Tag: jerusalem

On Feeling Safe in Israel
Emily Bernstein
December 22, 2018

When I got back from Birthright in June 2015, I couldn’t wait to talk about the experience with my family and friends. The problem was, when I told some of my friends I had just gotten back from Israel, they didn’t ask did you have fun? They didn’t ask how was it? They didn’t even really want to hear anything I had to say until they could ask:

But… Did you feel safe? 

I struggled – and still struggle – to answer that question because I have a gut, instinctive reaction to scoff, but I also completely appreciate the question and understand where it’s coming from. 

Due to the media, bias, and just what we hear about the region, people – and no, not everyone, but many – tend to assume the streets of Israel (Jerusalem especially) are filled with violence, soldiers walking around with fully loaded guns, sadness, displacement, and lots and lots of sand. Some of those observations aren’t entirely wrong, but still. 

Here’s the thing: Jerusalem is a vibrant city. There’s traffic, concrete everywhere, and people are always in a hurry. At 8:30-9 am, people are rushing to school and to work. There are coffee shops, and shawarma restaurants, on every corner. At night, people go to dinner, drink at bars, go to movies, go to bed. Sound familiar? It should, because I just described every city ever. 

Is there more tension here based on a more than 70 year old conflict? Yes. Is the media always 100% wrong when reporting on what’s happening in Israel? No. Is there constant violence and are there attacks going on all the time in Jerusalem or Israel as a whole? Not necessarily (but we’ll get back to that). 

Is it safe? I’d say yes. 

I was raised to not walk places alone at night, not go to places that felt not right, and just generally look out for things that seem fishy.

And I went to university in a relatively large city. I rarely walked anywhere alone at night. I avoided certain parts of the city. I would turn my music down when walking alone – even during the day – to be sure I could hear my surroundings. I locked my car doors obsessively. 

Am I any less aware here than I was at home? Absolutely not. Do I feel less safe here than I did at home? Not at all.

When I walk to work, weekly seminars, shul on Fridays, dinner with friends, the bar that plays American football games on Sundays, I don’t look behind my shoulder at every footstep passing. I smile at people who pass me. I’m honestly more comfortable walking places than getting in a taxi (which might have way more to do with the crippling anxiety I have getting into a car with any stranger where they could turn into an alley or empty parking lot at any point and murder me violently which is an anxiety I have in the States, and everywhere, in Ubers and Lyfts too, but I digress). 

It’d be naive to say that I feel completely safe and secure here. Just these past two weeks, Masa restricted travel for Masa participants for safety concerns. This was due to a wave of – and I really hesitate to use this phrase here due to its violent and exceedingly negative connotations – terrorist attacks that were coming out of specific parts of Israel. 

Masa has since reversed the restrictions. The restrictions were in place solely for the safety and security of people like me – on a Masa program – because, while we’re here, they’re responsible for us. It’s a little bit like your parents telling you not to cross the street without an adult when you’re a little kid. 

And, since I’ve been here, there have been a number of rocket attacks from Gaza in the south. Living in Jerusalem gives me the advantage of feeling pretty okay when that happens since people would be pretty stupid to set fire to Jerusalem – a city coveted by all involved parties. But living in Jerusalem doesn’t alleviate any of the tension that permeates the air when rockets are falling just three hours south of here and a pregnant mother is shot in a drive-by shooting. 

I’m not saying this is okay. The Arab/Israeli conflict is complicated and longstanding, and definitely needs a solution so that Israelis and Palestinians don’t have to go through another 70+ years of this.*

I’m just trying to explain – as an American temporarily living in Israel – the situation from my point of view. (And if you don’t want my point of view, you’ve come to the wrong blog.)

What upsets me more than anything – more than if I feel safe, if I’m worried about something happening to me or my friends, if it’s worth it to have this incredible experience – is that Israelis – most of whom were simply born into this circumstance and now have to live in fear for those family members and friends in the army – live this for their whole lives. 

I’ll say it again: it’s not okay. But just because there is violence in Israel doesn’t mean I feel unsafe. 

I mean, look at the US where people are facing awful, marginalizing, violent situations which I will not get into in this blog post because that’s a whole other story. 

Look, Israel and Palestine are at war. And war means violence. War means people are going to get hurt. War is painful, it is gruesome, and it is heartbreaking. But war doesn’t mean living in fear. It doesn’t mean people are living their lives any differently than people are in the states. Like I said, they go to work, they eat, they hang out with friends, they go to bed. Life in Israel is not a constant wait for something to happen, for something to go wrong. 

So yes, I feel safe here. And thank you, truly, for asking. 

*This blog post was entirely in response to the subject of feeling safe here in Israel. In no way was this a post that intended to address the Arab/Israeli conflict. Perhaps I will write a blog about that one day, perhaps not. Should you wish to ask me about my opinions regarding safety or the conflict, feel free to contact me. 

שׁלום

“How Much Is Easy Going To Get You?”
Emily Bernstein
November 17, 2018

“But easy’s like, who cares? Easy’s like, how much is easy going to get you?”
-Anne Lamott

I’m a self-declared homebody. I’m also an unashamed introvert. I need time to myself to recharge and feel fully human again – to brush off the morning I woke up feeling depressed and had to drink three cups of water in quick succession to get my body going, to stop dwelling on that one thing I said on Tuesday about something so unimportant that I’m the only one still thinking about it, to start again. And I love having my own space. After a long day at work, I like coming home to a space I inherently know is my own – a place that feels like, and is, a home. And yeah, I like curling up in my free time with a book or with Netflix. All of this soothes my very heavy and needy anxiety. It calms me.

Now, pack all of this into two suitcases and a backpack and move it all across the world to a foreign country for 10 months. I know, sounds impossible, right?

It’s safe to say that (after almost three months) I’m finally starting to feel settled. My apartment is becoming home. My roommates have adjusted to the fact that, sometimes, I’m too overwhelmed to communicate beyond hellos. I’ve started to feel comfortable in a city that, for a long time – even before I decided to move here – was little more than a line in a prayer, a place to visit next Pesach.

And now that Jerusalem is home (a phrase I never thought I’d have the privilege to write), now that I’m starting to feel comfortable, I’ve realized this:

It’s not supposed to be easy.

This probably sounds silly. Duh, Emily, why did you ever think moving across the world to a place where there will be a language barrier, a cultural barrier, and the like would ever be easy?

But that’s not what I mean. Because no one in their right minds would think any of that would be easy. I don’t mean easy in terms of simplicity of logistics. I mean easy in terms of emotionally, intellectually, and ideologically.

What I mean is that an opportunity like this – to live in Jerusalem, have a fellowship, work within the government is supposed to be challenging. It’s supposed to have felt odd and difficult at first.

Because if we don’t push ourselves out of these comfort zones, if we don’t search for anything beyond our satisfying little boxes, if we don’t move beyond our lane, we will never grow. 

A program like this forces you to look at the world, and all its inhabitants, more intensely, and in a new light. We are all looking at our own views and opinions more closely – whether that is spurred on by each other, our internship placements, or our speakers – and whether or not our views change is irrelevant because at least we’re listening.

I find myself looking more critically at the world. My friends and I have conversations that shift from Israeli politics, to US politics, to what’s new in American football, to religion, and back again – something that simultaneously makes my head spin and impresses me. I wake up every day with a new conviction to change something.

So, okay. I’m ready for more challenges. I’m ready to push myself. I’m ready to step even further outside of my box.

Bring it on.

.שׁלום

There Is Too Much… Let Me Sum Up
Emily Bernstein
November 5, 2018

My lack of updates on my life here has not been for lack of something to share, nor has it been because of laziness. Actually, it has just been due to how busy it’s all been and the fact that, about a month ago now, I started my internship!

The work we do at my office is quite incredible. For a multitude of reasons, I can’t say too much about it. The main reason being that I’ll just babble about it because I get very excited about it and all the work we do.

I spent most of my days researching and writing, which, if you know me at all, is right up my alley. The people in my office are very nice and, because some of them don’t speak English, I’m working on my Hebrew skills (hopefully).

It’s strange to have already turned to November (metaphorically, of course, as I don’t have a calendar here other than my planner which I technically turn every week). It’s odd to have been here two months already and still feel like I’m leaving in a week. However, the little town of Jerusalem has officially started to feel like home. It’s a home without access to nachos, but it’s a home nonetheless.

A very exciting thing happened last week, which was that Dad came to visit! Dad jaunted over to Israel after being in Europe and spent the weekend with me. I was very excited to see him, but more excited to see all the stuff he brought me – some shoes I forgot, my kindle, and, to my surprise, an Aaron Rodgers jersey! I was shocked and excited to the point of speechlessness (although I’m kind of embarrassed to wear it now – the Packers are really disappointing me this season). This might seem like an inconsequential detail to you but it was an important detail to me and so you must hear about it.

We had Shabbat, ate tacos (because of course I found tacos here – don’t doubt my powers), walked through the Old City, went to a yummy brunch, visited the Kotel on Saturday… Just regular my-dad-is-visiting-me-in-Israel things.

Then, we said goodbye, but Dad will be back, along with Mom and Meghan (but no Norman I have been assured which is disappointing but I supposed seeing Mom and Meghan will have to do 😉 ) in December! Hooray! It’ll be here before I know it.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hello, and that, no, I have not abandoned my blogging. Just been busy.

Until next time!

שׁלום

Donkeys, Horses, Camels…Oh My!
Emily Bernstein
October 2, 2018

Well, after another holiday (a whole week this time! Thanks, Sukkot!), some of the fellows and I decided we would go to Jordan for a few days to see Petra and Wadi Rum.

So Jenna, Ines, Will, Jake, and I packed up and shipped off to Jordan.

We started off in Jerash, a city known for its beautifully maintained Roman ruins. Our guide, Mahdi, says that they are the best maintained ruins in the Middle East, “and maybe even the world!” (I’m not so sure I side with Mahdi on that one, but the hyperbole worked in the moment. These ruins are so well-maintained because of an earthquake from a long long time ago that buried them in sand. They were only rediscovered in 1806, and have been carefully rebuilt and restored over the past 200 years (see photos below for highlights from Jerash).

After that, we toured around Amman – the capital of Jordan – on the bus. I would say it’s a cool city, but I didn’t see much of it due to my very uncomfortable bus nap, but the crew told me I didn’t miss much. What I did see reminded me of what Jerusalem might have looked at 30 years ago.

We headed from Amman straight to our Bedouin “camp.” I put “camp” in quotes because it was not a camp. It was a glampground. There were insulated tents, with actual beds, a huge firepit where they walked around serving us the sweetest tea I’ve ever tasted, hot meals, running water… You get the picture. It was nice. 

The next morning, we headed to Petra. All I have to say about Petra is:

WOW.

Petra is one of the seven wonders of the world. And now that I’ve been there, I totally see why. We had just over 8 hours there, and I still feel like I didn’t have enough time to see everything I could have (again, photos below).

Details to note about Petra:
• People were actually living there until the 1980s when the Jordanian government asked them to move so that they could declare it as a UNESCO Heritage Site.
• It’s probably been inhabited since 9,000 BC.
• After it was abandoned by people in the early Byzantine Era, it remained unlived in until it was rediscovered in 1812.
• Probably the most famous line every written about it is: “A rose-red city half as old as time” (John William Burgon).

Also: it’s really freaking cool.

You start with a walk through the canyon, with enough ruins and wall carvings to show you a lot about the Nabateans, who inhabited Petra (many eons ago). Then, you emerge on, possibly the most famous ruin in Petra, the Treasury. Although you cannot go in, the outside is majestic enough. Although it’s called a treasury, historians and archeologists have actually discovered that it’s a burial ground, and you can actually see the tombs below the building. It’s all very historical, which might, at face value, sound boring. I assure you, it’s not.

You continue walking and you see the Royal Tombs, the theatre, the old temple… It’s all so incredible, and much of it is not pictured below only because I felt my photos to be inadequate to just how cool Petra was.

Now, you may be thinking: Emily, calm down with the praise of Petra. You might be overdoing it. And if you are thinking that, you probably haven’t been to Petra.

Anyway, after lunch, we climbed to the top of Petra – up 800 steps (in about 39 degree celsius weather) – to the Monastery. And just… wow. The fact that people were living in Petra up until the 1980s is pretty incredible just due to the fact that, while at the Monastery, I was looking around thinking, imagine if this was your morning coffee view. 

After Petra, we spent a little bit of the next day in Wadi Rum on a jeep tour. You might recognize Wadi Rum from movies like “The Martian,” or “Lawrence of Arabia,” or “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusader,” or even “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story.” So yeah, it’s picturesque.

The sand is endless in Wadi Rum. (But Emily, of course the sand is endless. It’s a desert!) I don’t mean that I wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by sand in the desert because, hello, that seems obvious. I just mean that, at one point, standing atop a sand dune, the sand around us literally looked like it went on forever. It’s actually both breathtakingly beautiful and also slightly ominous at the same time.

All in all, the trip was great (or couldn’t you tell?), and I’m so grateful and glad that I got the privilege to go.

(If you would like any full size photos of the ones you see above, please let me know, and I will email them to you.)

Until next time!

שָׁלוֹם‬

Yom Kippur Reflections…
Emily Bernstein
September 19, 2018

Yom Kippur has just passed, which is the holiday where we, as Jews, finish out the period of atonement between the new year and now. This is the day where we spend 25 hours fasting and sitting (or standing) in synagogue apologizing and asking to be written down in the book of life. These days always make me introspective – or at least more introspective than usual – and out of that, came this post.

I find myself, around this time of year, wondering if I have done enough in the past year to deserve the amazing things that have happened to me. I graduated university – something which, if you had asked me four years ago, I never thought I would achieve. I had an amazing job – learning, reading, working in a law firm and gaining invaluable experience for my future.

And, finally, I had the incredible opportunity to move to Israel, a move I never thought I’d make, but one I’m forever grateful for, and one that still feels surreal when I think about it.

It is very difficult for me to put into words how I truly feel about this time of year. I feel repentant, apologetic to all those who I have wronged (and although it might seem trivial or cowardly to say this on a blog, but I truly am sorry to anyone who I’ve offended, wronged, or been mean to. I know that an apology via a blog, and a parenthetical to boot, can’t seem like much, but I truly mean it), accepting of my fate, but most of all, I feel a sort of closure. Closure on the year past. Closure on anything I might have felt like I had done wrong. Closure on wrongs done to me.

And it’s not necessarily that I feel like these things will never come up again. It’s not like I feel like the wrongs of the past year have been erased. It’s not as though I think everything that I’ve done, or that others have done, have just automatically been excused because I went to synagogue and prayed and repented. 

But there is definitely a certain level of cleansing I feel, no matter how real, or just how personal and individualistic, that cleansing may be.

However, there is no way for me to take on the wrongs of the world, of everyone else, no matter how much I’d like to. And this is something I’ve struggled with for some time now. How can I, a simple woman fresh out of college, stand here in Jerusalem with the goal of changing the world?

My friend, Will, would say it’s easy – that changing one or two lives is enough to really have an effect on the rest of the world. And, to a certain extent, I agree with him. Perhaps this year will teach me that affecting just a few people will help the world as a whole.

But if you know me at all, you know that I can say that as much as I want, but I’ll still feel an obligation to change the whole world. It’s idealistic, and I know that, but this is a burden I carry.

Below is a poem I composed for my senior capstone this past year that I feel encompasses this responsibility I feel to the world. That there is something bigger than me here – something I am aching to be worthy of. Enjoy it, or don’t, but hopefully it reveals some sort of point that I’m reaching for in this blog post.

Yad Vashem

Smaller at the middle than at either end,
the building seems to rock and
the words I have painted on my skin countless times
echo – lo lishkoach, lo lishkoach, lo lishkoach.
We snake through the photos and newspapers
and old bedframes and learn
more about ourselves than anything else. We turn
again and again and become part
of the families that have grieved for people
we have never known, and are nothing but
faded numbers now.

In a room curved around itself, my voice
rings. Claustrophobic, I sink in the center,
and look up through half-shut eyes to see
blank shelves and blank faces and
black water shifting with sighs.

Soul after soul of the unforgotten swirls
around me and I ask for answers
they can’t give – how to heal, how to hope,
how to move on.

They rustle in a language I learned but have
never truly understood and I am
brought to my feet by an existence much
more immense than my own.
They are made of prayers – ken yehi ratzon –
swathed in those whispers that stretch over years
of promises that never came to anything
other than leftover remembrances.

I emerge into the sunlight, the stale oxygen
in my body turning crisp,
a vast view of the city that glints into the day.
I have never known what it is
to hurt until now. I have never
known happiness until now.
I have never known my own story until now.
Still, I etch my skin so that I
never forget – lo lishkoach.

 

I hope you all had an incredible fast – or just week, in general, if you’re not Jewish and have stuck through this whole blog post – and that you have an incredible rest of your week, month, and year.

!שׁלום

Previously On… This Year in Jerusalem
Emily Bernstein
September 19, 2018

I know, I know… I haven’t written in a while. There’s no excuse, other than the fact that I’ve been busy, and, probably more importantly, without WiFi. #firstworldproblems

So, I feel like, before I post the next real blogpost, I need to post a recap of the last week and a half of my life.

Probably the most important thing that has happened: we found an apartment! It’s a beautiful three-bedroom in the city center, with a ton of bus lines and access to literally everything we could need. Now, you might be thinking, okay, but who’s we?

The roommates:
–Yours Truly: a Utahn, studied creative writing and politics, is very witty and snarky, loves Netflix, and will be working at the Ethiopian National Project;
–Jenna: from Massachusetts, has a MA in American studies, is so so smart and funny, a great cook, and will be working at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the Congressional Affairs division;
–Ines: Australian (Melbourne specifically), is probably one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, studied law, is adorable, and will be working at the Ministry of Social Affairs and Services.

We get along really great and have become the hosts for various events (which Jenna and I specifically love because we love being the hosts).

The High Holidays have since passed – Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

For Rosh Hashanah, a few of us were hosted by various families for dinner which was an amazing experience to attend a Rosh Hashanah seder (something I hope to bring home with me. You’re welcome, family!) where we bring simanim to the table – various foods that we have made into puns for the new year (ex: pomegranate so our worthiness increases to the value of the 613 seeds, apples dipped in honey for a sweet new year).

We’ve also had more Hebrew classes and incredibly fascinating lectures about the diaspora and the history of Judaism in Israel and the world.

More soon (including pictures since I’m getting in trouble for not taking or posting any).

!שׁלום

Shabbat in Jerusalem (The First of Many)
Emily Bernstein
September 1, 2018

If you’ve ever spent a Friday in Jerusalem, you know that you only have until about 4pm before things start closing and you have to walk everywhere. So, even though I got out of bed for breakfast only to get back in bed until 10:30am (my room had AC and a comfy bed, who could blame me?), I still had a bit of time to wander around Mahane Yehuda – the main shuk/market – before Shabbat really started in Jerusalem.

On Friday night, a few other Fellows in my program graciously offered to host us for Shabbat dinner, so I wanted to make sure to be ready for that. I walked through the shuk for almost an hour, getting used to a) the heat, b) the bustle of people also doing their Shabbat shopping, and c) the heat. Oh, did I already mention that? Well, it’s hot.

Around 3pm, I met up with Jenna – a fellow Fellow who I am trying to live with – at our AirBnB, and we hung out there (read: napped) until we got ready to head to Shabbat dinner.

It’s fun being surrounded by people around my age who know all the Shabbat prayers, keep kosher, and share the love for Israel that I do. Zoe, Lindsey, and Sydney all cooked for us at their apartment and hosted about 6 of us last night. It was nice because we could all get to know each other in a more casual setting than opening seminar for our program.

Saturday morning and day, we rested. That’s what Shabbat is for! We may or may not have taken a two or three hour nap, then continued to rest until we met up with a few other Fellows for dinner and a drink in the shuk and then we headed to the Kotel for some evening prayers.

Tomorrow, we start our program with opening seminar at the Menachem Begin Heritage Center.

Blog more soon!

!לילה תוב