big city life

exposed. that is the feeling that builds each time i ascend the hill into Jerusalem. yesterday we moved out of our apartment in Netivot, and moved into an apartment on the hebrew university campus on Har Hatzofim, Mt. Scopus. i always feel a bit uneasy here, like i'm one tiny piece in a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle, probably the number of people who live in the area.

i am sad to leave netivot too soon. it is the first time i can remember being sad to leave a place since we moved when i was five, from Waldwick to Ridgewood. otherwise, it has always been the right time to leave. i felt very appreciated. but my presence was also symbolic, and that's exactly why it was so much appreciated. like Roman, one of our Atidim students, told the Board of Governors of the Jewish Agency this Monday, "Because they're [Jeff and myself] here, we know that someone out there in the world, someone in the United States, is thinking about Israel, and about Israelis, and about us." in a country as solitary and enemy-locked as Israel, these kind of partnerships are an essential kind of support, and something that is totally unique, in my experience, to the international jewish community. (i will perhaps write another entry about guiding a tour for the Board of Governors. sorry, dad, if you think this means i've been brainwashed.)

as i rode into jerusalem yesterday, i felt it was a big city life too much for me, a small-town girl from the South, which feels like home. they say the desert is the place to find God. when you're out in the desert, there is nothing to insulate you, no shadow, even, to hide behind. you are naked under a vast, stretched-taut dome of sky. an unambiguous sky one moment storming, one moment blaring sunshine; one day winter, the next day summer. but it is in jerusalem, the city of air, where i feel equally exposed and an intense anxiety of influence--the spirits of the sages and characters who have lived in jerusalem weigh me down as i walk, loafing into the city in jeans and a woven shirt, carrying a laptop and box full of dishes. there is tension in the air, especially on har hatzofim, an israeli educational shrine surrounded by Arab villages.

on sunday i begin three intensive weeks of text study at Pardes, an orthodox-egalitarian yeshiva for English-speakers. i'll keep you updated on how it shapes my religious schizophrenia.