wa toot. Translate: In my house there are figs and berries. (You only have so many words to work with using ten letters). Anyway, I figure I am well on my way to reading the Qu'ran. As for Hebrew, I missed the first three or so months of classes (after some sneakiness on my part--mainly, attending the advanced Hebrew classes for a few days before consultiing the director--I have been given permission to move up a level) which means that I understand about 1/16th of what goes on in the classroom. Never mind. How hard can it be?

On Shabbat--Saturday--I finally went into the Old City. I had to find one of the more adventurous types to go with me, since I am not allowed to take buses and had to walk. That wouldn't be such a big deal, except that to walk to the Old City the quickest way (about twenty-five minutes) means walking through Arab East Jerusalem and entering through Damascus Gate--again, Arab--and making one's way through the throngs of beggars and vendors in the Shuq (market) to get to the better known parts of the city. Most Israelis won't go this way at all, and very few students. I think it's ridiculous. Aside from the awesome religious sites, the Arab Quarter was my favorite part of the city. It was strangely familiar to me, maybe because of the time I spent in India and Morocco--the odd scent of sweat, spices, smoke, and shawarma, the jam-packed stalls selling entire carcasses of sheep(?) along with socks and makeup, the windows full of exotic foods and glass tea-sets and stone-carved chess boards and persian rugs, the vendors calling out to you in English (where you from? you buy nice gift!) or Arabic (I'd rather not know). It was a tangible change leaving there and entering into the quiet, clean, and utterly uncrowded Jewish quarter.

Of course we started with the Western Wall. I had thus far separated myself from the history of the place, content to enjoy the very much alive present, but you can't see the wall without going back two thousand years in an instant. I have much too much Sunday School and Judeo-Christian culture in my blood not to be immediately transported back to David and Solomon (never mind that this isn't the same temple) and straight on to Jesus Christ. I touched it. I put my face against it. I wasn't thinking anything at all. I wandered around the rest of the city that way, not really thinking, semi-aware that if I started to think maybe Jesus walked here or these walls have seen entire empires rise and fall or some philisophical/emotional whatever, I would never make it out.



Today I had my language classes, and now finally some time to catch up on this site before I go home and start studying again. I am knee-deep in Tobit, one of the books of the Apocrypha, Roux's Ancient Iraq, and figs and berries for my Arabic class. Hooray.

Back to School

I am halfway through my first week of school, and I have only been to two classes. The first day, I missed my classes because the Israeli students were all on strike, chained together in front of the gates, pleading with international students not to enter and hurt their cause. And I'm no scab, I'll tell you that much. So I skipped out. The next day I went to my first Hebrew class and found that I was to learn seven whole new letters. Considering I already know all the letters, I left. I went to my advisor, who suggested that I weasel my way into the next level Hebrew so I can graduate on time, even if I have no idea what's going on. I meet with the Hebrew Big Shot tomorrow to argue my (admittedly pitiful) case. Wish me luck. Then he tacked on two more courses to my schedule, and advised me to take the Literary Arabic course I had previously thought I couldn't take because it meets at the same time as another class of mine. So we worked something out, whereby I just go late to the other class (of course!).

So now that I've got most things ironed out as far as classes, I have an actual schedule--something I have not had in three years. Strange. My classes are as follows: Hebrew--8 hours a week; Arabic--4 1/2 hours a week; and 3 hours a week each of the following: Approaching Classical Jewish Texts, Eros and Kabbalah, God Man and History in the Ancient Near East, and Victory and Surrender: A History of Islam. Whew. I am a student again. I carry overly expensive textbooks, write in college-ruled spiral notebooks, sit through lectures taking extensive notes, eat in a cafeteria, and have homework, actual homework.

So I guess it's just your average graduate school, with a few exceptions: The textbooks are in Hebrew, or, if they're in English, I have to know Hebrew to find them in the bookstore at all; the spiral-notebooks all open backwards; the lectures are all three hours long, with about nine students each (no chance of dozing and/or doodling), and I have to have my bags and person searched to enter the cafeteria.

I just finished lunch in the Frank Sinatra cafeteria actually--the same cafeteria that was destroyed in the bombing of July 31, 2002. That was strange. Something new, I guess. But I've already gotten used to handing over my purse to enter anywhere: a grocery store, a movie theater. And it's not so bad that getting onto my campus is like getting on an airplane: show id, bags on the table for inspection, walk through metal detector, have a nice day. At least I feel safe here.