Yes, I still exist.

I know, I know, I've been promising an update forever. In fact, I have one, about half-written, saved on my computer. But it's so hard to sit down and sift through everything I've been doing and try and pick out the things I think my readers would be interested in. And if I wrote EVERYTHING, well, you'd be sitting at your computer reading for a long time.

So in a tribute to my inability to think coherent, well-put-together thoughts, I now present you with "Nehama's observations on Kibbutz Ein Tzurim, intercity bus systems, and Israel(that small little country)." Enjoy!

-I work in Gan Tzivoni on Kibbutz Ein Tzurim. It is the Israeli equivalent of kindergarten, although the ages range from preschool to kindergarten, with 4.5-6 year old kids. There are 6 teachers there (and myself), with 4-5 of them there each day, in addition to sheirut leumi (national service) girls and aides in and out all day. With all these teachers, you'd think the 30 kids would be getting some pretty good lovin' but for some reason, almost every single teacher is more of a janitor than that warm comfy huggable teacher we all (hopefully) had when we were five. And as for that janitor bit, I am DEFINITELY included in that number, perhaps even more so than the others.

Hi, my name is Nehama Rogozen, and I am a reincarnated neat freak. Last night I had a dream that I hadn't scrubbed one plate well enough before putting it in the dishwasher, and, gasp, it came out DIRTY! And then I had another dream where I used a broom when I should have used a sponga!

I think my main problem is the fact that I clean ALL day long, and yet, nothing is clean. Everything LOOKS clean, but is any of it sanitary?

I did catch one girl blowing her nose on her bookbag when we ran out of tissues (actually, toilet paper).

-So, spongaing. It's what I do for the majority of my six hours at work each day. I STILL don't understand the mechanics of it. It's basically a squeegee but depending on the amount of water, food, or dirt on the floor, it can become 8 million different tools. And when you add a big rag on top to make it a mop, ooh, baby, it gets difficult.


How DO they keep that mop on there? I managed to keep it on there for about 3 or 4 whole seconds today and then I just gave up, planted the sponga on top of the rag and sort of pushed it around until there were no big dangerous puddles of water on the floor.

(By the way, none of this probably made sense to you unless you've seen an Israeli floor being washed.)

-Ein Tzurim. It means stream of rocks. I see no streams. I see no rocks.

-I do see cows. By that, I mean that I smell them. Actually, on a day-to-day basis, I pretty much get used to the smell and then it's fine. But everytime I return from traveling somewhere, my nose has to get readjusted. It;s somewhat painful.

-Speaking of traveling-I have by now, spent dozens of hours sitting on Egged buses, and hundreds of shekels for the privilege of doing so. It would be a lot more pleasant if the English and Hebrew websites were more accurate and if the routes listed all the places along the way that they stopped. And if buses were more frequent, and on time. And if the bus stop on the outside of kibbutz weren't so far away. And if it didn't cost a ridiculous 7.60 shekels to get to Kastina (where you get the bus to Be'er Sheva).

I do know that when I'm back in America in just a couple short months, I'll miss Egged. But my sore butt doesn't tell me that often.

-Reflections on Israel: This country is meshugah (crazy). I don't think it's possible to put it anymore simply.

Maybe I'll compile a book called "Only in Israel," with stories from people about their encounters with Israelis. The last sentence of each story with be "Only in Israel, rak b'yisrael."
Any contributions?

6 months=182.62 days=a whole lot of minutes

So a couple days ago, the six month mark passed. Six months spent halfway around the world from my family and friends, six months living in Israel, six months of learning, change, and experiences. Hopefully, I got the most out of them as I could.

Three months to go. And hopefully, they will be just as rewarding, if not more, than the previous six months.

The first part of Nativ, living in Jerusalem, represents so many things to me on so many levels.
It was a stressful time due to school, social issues, and West Side Story. But in a way, it was relaxing, knowing that living right in the middle of a large city granted me access to anything I needed at just about any time of day. (The store is only open on kibbutz til 7! The infirmary is only open a few scattered hours during the day! Following THEIR laundry schedule, not mine! Eating what they give me...because there's nothing else!--At least I'm beginning to think ahead about scheduled things, and also becoming less materialistic.)

There were adventures to be had, places to explore, new falafel stands and restaurants to try, and always someone up for the journey.

I could be as secular or religious as I wanted. Just a few blocks away was the Old City, and one turn off of Agron Street could lead either there, or to Jaffa Road and its environs-Kikar Tzion, Ben Yehuda, Yoel (Moshe Salomon St.) and plenty of little nooks and crannies hidden amongst them, full of bars, clubs, and other "attractions."

On Shabbat, I could sleep in late, or I could wake up tired after a into-the-night Nativ-a-Tisch, and trudge to shul (synagogue). I could take ten steps from my building into the boring Conservative shul next door, or I could wake across the street to the Great Synagogue, or walk down the slippery Yemin Moshe steps to either the Sephardic (beautiful building) or Ashkenazic (amazing food) shul. I could walk through Gan Ha'Pa'amon (the Bell Park) to Emek Refaim and go to Shira Chadasha or Kedem. I could get lost searching for Shir Chadash or Yedidya. Or I could just take a siddur, stand on the porch outside my room, and daven to myself as I gazed out into the distance, taking in the scenery around me.

Just because I had all these options didn't mean I had to take them. But I chose to. And the options in terms of where to go for services showed me the large variety of religious beliefs in Jerusalem. I took it upon myself to see what there was, and to experience it. By doing that, I found multiple communities that I know I will always be welcome at.

Religion may not be one of the things an already-observant person tries to explore, but I think there was a deeper meaning in this search. If I could find communities in Jerusalem where I felt comfortable religiously, it would be a sign that making aliyah was do-able.

There's so much talk about "secularis" vs. "religious" that it's kind of hard to believe there's anything in between. The statistics make it sound as if it's impossible for anything else to exist, but who cares if there are thousands of Orthodox shuls and only a few dozen progressive ones? What matters is that they're there, and some of them are thriving.

I would never make aliyah if I couldn't be comfortable as a Jew in the Jewish homeland, and now I am positive that it can be done. But it would have never have happened if I hadn't reached out past my boundaries for new experiences.

Wow...that post wasn't supposed to really be about religion at all. But it came out that way i guess.

So in a quick sum-up: I think I have changed a lot over the past six months. I may not know exactly what I stand for or what my place is in the world, but those are very general goals to set out for oneself, goals, in fact, that don't have that much bearing on one's life in the first place.

So to be more specific: I think I have become more mature, inquisitive, self-demanding, and willing to accept my duties (mostly referring to the fact that I spend six hours a day cleaning).

There were specific things that really affected the last six months, most notably a long bout with bronchitis, and then of course the concussion and its still-continuing aftermath, but those aren't things I can change, so it's not worth complaining about them. I can only hope that the rest of my year will be healthier.

I don't know what the next three months will bring. Kibbutz is a totally different environment, and it may bring out other changes in my personality or beliefs, or it may not. Whatever comes, comes, and I hope I'm ready for it.

(Kibbutz update coming soon!)