The Student Day Massacre

Disclaimer: This is almost a direct copy and paste from the email I sent to my friends back in Boston- it is highly unedited and contains some inappropriate material.  Sorry, mom, dad, boyfriend, and anyone else over the age of twenty-five.  Reader be warned.

This past Tuesday night to Wednesday night was Student Day here on BGU campus.  To say that Student Day is a big deal would be a huge understatement.  This is possibly the most exciting and looked-forward to event of the year. 

Started out with a pretty typical pregame of Fuck the Dealer, Terrets, and Up and Down the River.  I faced a bottle of wine to myself (because I am a badass and can no longer hold hard liquor after Cinco de Mayo... some of you know the story).  We get significantly drunk and go across campus to catch the buses that take us to a concert in the middle of the desert.  Did I mention that this concert is on a Tuesday night and from 7:30 pm to 5 am and the next day it was reported that 18,000 students attended?  Yeah, they are hard core here.  They legit go out every night of the week.  They make Americans look like sad little kiddies at a t-ball tournament.  I remember approximately 5% of the bus ride to the concert which apparently also had food booths and little shops that sold jewelry and stuff.  The second I get off the bus my sandal BREAKS!  Of course it would break one minute into an eight hour long endeavor.  Good thing I'm too drunk to care and once I do care it's too late to do anything about it.  I carry my shoe in one hand for the entirety of the concert.  After we get off the bus I feel as if my kidneys are about to explode unless I get to pee in the lovely, sanitary port-a-potty's provided for us.  There are lines out the door.  We wait and wait... me growing slowly more drunk and impatient.  Then Ariel and I see this girl and her boyfriend standing in between two potties, not in line, waiting like vultures to swoop in and snag a toilet.  No way girlfriend...  That is not happening.  The two see that we notice them and I, in a half drunken- half I'm-just-trying-to-be-a-pain-in-the-ass way, start yelling about democracy and how we wait in line in this country...  This sort of goes over well as most people here do not actually speak English...  The girls in front of us clearly do as they look mortified.  This goes on for about another three minutes until the girl tries to get into a potty and Ariel literally shoots her hand into the door and grabs the girl out!  Like the claw in Toy Story.  Keep in mind that I am still holding one shoe... Chelsea lent me her other shoe (a size 8 on my size 6 foot) so I wouldn't have to go into the potty barefoot.  Lifesaver.  The vulture girl scampers away with her boyfriend and we chalk it up to another victory for America.

The night goes on with drinking and dancing up a storm, because that is what we do best.  The first day we got here our "social guides" told us to be careful when we open our mouths because the sound of the English language to an Israeli boy is like Viagra.  Apparently they watch too much American porn and think all American girls are that easy (and talented), poor boys.  Lucky for them three out of nine of the girls on our trip are single.  Eventually as I’m slightly sobering up around 1, these grody ("gross" for those of you over the age of thirty) boys approach a few of us.  What do I do?  I throw them "The Face".  Yup Jenna's Marbles "The Face" when you want to get people to stop talking to you.  It works like a charm! 

Link- http://youtu.be/8wRXa971Xw0 

These boys start talking in Hebrew, and I turn giving them "The Face".  At first they are stunned.  For a few seconds they just stare at me, look at Chelsea, look back at me... Then they start laughing a little "Stop that haha, what is she doing? haha seriously".  I am serious.  Jenna Marbles would be SO proud of how long I held this thing.  After a few seconds they are a little disturbed.  They give me that "Are you for real" look then look at each other and back to me.  "Whatever" one says.  Then they turn and walk away.  This was a move to even make my mother proud.  (Pictures will be posted to the side.)

The rest of the night is filled with drinking and dancing, occasionally losing a few of the girls to random boys.  Some of the ladies actually found a group of guys who were there for a bachelor party (weird to be at a college concert when you are 27...) and hung out with them the rest of the night.  Had to break a law school graduate’s heart by telling him I had a boyfriend and actually had the pleasure of giving another group "The Face" before the night was over. Around 4 am we decide it is time to head home.  Getting on a bus to get back was an adventure on its own!  People were literally acting as if this was the last bus to the moon and the apocalypse was coming.  Being in line was like that scene in "Finding Nemo" at the end where all the fish are caught in the net and singing "Just keep swimming Just keep swimming!"  There was pushing and shoving and fighting and blood all over the place.  Well there wasn't really blood but that would have completed this horrific battle scene.  When the bus finally came, my friends and I had pretty much given up and were going with the flow.  Literally.  I did not intentionally put myself on this bus.  I was carried on by the surrounding bodies.  Backwards.  After this fiasco and we finally made it on the bus, i sat down next to a girl. 

She's all "You can't sit here! Someone’s sitting here!" 

I look around "Well there's no one sitting here now”

Girl: "Well she's coming". 

Look bitch, it's 4:30 in the freaking morning on a Wednesday.  I am not moving from this seat. 

Me: "No". 

Bitch: "You need to move!  You in her seat!" 

At this point the girl in in hysterics and I am about to break her nose so hard she'll actually thank me for having to get a nose job later.  But I am in no mood to get arrested in a foreign country (even though I have two passports), so I move to another seat that a nice boy from the back offers me. 

Me: "I am going to put a bomb in that girl’s lunchbox..."

Boy: "It's late, everyone's just really tired."

Me "She's lucky I passed anger management..."

At this point I don't know if the boy is regretting offering me a seat or just trying to be nice as he starts talking to me about what I’m doing here, about his love of traveling, etc. which immediately perks me up.  At 4:30 I have a very short attention span and can only harbor so many emotions at once. 

The bus ride goes smoothly as I sit and chat with my new friend Guy (fifth "Guy" I've met in this country, weird).  Until we get off the bus.  In the last five minutes of the ride I see a girl tossing her cookies across the aisle from me.  Ewwy.  As I'm getting off the bus I go down the stairs and onto the side walk.  Guess the girl put the trash can down on the floor after her friend threw up because I feel something wet and sticky on the back of my leg.  I look down and sure enough there is pink vomit on the back of my leg.  I queeze a bit but am determined to get home as fast as possible and take a loooong hot shower and scrub my feet.   Oh yeah, I'm still wearing one shoe and carrying the other in hand. 

I get home and do exactly that- take the longest shower of my life and pass out like a rock, chalking the night up to a success in Israeli terms.  I can't believe this is what these people do every day

Happy Students Day to us!

Wild Israeli Kitty Part 2

As I mentioned before there are A LOT of wild Israeli kittens running around.  Everywhere.  Campus, the dorms, every garbage bin in the country, the mall, restaurants, etc.  This story takes place in a restaurant- a sushi restaurant as a matter of fact.  Why are we eating at a sushi restaurant in Israel you may ask?  Because, believe it or not, you can eat too much shwarma and falafel in one month. 

So, a few of us are eating at this sushi restaurant on the other side of campus because it is cheap and geared towards students.  May I just say how hard it is to order sushi in Hebrew?  Not really something you learn in a basic language course.  We are happily enjoying our tuna tataki, tofu noodles, and rainbow rolls when we see a small black kitten emerge into the dining room.  We "ooh" and "ahh" at the sight of a tiny baby cat, as most twenty year old girls will- unless you are that girl who screams and scampers away because the kitty is so scary!- but I digress...  This kitty is LOVING our table.  Of course I try to feed it some tuna, but she is having none of that.  She hangs around our table for the rest of dinner, running back and forth from girl to girl, absolutely loving the attention.  We feel it is only fitting to name our new found toy "Sushees", because we are at a sushi restaurant only pronounced as a plural and as if you were talking to an infant child.
Background Info- As you all know I am here on a Dialogue of Civilizations during which I have to complete two classes, one of which is a "Dialogue" course.  For our final project we need to do a creative presentation (nothing like a boring PowerPoint or speech) and I have been having a really hard time deciding what kind of crazy creative thing I want to do.  The presentation can be on any aspect of our trip that meant something to us but also encompasses health care in some way. 
As we are playing with the kitten it dawns on me: I will do my creative project on the wild Israeli cats!  And what better way to do this than to bring a REAL LIVE KITTEN in as a show-and-tell portion!?  I am so pleased with my idea that I proceed to tell the girls all about it.  They agree that I am brilliant.  One problem... How am I going to get this cat back to the dorms and keep it alive until June 6th?

I figure step one is to get the cat and bring it home with me.  But what do you carry a small kitten in across campus?  Why, a brown paper take out bag of course!  I am a genius.  As soon as the kitten comes near me I pick it up and give it a little loving, calming it and reassuring it that it will be safe in my care.  Our take out bags come and I put my left over sushi in my backpack and promptly attempt to place the kitten into the brown paper bag.  This does not go over well with Sushees...  She does not want anything to do with that paper sack.  As she extends her little arms forward, that half of her body misses the sack and squirms out of my grip.  Luckily I catch her and try again.  After several failed attempts and a creating quite a scene in the restaurant, we decide that maybe I should just carry Sushees out by hand. 
Background Info #2- I am allergic to cats.  Like full on, eyes puff, nose runs, get hives, kind of anaphylactic shock.
About thirty seconds after we get the kitten out of the restaurant, I am holding Sushees in my hands at this point under the arm pits with my arms extended as far away from my body as possible- kind of like carrying a football that I have no idea what to do with. Sushees is not having much of this either.  A few of my girlfriends start saying how uncomfortable the cat looks and maybe I should hold her against my body like an infant.
Number 1- This is a wild Israeli cat... You have no idea where it's been.
Number 2- I am not putting my hand anywhere near this cat's butt hole, no matter how cute the cat is. 
I try to rearrange my arms so as not to hurt the kitty, but get a little too close to my body.  Sushees seizes this opportunity to extend all fours and grab hold of me where ever she can.  The freaking cat claws me!  She just short of rips me to shreds grabbing onto my shirt, shorts, and neck.  Yes the cat clawed me in the neck.  The thing about wild cats is that they live in the wild.  They do not get shots and certainly are not declawed. 
As I am trying to be brave and not faint flat on my face, I try to pull Sushees away from my body.  The girls swear they see the skin on my neck stretch as the claw digs in to my flesh (sorry for the graphic details). 

I finally get the demon cat loose and drop her to the ground, don't worry she landed on all fours.  Cats may have nine lives, but I certainly do not.  My neck immediately starts to swell in a hive the size of a silver dollar where I was clawed.  Thankfully I made it back safely to the dorms and downed about three Benadryl tablets that my dad sent me.  Thanks dad :)  I think I'm still doing my project on cats... But maybe I'll just glue some rocks together instead.

Jerusalem- The City of Peace

There is truly no way to capture Jerusalem in pictures or in words.  I am in awe beyond belief of the city I just spent my day exploring- two worlds colliding, the old and the new, as well as the representation of many religious beliefs and so much history... So I am writing it down my feelings and discoveries as soon as possible, while the feelings are still fresh within my mind. 

Bartering for Beginners
If you are a girl, you know that shopping is the essence to our vacation- it single handedly determines how satisfied we are with our experience and gives us something to show for our hard work (looking at museums and historical sights, etc. etc.).  We mainly shopped in the Christian Quarter and Jewish Quarter, finding tapestries, skirts, mezuzahs, menorahs, and various articles of jewelry. Here are the basic steps to bartering in a foreign country.

1. Make eye contact- doing so notifies the shop owner/ gypsy that you are interested in their wares.  If you are not interested or do not have the time, do NOT make eye contact.  Once done so you are hooked and they will try to reel you in with lines such as "Lady want to see my shop?"  or "Hey pretty lady, care to buy a lamp?"  To them no means yes ("Lo" means "no" in Hebrew just fyi) and "just looking" means "show me every article you have whilst dangling it five inches in front of my face please and thank you". 
2. If you find something you really like, act like you couldn't care less.  Call it ugly, toss it aside, say you have seen millions of them all over the city.  This will drive them crazy.  "No no!  Not like this!  Authentic Bedouin made!  Hand stitched!  One of a kind!"  Though all these things may very well be true, it is up to you to make it as unimpressive and unoriginal as possible.
3. Never accept the first price.  You are pretending to be uninterested as you gape at an amazing "authentic Bedouin handmade one-of-a-kind" tapestry, the store owing gypsy will approach you.
"Oh lady you like?  Three hundred shekel (or insert money denomination here) just for you!  Is good price."
You: "Ho hum... I saw another down the road for one hundred shekel... I think I'll go back there.  Thanks anyways"
Gypsy: "One hundred shekel??  No is not real.  This is real.  I give it to you two fifty, that's the best I can do."
You: "No really the other was much nicer.  I think I'll go..."
After a few rounds of this and getting him to go maybe a third of the price down, you pull out this gem:
4. You: "Oh I only have one hundred shekels on me... That's too bad"
Pretend like you don't have enough money.  What else can they do?
If all else fails:
5.  WALK AWAY.  Once you step one foot out of their shop, you've got them in the bag.  They will run down the streets yelling after you to come back and take that tapestry as if they're giving it to you for free.
Gypsy: "Ok ok.  One hundred shekel... Geez lady, we got to eat too."
As true as this last statement may be, just remember- they are gypsies and they have probably sold a hundred tapestries to tourists who just aren't as smart as we are for five times the price, so don't feel bad. 

And that ladies and gentleman is how it is done.

Some examples of excellent bartering technique:
We acquired three tapestries from three hundred shekel each to three for four hundred, three rings all for one hundred fifty shekel that were originally one hundred eighty each, and a three hundred fifty shekel hand crafted chess board including pieces for one hundred. 
Damn we're good...

The Old City
Shopping in the markets was definitely an experience to be had by anyone and everyone at least once in their life time.  It was full of the most beautiful scarfs, tapestries, precious metals, paintings and other art, clothing, spices, candy, candlesticks/menorahs, jewelry... The list could go on forever. 

Also in the old city, we visited the Mountain of Olives, Mother Mary's tomb, where Jesus cried a river of bloody tears (?), Jesus' tomb (at least one of them), an old synagogue, the City of David, and many other biblically historical sights.  Ok so I have to brush up on my religious history... But it was a moving experience never the less.  The whole city had a palpable air of excitement and calm.  The streets had a quiet to them, though filled with thousands, maybe even a million people, it was seemed peaceful and still.  This is the city people come to when they need to find something whether it be an answer to a question, a prayer, or their beliefs- the very meaning to our existence.  I could write pages upon pages about each individual place we visited- each more moving and aesthetically moving as the next, but one touched me most of all...

The Western Wall
Also known as the "Wailing Wall" or Kotel, is a remnant of the ancient wall that surrounded the Jewish Temple's courtyard below Temple Mount and is over two thousand years old.  Every year, millions of people visit the wall, as many think that it is a direct line to God, placing personal notes, prayers, and wishes in the cracks of the ancient stones.  I too brought a prayer to place between the stones of the wall, contents to be undisclosed.  To say that seeing and touching the wall was a life-changing experience would be a severe understatement.  Before getting to the Kotel, I had been forewarned that people do some crazy things: cry, scream, shout prayers, basically mass hysterics.  Today seemed to be a slightly more calm day at the Wall.  No insanity going on, but many people from all over the world praying from prayer books, singing songs, and connecting to God. 

My least favorite part of the wall was the separation of men and women.  It is an Orthodox structure so the separation is not what bothered me- it was the noticeable difference in space men and women got.  The men had almost double the space on the wall women had.  We were crammed together, all patiently waiting our turn, while the men had lots of space to spare.  To add to that, the women were the ones taking care of all the children, making it even more crowded.  Also, a man from the other side kept filming our side with a camcorder, which was creepy to say the least.  I understand that it is not I who will change this unfair tradition of misguided masculine supremacy, but I can at least address it in this blog. 

When my turn came to approach the wall and find a place for my note I was overcome with an immense flood of emotion. It is hard to pin point the feeling...  And I am not claiming that I am at all religious- I am baptized Catholic and actually attend church twice a year... maybe... if only to appease my grandmother (aka the sweetest woman to walk the Earth).  Nonetheless...  There was feeling of, I guess you could call it, pride.  Pride for all those who believe in something, anything, and stand up for it every day.  Being surrounded by so many people who make mecha every year to return to their homeland, whether they are Jewish, Christian, which ever makes me realize that God is what makes people believe, gives us hope, makes them get out of bed in the morning.  Pride for how far we as a species have come over thousands of years.  No matter what is going on in the world today- there will always be war, there will always be someone who wants what someone else has- but there will always be someone there to help pick them up when they are down and help aid those in need.  (Now I'm not saying that a country needs to have their nose up another countries butt just because they feel the need to help at the first sign of distress when it is not their place... But that is for another time, another blog altogether.)  The Wall also created a feeling of hope.  Hope is what keeps people going.  Standing at the wall, looking up at its massive ancient stones, millions of tiny pieces of paper stuck in them- a symbol of a people's pride, faith, and hope- staring into the blazing sun, altogether made me realize:  Everything is going to be all-right...  I WILL one day finally decide what in the world (literally and figuratively) I am going to do with my life.  I am capable of doing great things- I just have to push myself to do them.  Belief in myself, courage, perseverance, and God will make sure I do not end up living under a bridge one day eating raw ramen out of a hubcap!  It's as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  In the end it is me and only me who will decide my fate.  Life is all about making choices and how you deal with what it gives you to work with. 

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle.  I just wish He didn't trust me so much.
- Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Wild Israeli Kittens! and the Day that Changed My Life

Hebrew Lesson
I love cheese- Ahni o-hevet gvinah
     This is byfar the most imporant phrase for me to lean in every language...
How much?- Ka-ma
Good night- Lila tov
No problem- En-by-ah

Kittens!
Oh shoot... I think I just orphaned two wild Israeli kittens.  I start my afternoon after classes with my first go at meditation on the lawn.  Just as I close my eyes and start the breathing exercises- envision breathing in white smoke, pure thoughts, and breathing out black smoke that dissipates into the air in front of you, bad, toxic thoughts- I'm approached by two students carrying two kittens, so small they fit into the palm of my hand.  I melt a little inside when one of the students places the kittens in front of me as the other puts down a dish of milk.  The bigger of the two, grey with white paws and ice blue eyes, I determine is the oldest, much more reserved and aware of its surroundings.  The smaller one, taupe with brown spots and a striped tail also with blue eyes, wraps me around its tiny paw immediately.  It is the outspoken one, purring at every passer-by and nuzzling up against my knee, climbing up on my travel journal as I try to write.  A total mamas-boy.

The students and I make small talk for a few minutes while the little nuggets entertain us- climbing over our feet, wrestling in the grass, occasionally rolling down the hill- when suddenly they say
"... Well, unfortunately we have to go.  So these are yours now.  Bye-bye!" 
Excuse me?  I am the least domestic person you will ever meet, I overflow dishwashers, how am I supposed to take care of two day old living creatures??  I stare at them for a few moments, totally helpless, and think Stick with me kids and you are doomed...  Just as I am contemplating what to do with the little tykes another student approaches me, probably due to the excessive meowing the kittens are doing, and quickly informs
"Do not touch them... You will alter their scent and the mother will reject them."
 Who knew?  Seconds after he leaves, I see a black cat with white paws slinking through the grass towards us.  This makes the babies go berserk!  They meow up a storm calling and whimpering next to me, so I can only assume this is the mother.  The grey one bounds up to the cat, purring and nuzzling.  The black cat carefully sniffs and inspects the kittens... then WALKS AWAY!  The kittens yell out to the "mother", running on their wobbly new-born limbs, not fast enough to catch up.  After the "mother" cat is out of site, the kittens return to my side, curling up on my blanket, slowly breaking my heart.

And that is how I orphaned two kittens...

OB-GYN, Neonatal, and Maternal Ward- Saroka Hospital
Today's visit to Saroka Hospital in the Negev was enlightening to say the least.  Our day started with two guest lecturers- a midwife/ nurse named Hillary and a third year medical student named Annie.  Lecture turned into open discussion and these two women alone had so many interesting stories about life, the birthing process, post-partum, global health... The works.  Many women of the Bedouin population as well as super traditional and orthodox religions have an average of seven children.  AVERAGE.  Some women have up to twenty-plus.  There are many reasons for this such as more hands to help with the livestock or around the house, but many believe that if it is God's will for them to have a child, they will have a child. 
Fun Fact #1- One of the more interesting things I found out was that sex, to both Muslims and Jews, is seen as a form of pleasure (after marriage of course) and not as a sin.  A woman can actually divorce her husband if he does not make her happy in bed! 
The most important thing for health professionals in Israel to understand, as well as around the globe, is what the community really needs compared to what they want/ their agenda.  For example, the Sudani immigrants to Israel come here to give birth because they want an Israeli ID number for their baby so they will receive their universal health care benefits for the rest of their lives.  That might not necessarily mean that the mothers themselves want the pre-natal or post-natal care the state gives.

Annie's story interested me most.  She is part of the Columbia/GBU medical school program, so she got her Bachelor's degree in Oregon and came here to study medicine.  Before that she traveled the world with a program focusing on AIDS and HIV research in Peru, Argentina, and all over South America.  This chick is awesome!  I never realized that was even an option- you don't need a medical degree to make a difference in the world.  Don't freak out mom and dad: I still want to go to medical school, BUT now I know that there is an option to travel and do what I love (help people) before school.

After a short run down if the inner workings of the OB-GYN, Neonatal, and Maternity ward areas we finally got our tour.  I've never seen a hospital behind the scenes, so up close and personal, even when I went to medical camp in high school (yes medical camp).  The very first thing we did was essentially scrub in to the post-partum area, sterilizing thoroughly so as not to infect any areas.  And then came the fun part- something I never thought I'd be able to do as a student- we had the privilege of going into the nursery.  There laid out before us were six brand new, fresh out the oven (literally), perfect little babies.  Ten fingers, ten toes, swaddled in blankets and sleeping soundly; all but one who was getting its first bath... Ever!  We cooed and awed at the tiny humans in front of us.  It is definitely days like these where it's a good thing we are a group of nine girls. 
Fun Fact #2- Many cultures traditionally do not give birth on their backs.  Some do it on all fours, squatting, or even standing holding a rope attached to the ceiling.  It is all about your environment and what you're given to work with.  Giving birth on your back is a very western tradition and it is actually harder on your body.  When the midwife Hillary was helping with birthing abroad, a woman came into the clinic, looked around and asked "Where are your ropes?"  She responded that if there were ropes attached to the ceiling and someone hung from it, the roof would collapse!  So it is all about your resources. 
I find childbirth so fascinating... How different cultures approach and view it, the importance placed on having a family, the process leading up to and afterwards.  It was said that "Life consists of three things: Being born, giving birth, and dying.  Those are the three milestones."  Though I may not agree completely, that there is definitely more to life than that, it gives one something to think about. 

There was a common theme in the day’s topics of discussion and what I got to view first hand: We are health professionals, we do not pass judgments.  Although each country may have their own laundry list of ethical issues, we are here to know the facts, be educated to provide the best care to everyone- not to judge them or try to change their way of thought and cultural beliefs.  Yes, we must try to educate them so that they are healthy, but in terms of tradition and personal beliefs, it is not our place to change that or impose our own customs.  When you have a patient who is competent, it is up to them to choose their own destiny.

First Few Days, Masada and the Dead Sea

Shabbat Shalom!  Yesterday at sundown was the start of our first Shabbat here- the time of rest in Israel- and will continue until sundown tonight.  Here, the weekend days are Friday and Saturday and our week/school days will be Sunday thru Thursday.

Hebrew Lessons
For all of my friends back in the states, I want to make this blog as interactive as possible SO I am going to start teaching you all Hebrew as I learn :)  Here are the first few words that I have been learning and making a point to practice daily: I decided to start with the basics and since I have been told there is no real way to write the words in English letters, I will write them as they are supposed to be pronounced-
Sorry/ Pardon- "slee-ha"
      I have been notified that this is the probably the least used word/phrase in Israel as they rarely apologize for the minor things that Americans worry about on a daily basis such as bumping in to you in the streets or cutting you in line.
Bathroom- "shay-roo-teem" 
      I know if my mother ever comes to Israel this is the first word she will need...
Water- "may-eem"
Please- "be-vah-kah-sha"
Thank you- "toe-dah"
Monkey- basically pronounced like the English word "cough"
      This is mostly for Sam :)
Awesome/ Cool/ Sounds good- "sa-ba-ba" (my personal favorite so far)
This word is English but a thought it was cool slang-  Shanty- "chill"
      (like when Sarah says "clutch" ;))

Official Day One
Our first official day consisted of a welcoming presentation lead by the faculty in the Ben Gurion School of Health Science.  We had presentations from professors, doctors, were graced by the presence of the President of the University (who was formerly the dean of the School of Health Sciences), and most importantly a sixth year and second year medical student who are our official "social guides" for the next month.  It was wonderful to get to hear more about the school, it's prestige in this country as well as all over the world, and the happenings around campus. 

Prior to this we explored as a group, scavenging for food as none of us had eaten since early the day before and anyone who knows me at all knows that this does not fly with my eating habits!  We walked out of the university campus and further into the city passing the Ben Gurion Medical School and hospital, finally closing in on a cluster of small grocery stores, ice cream shops, and, to my excitement, a falafel stand!  Along with this being our first taste of true Israeli food, it is also our first taste of Israeli hospitality.  The older man who owned the stand was possibly one of the most generous people I've ever encountered, abroad or otherwise.  He reminded me of the old grandparent type that wanted to make sure you were as happy as possible and won't stop feeding you no matter how many times you protest or are filled to the brim!  After ordering and picking our side, Israeli pickles (yum), cucumber slaw, hummus, and much too much tahini sauce on mine, he offered us bowls and said we could keep coming back for as much salad or slaw that we wanted and continued to do so throughout our meal.  All without charging us any extra, even for my second coke!  It was truly hospitable and apparent that he was just as happy to have us as we were to stuff our faces with food for the first time in what felt like days.

Masada
On this day, we awake to two missiles being hurtled towards our humble town of Beer Sheva...  We were told that if there is a real emergency that an alarm will sound twenty to thirty seconds after we hear the boom.  One... Two... Three... Thirty...  Nothing.  We peer out the window to see a shawled, kindly old lady hobbling down the street with her grocery sacks, clearly unfazed by the raucous.  So we carry on living our lives, one day at a time.  We had an 8 am departing time on Friday morning to start our adventures to Masada and the Dead Sea.  Steep considering I've had about eight hours of sleep total in the past seventy-two hours...  We start our drive through the Negev Desert, highly populated with camels, donkeys, sheep, and their Bedouin owners.  The Negev covers 60% of Israel but only 8% of the population.  As we drive, it is quite apparent that this population dispersed over so much land does not get enough resources from the government.  Though they have come a long way over the past few decades, even centuries, there are still masses of tin roof huts and wooden shacks, some probably as small as 10x10, that are currently inhabited by the Bedouins- lots probably what we would compare to trailer parks and such. 
       Historical Side Note (read if you wish)- Our guide for the day, Denis, tells us that there are "recognized" and "unrecognized" Bedouin communities.  Bedouins are an Arabic population dispersed throughout most of southern Israel that have inhabited it for many years, known mostly for their nomadic, desert-dwelling ways and camel-raising.  Once government policies came into place, the Israeli government visited each community asking if they had "paperwork" proving that they owned their land.  Most had none- the "unrecognized"- while others came up with some way to keep what little land they had- the "recognized" communities. This status effects each community immensely as some live in huts such as the aforementioned while some live in very modern houses with satellite dishes for their televisions.
Even though their living conditions were perceived to be less than desirable to us, it seems that most were quite content with their simple way of living- raising sheep, camels, a few dogs, and having multiple wives... But I'll get back to that later after my classes on the Bedouin culture, marriage traditions, and trip to a community.  Also on the drive, I couldn't help but observe that everything in Israel is quite dusty...

Once we finally arrived to Masada, the hour and a half drive was immediately worth the anticipation.  Before us stood a massive mountain range, a "Snake Trail" winding up it's steep side and a mighty fortress topping it.  We entered the main lobby and quickly got tickets for the tour of the museum- an interactive walk thru complete with headset, life-size statues/ re-creations of various scenarios of daily life, and remnants of treasures from thousands of years ago.  We learned of the history of Masada- used as a fortress for the rebel Jews desperately trying to avoid the Romans who were invading their land.  Once the walls were breached, they had to make the ultimate decision: be captured and watch their wives and children become slaves or take their own lives while still free and unoppressed.  If any of you have watched the 1980's TV mini-series aptly named "Masada" starring Peter O'Toole and and Peter Strauss, you know how the story ends.  Tragic, romantic, and noble, the rebels commit a mass suicide in the fortress of Masada; starting a fire, watching thier loved ones go up in flames, freedom still intact. 

After completing the museum tour, we made our way up the REAL Masada!  Opting out of the climb and taking the lift up.  We just didn't have the time in our busy schedules to climb up the 200 meter high mountain... Shame...  While on the lift up the steep, jagged, not-so-soft-to-land-on looking hill, our guide Denis made it a point to tell us that the lift had "only ever fallen twice!"  Grrreat...  What came next is described best in pictures not words.  Pictures I will put up once I figure out the slide show feature on this blog...  Why I decided to blog when I am technologically-challenged?  We will never know.  For a quick preview- we saw the synagogue that many spent time in in their dire last hours, praying and searching for answers, the grand palace, the bath-houses that were more similar to the Roman steam baths than watery baths (why a steam bath is needed in a one hundred plus degree desert is unclear, but to each their own), and the wall that was ultimately breached and broken, ending a civilization.  It is a heartfelt true story that makes many ponder the question: what would you do to keep your loved ones safe?  And when no longer safe, how do you save them from impending doom?  It is quite controversial to many whether the rebel Jews' choices were the right ones, as suicide is a sin in the Jewish faith, but I will let you make your own decisions on that topic. 

Dead Sea
Next stop: the Dead Sea!  Denis also informs us that in every other language except English, it is known as the "Salt Sea".  We arrive at the Ein Ghetti Spa absolutely famished after five hours of intense hiking through ruins and quickly rush to the restaurant; our minds not on the epic sea one hundred meters away from us, but the buffet laid out twenty feet in front of us.  I am starting to see a trend developing and vow to go to the grocery store the second it opens after sundown Saturday.  After sitting in silence while stuffing our faces with schnitzel, hummus, olives, and the Israeli version of pasta, we are satisfied and ready to take on the wonders of the Dead Sea mud and magic waters. We did the mud baths first, no one keeping it on for more than five minutes.  There were little stones in the mud bath and I started to look like a reptile as it dried and hardened on my skin.  A true turtle :)...  Immediately I got salt water in my eyes from the showers, not realizing it was actual sea water coming out of the spouts.  Ouch. 
      Another Educational Side Note- The Dead Sea is two hundred meters above sea level- which is officially the level of the Mediterranean Sea- and 12% more salty! 
The sea itself was an interesting adventure.  Due to the high salinity level, one floats without even trying, almost as if you are a feather drifting on the water.  It was a nice change of pace to simply lay back, relax, and reflect on the past few days and what is yet to come... But DO NOT open your mouth, super salty water burns and is even more uncomfortable than the alkalinic solution they give you in the Anatomy and Physiology urine lab... Sarah Rogers knows what I'm talking about.  Worst.  Taste.  Ever.  The sea itself actually has many therapeutic qualities- helping relive pain of patients with musculo-skeletal problems.  All in all, it was the ultimate spa day: mud pack, sea water, and foot exfoliating in the sea salt on the beach (I also used 75% of the Sea of Spa testers in the gift shop to give my self a facial while waiting for people to buy their gifts).  My skin feels super soft and rejuvenated.  After leaving the Spa, everyone succumbed to the inevitable- after virtually no sleep the past three days we all passed out like rocks, sleeping the entire way back to the university.  Once back I tried to stay up until my body gave in and could not stay awake any more, so as to get the best nights sleep ever (which I did- eight solid hours uninterrupted!).  In the meantime I researched meditation techniques which I plan to start religiously practicing tomorrow. 

This dialogue has panned out to be nothing yet all that I expected so far- a trip into the unknown, a peek into a culture I know nothing about but hope to learn, an adventure of a lifetime. 
Mottos to live by on this trip: "Confidence and you will always succeed" and "Take chances because NOTHING is the end of the world".
 Other take-home messages: "Take this opportunity to focus on the new, not the old, enjoy every moment good and bad.  You will miss your friends everyday, they are the ones who make you smile and lift you up- but you will find some new things that make you happy too" -  words from a wise friend :)

I cannot wait for what tomorrow may bring and am ecstatic to find out, but now it is time for me to (hopefully, knock on wood) get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep for the second night in a row.

May 10th- And so the adveture begins...

The trip is already off to an interesting start...  While finalizing my packing/ unpacking of unnecessaries, I receive a call from Chelsea, another girl on the dialogue.  "Umm... Where are you??"  I'm supposed to be at the airport at 2 pm... Shoot.  Already late on day 1.  Way to go Michele...  My best friend and chauffeur for the day, Amanda, quickly whisks me off to the airport accompanied by our friends Bennett and Sam.

The only other time I've truly been out of the country (besides the occasional family vacation to Dominican Republic or Mexico or Spring Break 2011 with my sorority sisters, which is an other story altogether) was around this time last year when I went to visit a friend in London and Paris.  Although I had an amazing, time I could never quite shake the feeling that even though we visited all the landmarks and staples- Buckingham Palace, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower- I never truly immersed myself in the culture.  Besides the food being fantastic and superb in every way and being accompanied by one of the most amazing people and travel buddies I have ever known, I never really got to "know" the countries. 

This trip I will be nothing short of forced into a culture that is completely different in their religions, views, customs, and so much more.  I am studying at Ben Gurion University in Beer Sheva which is part of the Negev Desert.  Yes I will be studying in a desert for a month... Which poses the question: Why did I pack a rain jacket?  Here my subject of study if Health Management and Program Planning as well as a focus on the Bedouin community and their health care.  My main goal for this trip is to fully and completely immerse myself in this culture, really find out what it is about and in turn discover what I am truly about.  There is a lot of self discovery and rediscovery to be made, especially since I will be graduating next May and seriously need to get my booty on track!

After a nearly sleepless seven hour flight from Boston to Frankfurt, four hour layover, and unconscious four hour flight to Tel Aviv, we finally made it to our destination!  We were ecstatic to arrive at the university after nearly eighteen hours of travel, but a little less excited about the four flights of stairs we had to haul our massive luggage up.  Mine was a teense bit over the 23 kilo limit but luckily Sam was sneaky enough to "lighten my load" while on the scale at Logan International.   After recruiting some strapping Israeli students to aid us in our troubles, who I'm sure were just as excited to see a group of nine American girls move in (ha-ha), we were finally able to settle into our dorms.  The rest of the night consisted of unpacking, showering, doing some shopping at the corner store and resting. 

There is no way to tell what this trip may bring, but I am absolutely sure it will be nothing short of life changing...  I have willingly opened myself one hundred percent and am ready to take on whatever life throws at me.  This trip is all about taking chances, seeing how others live their lives and by what means, and immersing myself in an adventure that is sure to inspire the heart.  But first I need to get some sleep... I originally wrote this post at 6 am due to time change and over-all excitement... Jet lag you are not my friend...