"You Don't Know What You've Lost 'Till It's Gone...They Paved Paradise and Put Up a Parking Lot."

Back in 2003, on my first trip to Israel, our group went to the Negev ('Negba' biblical word south, now synonymous for the desert region) for a week.  While there, at one of our stops (probably Ben-Gurion's house or grave site), we were talking about David Ben-Gurion and his vision and passion for the desert.  To help us better understand how he felt about the region, our counselors used the lyrics from the Joni Mitchell song "Big Yellow Taxi", which at that time we all knew from the Counting Crows version that was all over the radio.  Our counselors use of those lyrics, specifically the line used in the post title, really made an impact on me because to this day, 8 years later, when I hear the song I think of the Negev and when I think of the Negev I hear the song.

Having not been to the Negev in 8 years, I forgot how beautiful it is.  When one thinks of the desert, the first thing that usually comes to mind is sand, and/or sand dunes, usually followed by camels or something thereof.  While the Negev certainly does have lots of sand, and plenty of "domestic" camels, there is a lot more to the region than just sand and camels.  The Negev is beautiful.  It's a very different beauty than that of the lush, green hikes in the North, or the ancient feel of the Jerusalem stone buildings throughout Jerusalem.  The assortment of colors displayed by the many layers of sand, rock, and stone in the mountains and rock formations is stunning.  But it's not just the colors that make the desert so beautiful.  It's also the serenity that comes with being in a place that other than the group of people you're hiking with, there's not another soul around.  No cars.  Spotty cellphone service.  No WiFi.

While on our first hike, at one point, instead of hiking as part of a smaller pack within the whole group, I fell back a little and just hiked by myself.  I wanted to take in the scenery alone, but also use the time, and place, to reflect.  I reflected on the past 6 and a half years since I graduated high school.  Everything I've been through, the things I've learned about myself.  I reflected on the events of the summer involving my grade appeal.  I didn't just reflect on the past.  I also used the time to think about the future.  What I want for myself.  What I want to do with my life.

I came to Israel with every intention to apply to graduate school while I was here and start in the fall of 2012.  At the beginning of December I made the decision to not apply to my top choice school, Oregon, and see what happens with the rest of the schools and decide if I wanted to put of school and reapply or forego Oregon altogether.  While on our hike, I decided that I wanted to not apply to any graduate programs for the fall and take a year to work and then apply to start in the fall of 2013.

After my freshman year of college when I first realized I would not be finishing school in 4 years, I just wanted to be finished before Paul.  Another year passed and I started to come to terms with the fact that my younger brother would most likely graduate college before me, or in the same year.  That it was not a race.  It doesn't matter how long it took you to get your degree.  What matters is that you have one.  And even though I may have accepted that it's really not a race, I still wanted to just go straight into graduate school and get my master's.  Hopefully before Paul.  Within the last year, I fully realized that it truly is not a race to see who crosses the finish line first.  It may not be a tortoise and the hare situation, but everyone takes the time they need to be successful.  It was this full acceptance and realization that led me to the decision to not apply to graduate school for the fall of 2012, work for a year and apply for the fall of 2013.

Since making this decision, I not only feel a sense of relief and release of the stress that comes with taking the GRE and applications, but an excellent job opportunity may have presented itself.  A few weeks ago, while working the Austin Peay Men's Basketball game, Brooke was talking to the head coach and athletic director.  Somehow the conversation moved to them maybe needing a new athletic trainer at the school came up.  She mentioned she had a friend at MTSU studying athletic training and the coach sounded interested.  If I can get a job at the collegiate level straight out of undergrad, I don't need to go to graduate school right away.  If I can put on my resume that I got a job at a Division 1 institution right out of undergrad, it should, give me an advantage over my peers.  I would not completely forego graduate school, I would just postpone it for a few years until, presumably, my level of experience will equal that of my peers with a master's degree and experience.  Another possible job opportunity may come in the way of having to retake a class.  Unfortunately, I will still need a clinical site in the spring, but my advisor has arranged for my site to be with the Rutherford County EMS.  If all goes well during the semester, I could apply for a full time job with them, or even with Williamson County, or if appropriate, up in Montgomery County or in Clarksville.

Despite all the speed bumps thrown my way while trying to navigate my way through my undergraduate education and experience, it may turn out that having hit what seems like every possible speed bump, and specifically the crap from this summer, could be the best thing has happened to me.  It's because of these speed bumps, and this summer, that I have really been able to evaluate, reevaluate, and reevaluate again, what I want for myself, make sure I've got everything in line to make it happen, and to actually make those things happen.

This picture was taken on our first hike on one of the ridges of Machtesh Ramon

חנוכה

Hanukkah started at sunset December 20 and ended at sunset December 28 (the last candle was the 27th).  It was so cool to be here during Hanukkah.  In December 2006 our family took a trip to Israel that also coincided with Hanukkah.  I honestly don't remember how many nights of Hanukkah we were here for, except that one of the nights our tour had dinner, lit candles and walked along the street where there was a street fair going on.  I remember it being cool, but I was tourist.  This year, I was here as a temporary resident.

Just like in the States during Christmas where every store is decorated for Christmas, in Israel every store is decorated for Hanukkah.  Die-cut menorahs and dreidels, hannukiyot everywhere you looked, sufganiyot (jelly donuts) EVERYWHERE.  The first 3 nights we were in the Negev, more on that trip in the next post.  It was a lot of fun to celebrate with our entire program.  The first night, there was a little "play" written by one of my friends, candle lighting, sufganiyot, and, the best part, a bonfire on the sand in the middle of the desert making s'mores and singing Hanukkah songs.  It was also at the bonfire that most of the non-North American participants made s'mores for the first time!  It didn't occur to me until I heard one of the Brits explaining what to do to another Brit.

My next door neighbor is a chef, a pretty damn good one at that.  Since we moved to Jerusalem in October, we've had a "family" Shabbat dinner at least once a month.  Last week, he made latkes for dinner.  They were good, but not moms!  I always love the night that Shabbat and Hanukkah over lap.  There's just something about lighting both sets of candles and celebrating both at the same time.

So in the US, and maybe other places, latkes are the big Hanukkah food with the sufganiyot as a "side" food.  In Israel, it's the other way around.  As hard as it is to find, or smell, latkes in Israel, the plethora of donuts more than makes us for the lack of latkes.  These are not your traditional jelly filled donuts.  Every bakery you pass has their own assortment of very delicious looking and tempting donuts.  You can find everything from chocolate to halva, dolce de leche to, yes, alcohol injected filling.  You can find the jelly ones, but why would you eat a jelly with powder sugar topping when you could have a chocolate filled sufganiyah with a sprinkle topping?  Aside from the food and store decorations, even the busses were in the Hanukkah mood.  The electric sign on the front of every bus that usually displays route number and destination also said "חנוכה שמח".  Every store, restaurant, public square had a hanukkiayh.  Even the American bar had one in it's window, made out of Jose Cuervo bottles.

Despite the obvious signs of Hanukkah, it just didn't feel all that much like Hanukkah to me.  Maybe it was because I wasn't with my family, maybe it was because I didn't eat enough latkes, but it just didn't feel the same.  It was weird but necessarily a bad weird.  Either way, Hanukkah 2011 will always be a special one because it will, forever and always, be the Hanukkah I spent in Israel not as a tourist but as a temporary resident.

Tel-Aviv and Sderot

Last Wednesday, I went up to Tel-Aviv a) because I wanted to see the rest of my Career Israel friends at Beit Leni, aka the Frat House, and b) because we had our MDA closing ceremony where we got our certificates and our official training period is over.  When I got to Beit Leni, my friend Michael asked me to do a night shift with him and our friend Natalie that night.  There was no way I was saying no to that because I knew the 3 of us would have a BLAST working together.  Long story short, we got split up, 2 and 1, based on need.  It was so nice being back there with everyone.  I loved that even though I don't have a bed there anymore, I was able to bed hop and not sleep on the floor once!

On Sunday, we had our Sderot and Disengagement Seminar.  Our entire program went to Sderot to see, and hear, about what it's like living in a place where bomb shelters and "red alert" sirens are the norm.  The day as a whole was very surreal and eye-opening.  One of the first things we did, was go to a hill where less than a half mile from where we were standing was the boarder fence with the Gaza strip but also out in the horizon we were able to see Gaza city.  My first thought, and what I heard my friends saying also, was that Gaza looked like a much more developed and "urban" city than I had thought.  I knew it wasn't sand dunes and huts made of straw and mud, but I wasn't expecting what I saw.  If not told what we were looking at, or knowing where we were, it easily looked like it could have been Rishon LeTziyon or another Israeli suburb.

The city of Sderot is unreal.  There are bomb shelters everywhere.  Every house or apartment has a bomb shelter.  EVERY bus stop double as a bomb shelter.  We drove by a school, and there were multiple bomb shelters scattered across the school yard.  We went to a playground, where the bomb shelters were shaped and painted like play equipment.  This is the way of life for the residents of Sderot. In Los Angeles, growing up we had earthquake drills.  At college in Murfressboro, we had tornado drills.  Those are normal.  Those are NATURAL disasters.  Practicing a drill that potentially means you only have 15 seconds to run for your life is not natural.  This may be "normal" for the residents of Sderot, but these kids will, and do, suffer from PTSD.  The guy who spoke to us said that a few months ago he was at the airport in the States and someone got on the loud speaker.  When he heard that noise those microphones make when you turn them on made him jump and get in "15 second to run for your life mode."

When we first got to where we were going to hear our first speaker, we were told that Chabad House center we were in was also a shelter.  After lunch we went to the college to hear another woman speak.  Before she started, she told us where to go incase there was a siren.  This was normal for them.  We were shown two different videos about what it's like to live in Sderot and they happened to capture live sirens.  One of them is on YouTube and I'll post the link at the end of this post and I'm not sure about the other so I'll briefly describe it to you.  The news guy is interviewing a kindergarten teacher and he hears the siren.  He says to her "is this real" and she says "yes."  All you see, are all these little kids running for their lives.  Once inside their shelter, they countdown from 15 and at the end they all sing.  They sing because the noise will block out the sound of any possible explosions.  You can see these kids are scared, some are even crying.

Nobody should have to live that way.  Nobody.

The last speaker was an older lady who used to live in Gush Katif.  Gush Katif was a settlement in Gaza.  She had lived there for 30 years.  During the disengagement in the summer of 2005, the Israeli government forced her, and the rest of the community, out of their homes.  This woman had the potential to be a really good speaker, but not only was she all over the place with her tangents, but it was the end of the day and we were all tired, so I didn't pay a ton of attention to what she said.  I do remember her sharing her story about the day they got forced out.  She did not want to leave, so she stayed until the last moment before the soldier would have to take her out.  She wanted to see some type of guilt and sadness from the soldiers about what they were being forced to do, but nothing.  At one point during the evacuation, she was able to get all the soldiers to cry except for the one leading the charge at her house.  After they left, her husband realized he left his tallis and teffilin behind.  When he got to the house, he saw the guy in charge sitting at the table crying.  These soldiers did not want to kick people out of their homes but they had no choice.  You do as your told in the army.  Politics aside, which I know can be hard, but nobody should be force out of their homes.

Here is a picture of one of the bomb shelters at the playground we went to.

And here is the link to the YouTube video.  It's called "15 Seconds in Sderot"

First Few Weeks of Volunteering and Thanksgiving

I know it's been awhile, but like I said in my first post I'm not that good at keeping a journal.  There is 1 main reason, and then a reason secondary to that, as to why I don't see myself wanting, or needing, to write.  The primary reason is because I haven't had or done anything all that exciting that I feel needs to be written down.  The secondary reason to this, is that I have an awesome roommate.  Everyday the two of us discuss our day together.  It's a very casual daily catch-up, it takes place in either one of our rooms, but it's nice to have a roommate that I can do that with.  It also helps that she's a physical therapist back in Brazil and is working in a PT clinic here in Israel, so we can discuss what she does at work, with the medical jargon, and I know what she means.

Since training, I try to spend at least 4 days a week on the ambulance.  I haven't seen, or done, anything too exciting yet but my last day is January 24 so I've got plenty of time.  But either way, the 4 other MDA Cholniks (the overseas volunteers) have each had a birth and I am SO jealous!  I started out with lots of old people, the first 2 weeks my youngest patient was 43, who needed basic transports.  Thank goodness my luck has started to change.  Aside from having unexciting shifts, I'm still having a lot of fun and meeting lots of cool people.  For those that don't know, Israel has a mandatory military draft, of both men and women, when citizens turn 18.  However, for the religious girls, instead of enlisting they do National Service, or Bat Sherut in Hebrew.  Most of the girls speak English so I've had at least one on every shift with me.  Most of these girls are awesome.  Today actually, one of the bat sherut, Michal, I was with is in charge of organizing tomorrow's schedule.  When we were talking about it, the other bat sherut said to Michal that she needed a "cholnik".  Michal said "I'll take Becky" then looked at me and said "only if you want."  It was the first time that anybody at the station has requested to do a shift with me.

Just like in the states where EMS is stationed at sporting events and various other large events, we are allowed to sign up for special events here as well.  From the very beginning I asked if I'd be able to help cover the sporting events.  My volunteer coordinator looked at me like I was crazy because most volunteers don't have any interest.  I explained why and he understood.  Well, he looked at the schedule and there was a 2 day karate tournament coming up, so I said I'd do it.  Little did I know that I had signed up to help cover the 30th European Traditional Karate Championship.  I was so excited! Not only is karate a sport I've never helped cover, but it was a European championship and I'm excited for how awesome it will look on my resume.  In addition to the karate, I have been at a practice for one of the local professional basketball teams and, just last night, was at a professional soccer game.  And I signed up to do another soccer game next week.  My resume will look AWESOME!

Enough of the "cool", professional stuff.  When I left, I knew that I would be missing all of the fall and winter holidays, both American and Jewish.  Being gone for the Jewish holidays was hard but I was in the best place of all to be away from blood family on those holidays.  I didn't realize Thanksgiving would be as hard as it was.  I was fine most of the day because it's a nothing holiday here so it wasn't rubbed in my face that I wasn't home.  What really made me homesick was when I got home later that night, I had 5 Skype notifications from Paul.  He was on with my parents Brian and they were trying to get a family Skype call going.  That night, we had our first family conversation since Brian left for college and it was so nice to have spent some time "together" as a family.  The connection was bad because the 3 family members stateside were at Disney World and using Skype on Mom's phone, so they got off and Paul and I had some time to talk.  He and I caught up a little since the last time we spoke, and when we got off the phone I sat at my computer for a few minutes just feeling sad.  I also think I'm at that point in my trip where just about ready to come home.  I have NEVER been away from home for this long without seeing family, but, thanks to Brooke and her countdown, I'll be home in something like 55 days or so.  And I know, for sure, by then I'll be ready to come home, not ready to leave Israel because who would, but because I miss my family.