A Week ago I kicked off my weekend with a hike in the Jerusalem Forest. Although I was still half-asleep at the ungodly hour of 6am, I couldn't help but feel energized by the earthly beauty that surrounded me. The morning mist seeped through the hunter green pine trees that smother the canyon and as we walked, we saw little natural springs or "mikvehs" scattered along the way. The view was truly mystical and even romantic in a sense, and it was hard to believe that we were only 20 minutes outside of one of the most controversial cities in the world. I can't remember ever recognizing nature as one of those rare entities thats both powerful and inspiring but truly devoid of opinion or judgement.
After 3 hours of trudging along the steep canyons, we were divided into groups and told to make different dishes using only raw ingredients and a homemade fire. My group was assigned pita bread and while I do pride myself on making a mean stir-fry, I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to accomplish this without the assistance of a ready-made bisquick mix. But alas, pita is much more simple than I thought-just add dough, water, salt, a couple minutes over the fire and you're ready to chomp! The lunch turned out to be quite a delicious reward and I must say the traditional Israeli meal of labaneh, tahina and pita put our hotdogs and hamburgers to shame...
Several hours later, my friends and I reconvened and kicked off Shabbat with a potluck dinner. Not only was it a tasty and fun enterprise, but it was nice to look out the window and see students in other apartments enjoying the same experience. Regardless of what their religious views or practices are, most families in Israel still share a home-cooked meal every Friday night-a tradition that always seemed somewhat unrealistic to me. After a week of work, we should get to do what we feel like. Sleep if we're tired, go out if we want-not commit ourselves to preparing a feast and engaging in conversation. But since being here, I've eagerly anticipated every Shabbat dinner (I swear my stomach obligingly growls on Friday mornings) and its certainly a cultural tradition I hope to bring back with me.
After yet another fun and relaxing Shabbat, my dad and I got to kick-start our week with a fun volunteer project at Save A Child's Heart. The organization is devoted to performing life-saving heart operations on children all over the world-primarily those who live in countries which lack the necessary medical resources to help them. SACHA puts all political problems aside (in fact half of the assisted children are Palestinian) and focuses on giving innocent children an opportunity to live a healthy life. In addition to providing doctors who donate their time to perform the procedures, SACHA also covers all expenses regarding their surgery. We got to visit the children at the house they stay in pre and post recovery and I can honestly say I think I had more fun then they did!
Since the children come from all over the world, none of us spoke the same language, but I was happy to discover that the language of "playtime" needn't have a dialect or place of origin-we all understand it! In many respects, the kids were completely normal in the ways they laughed, interacted and even fought, but noticing the occasional scar made me realize that they had been through an amount of trauma I couldn't possibly related to and it made me feel very fortunate for my health.
So far my trip has been full of a myriad of unique and meaningful experiences and it never ceases to amaze me that they all stem from a country no larger than New Jersey...
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