Since the last time I wrote: The Arbeit Macht Frei at Auschwitz was stolen, mangled in various ways and subsequently found. My parents visited and we toured the northern half of the country, with particular concentration on Rabbinic mosaics. My parents treated me to gustatory delight in multiple forms, and I in turn showed them splotches of my life here in Israel. Need a place to stay near T'veria, stay here, on the Arbel Moshav — stunning scenery, away from the city and quite reasonable. We at Bustenai 11/7 hosted seudah sh'lishit for 30, with special guest including Rabbi Nevins (our dean). I ran into at least five different tourist groups of Nigerian Christian pilgrims in the Old City of Jerusalem. American Jews descended upon Jerusalem. I found a new favorite band, called Alma.
Birthday festivities included Ethan buying me two Costco-sized tubs of those only-in-Israel gummies which are essentially a tube of sugar covered in sugar. That is up there for best gift.
Aliza and Guy probably take the cake for creativity, though. When I staffed Ramah Seminar in Israel (a 6-week trip for 17-year-olds) with Aliza, she showed an Israeli classic called Givat Halfon on one of the busrides. I latched on to a particularly amusing line, and have been repeating it to her ever since then. As you can see, there’s a man wandering around the desert, looking for the ocean. “An hour. An hour I’ve been looking for the ocean. Why can’t they put up a small sign?! — ‘Yam (ocean).’”
And Aliza found that t-shirt — Yam. Well done.
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