And Just Like That... It was Done

This particular post makes me pine for the days of Live Journal, when you could use a little figure to denote your mood and choose a song that expressed how you were feeling. Nevertheless, I'm going to break that mold and tell you my mood AND my song RIGHT NOW. 

Mood: Anxiously Elated 

Song: "Even Better than the Real Thing," by U2 (Achtung Baby) 

About an hour and a half ago, I completed my first year of rabbinical school. Final final finished, every last paper turned in, goodbyes said, every necessary piece of closure completed. I'm kind of in shock, and not really sure what to do with myself, but I'm happy and relieved to be done, and very much looking forward to going home. 

It's a little bit unsettling and bizarre to be done; to be walking around an apartment that's half-packed and fully messy, thinking about the last-minute things I have to do before I leave Saturday night. I'm a bit in limbo, but I'm also in celebration mode. As we say in Hebrew, it's a little gam v'gam.

I cannot believe that I made it through this year. Literally. Can. Not. Believe. What. I. Just. Did. When Adam left back in September I remember him telling me how much he looked forward to me coming home in May because I would feel so accomplished; that if I could make it through this, I could make it through anything. And you know what? He was one hundred percent right.

This was by far and away the toughest year of my life. I don't think I've ever been so challenged by so many different elements - by school, by people, by Judaism, by Israel, by my own health; it seemed this year that every time I thought I'd figured one thing out, something else would pop up in its place and go "Oh, hey you! Yeah, you! LOOK AT ME I AM TALKING TO YOU! FIGURE ME OUT RIGHT THIS SECOND OR I WILL PUNISH YOU MUAH HA HA HA!" (That's my way of explaining the ubiquitous menace in my Israeli life. Deal with it.)

And I never thought I'd say this, but I am so grateful that this was not an easy year. I'm incredibly appreciative of what it's taught me. I'm proud of myself for sticking it out and making it through eleven months in an entirely different universe, dealing with each challenge thrown my way and learning and growing as a person in the process. I'm proud of myself for doing it all on my own - an independent woman - without my beloved Jew Fro by my side. And while it wasn't a perfect year, it was an amazing one. I know that I will never, ever be able to relive what I just did in any other place, in any other capacity, in any other time of my life. I feel incredibly blessed to have had this year here. 

And so I thank you, Israel. Thank you HUC. Thank you Ramban Street, and Wolfson Medical Center, and Asaf Gershon my laundry man, and the fresh juice guy across from Supersol. Thank you Shabbat, and thank you TaNaKh, and thank you Hebrew. Thank you Ben Yehuda Street, and Zuni and Link and Chakra, and thank you Bar-On in the Old City for providing my family with Jew-y gifts. Thank you Tel Aviv and Haifa and the Galil; thank you Negev and Arava and Petra, and especially Binyamina. Todah Rabah l'ha kol. 

Thank you, all of you, who kept up with this journey of mine. Thank you for your love, your support, and above all else, for making me laugh. 

I'm off to get a massage. My body and soul deserve it! 

With love, 

Jaclyn

You say goodbye, I say hello?

Well, it's the beginning of the end of the beginning here in Jerusalem.

Hard to believe that one week from today I'll have full suitcases by the front door, a nearly-empty apartment, and a one-way ticket to Los Angeles in my hand. 

It's hard to process the whole thing because there are just so many emotions to feel. I'm ready, I'm not ready. I'm thrilled, I'm devastated. I'm excited for the next chapter and terrified of re-integrating into reality. And I'm sifting through all these emotions while attempting to study for finals and write these papers. And packing up all my crap. 

Anyway, rather than spend a full page blabbing on about my emotions, I decided to share pictures instead. So enjoy. 

This week's faculty-student soccer match. I'm sad to say, the teachers kicked our asses. And rather surprised to admit that, too. 

The uber-hot cheering section

HUC's #1 cheerleader, future Rabbi Amy Goodman

At last night's final banquet, with this year's surrogate boyfriend, Joel

One of the MOST awkward pictures of all time: Leslie and I looking cute and hiding Nancy behind us. Oh well. 

With beautiful Lisa B

Scrunching into a photo with Les, Leah, and Lisa. I love my L's! 

With the world's best roommate, Lauren. It kind of looks like I'm crushing her, but don't worry! It was all in good fun. 

Meredith and Ari performing one of their smash hits/rewritten words-to-Disney-songs at the final banquet last night. Mer's face pretty much encapsulates my year!

So there you go. Now back to the trenches. 

Love, 

Jaclyn

Shabbaton in Binyamina

This past weekend was one of the best I've had in Israel. I spent it in Binyamina, a small town on the coast, south of Haifa. It was there that our Parallel Lives group of students and soldiers had our final  Shabbaton together.

First mifgash: an intense discussion about community and world Jewry

Truth be told, few of us were looking forward to the Shabbaton. It came a mere week before our finals start, two weeks before many of us are scheduled to go home. Everyone's stressed and frenzied, and the thought of going up north to a foreign place made us all a little bit meshuggie. Yet somehow, we arrived in Binyamina on Friday morning refreshed and ready; we were greeted with an insane amount of love and respect from the community, and all of us - soldiers and students - had an awesome time. 

With my host mother, Orit Orr 

What made it so amazing? Well, I think it started with the natural beauty of Binyamina. It felt a lot like a sleepier, quieter, less fancy-shmancy Santa Barbara. Arriving there I felt so much lighter and happier; getting out of Jerusalem will do that to anyone. So right from the start, it felt good; it felt like a Shabbaton. 

Binyamina residents are unbelievably kind, and it's a small enough town that everyone seems to know and love each other. The family that hosted us (me and Rona, a female Tzahal soldier raised in Tel Aviv) was so fabulous. They were just awesome, lovely people. Orit and her husband Boaz had a warm, beautiful home. Within ten minutes I was in love with both of them, and felt totally comfortable in their house. They invited us in and fed us boatloads of delicious, homemade food. They wanted to know all about us - who we were and what we did. They were fascinated and supported my decision to become a rabbi. They were so alive, warm, and kind. It was the first time this entire year I felt welcome - truly welcome - in an Israeli home. 

With Boaz, Orit, and soldier Rona

The programs were mostly put together by Maya, who coordinates the program from the Israeli side, and the various residents of Binyamina who volunteered their time out of interest and generosity. LuAnne and I have coordinated the program the whole year from the HUC side, so it was great to be able to simply be participants. The events were planned beautifully. They were meaningful and significant and not over-the-top. We were also able to simply have downtime in our host families' homes. Which, obvi, I was thrilled to have. 

This weekend was the first time I was able to look back and understand what a tremendous experience Parallel Lives has been. I was also able to witness the impact it's had on students and soldiers. We each came away from this yearlong program understanding each other better, having learned about each others worlds. We became friends, we became a community. 

The group says goodbye... for now 

The most important part of Parallel Lives, for me, was building a bridge between Israeli elite unit soldiers from all over the country and a select group of aspiring clergy members in North America's Reform Movement. In a time when Israel's Progressive Movement is struggling to find its voice, its identity, and its legitimacy, I feel that I contributed some small part to the cause. I feel that I did something to help bring the beauty of Reform Judaism to the Israeli masses. Hearing what the soldiers learned about us, and how they were impacted through this program, made me realize that we did make a difference; we did achieve some wonderful goals throughout the year. 

And so, I do hope that these relationships and conversations continue, and am confident that they will. Some soldiers will visit us in LA in the fall as the final piece of the program. They will come to our turf and observe how we live our lives. By then, hopefully, we'll all be settled and comfortable in our new lives in Los Angeles. (For which I am getting incredibly excited)

Six Years?!?!?!

Finally, yesterday was my six (yes, SIX) year anniversary with my dear darling Jew Fro. Thanks to the suave skills of my dear friend Lisa, I received a beautiful bouquet from my beloved Fro this afternoon.  What a mensch, that Adam! I cannot wait to get back to California, back to family and friends and especially to he man who honors my deep love of fresh flowers.  (And 30 Rock) 

In two weeks I'll be home, and all this will be a distant memory. Thank goodness I've got a blog to keep the virtual momentos. 

Love,

Jaclyn

Nearing the end...

Today, May 2nd, marks exactly ten months since I arrived in Israel for the start of this journey. I de-planed the El Al jet sweaty and disoriented, Adam my love by my side. We arrived in Jerusalem several hours later, to an apartment I could not fathom living in, to a neighborhood filled with religious Jews, to a city that didn't look at all like I remembered it. I was an emotional wreck, overwhelmed and in shock and in total disbelief that I would actually be able to accomplish what was being asked of me. In those first few days, I walked around in a haze; my heart ached for Berkeley, for home, for normalcy. 

And now, I've spent just shy of one year here. I'm three weeks away from the finish line. So much has happened, I can't even process it. I've had the most incredible, challenging, and emotionally stirring adventure. I've pushed myself in every which way a person can be pushed. I've done the vast majority of it all without my beloved partner, with whom I belong, by my side. And I simply cannot believe it's coming to a close, or how much I will miss this life I've grown accostomed to. 

As we start to pack up our lives here in Jerusalem and look towards uncertain futures back in the states, I find myself torn. On the one hand, I've been ready to go home since January. You could not get me on that sixteen-hour nonstop flight faster. And yet on the other, I am so deeply saddened that this life will be completely over. End chapter. Book closed. Shut forever.

Never again will I have the opportunities I've had. Never again will I be able to live in Jerusalem - the tortured, divided, and beautiful epicenter of my religion. And never again will I have the privilege of learning in this particular environment or capacity. 

So, it's safe to say on this cloudy but warm Shabbat afternoon, as the weekend descends to the start of our penultimate school week, that I'm finding a part of myself tearing more and more in two with each passing day: the part of me that aches for home, and the part of me that will always be, strangely, connected to Jerusalem. 

-Jaclyn

Yamim Noraim shel Aviv

Yom ha Zikaron tekes (ceremony) at the Gymnasia Rehavia high school

If there was ever a day on which a person could get the most pure, undistilled picture of Israel, a day in which everything about who they are and why they are who they are was on full display, it would undoubtedly be Yom ha Zikaron. 

Yom ha Zikaron literally means "Day of the Memory," from the root זכר - remember. It is Israel's day of remembering its fallen soldiers - their heroism, their devotion to the state of Israel. In recent years it has also become a day to remember victims of terror attacks. Yom ha Zikaron is a day so unlike any other; a day where the entire country comes to a standstill and remembers, observes, and expresses its otherwise unexpressed emotions. 

Last week was Yom ha Shoah, the first of the three springtime Yamim Noraim - days of Awe. That particular day commemorates the Holocaust. Last Monday, I was fortunate to attend the national ceremony held at Yad Vashem. It was a tremendously moving experience, especially when you think about how intertwined the Holocaust and the inception of the state of Israel are. While the events of the Holocaust did not ultimately create Israel, they certainly expedited an already decades-long process to form a Jewish homeland. So the connection between the two is quite deep, and quite powerful.

Exactly one week later, the country ushers in Yom ha Zikaron. It begins with the most chilling sound one can hear - the sound of an air raid siren echoing throughout the country. It literally cuts right through you, and all you can do is stop and listen and bow your head. The same one goes off on Yom ha Shoah, but for some reason on Yom ha Zikaron it just felt different. On both days, you watch traffic come to a standstill, people get out of their cars, and stand at attention. I cannot imagine a more perfect picture of national unity and identity. 

Yom ha Zikaron is such a hugely significant day here in Israel. Every single citizen is connected to the army in some way, and nearly every single person has lost family or a friend, or both. So literally, the entire population of Israel is implicated in this day - no one is immune. 

Yesterday, after leading services at HUC, we made our way over to Gymnasia Rehavia, one of the oldest high schools in Jerusalem. On Yom ha Zikaron, the school puts together a ceremony for the community. There were speeches and songs, and then students recalled the names of the 138 graduates who have died while serving in the army, or in a terror attack. It was literally bone chilling to watch high school students - not even eighteen years old - carry out the whole thing. To think that they know in their minds, in just a few short years they themselves will be in the army and serving their country... well, it just blows my mind.

Graves at Har Herzl Cemetary

After the ceremony, Leslie and I headed over to Har Herzl Military Cemetary to observe - to see how things are over there on Yom ha Zikaron. It was absolutely breathtaking and moving. Every single grave had flowers, gifts, flags, money, poems, photographs - you name it. People had clearly come to pay their respects. Family and friends left multiple bouquets on single graves. Some people were still there, praying or reading or simply talking to the gravesite, as if that person were still there. 

The most recently added graves

Perhaps the most emotionally gut-wrenching part of the day was finding our way to the big blue tent. Underneath said tent were a greater collection of people and flowers than the other sections, so Leslie and I investigated. Turns out, this particular area is for the most recent deaths. There were soldiers buried there who were killed as recently as January '09, in Gaza. 

I cannot even express what I felt walking through that section. There were so many people - families and friends just sitting, crying, laughing, eating, remembering, recounting the people they lost not too long ago. It tore my heart out. Especially when the groups of soldiers - in full uniform, no less - came together to one grave to visit their friend and comrade. I just... I can't even fathom it. I can't compare it to anything. I can only sit back and recall the experience with pain and respect and tears. 

It's just so very Israel. Having had the experience of coordinating Parallel Lives this year, I feel I've gotten a much better understanding of the mandatory army service. I've come to see how much Tzahal - the IDF - impacts this entire country, creates and molds and shapes these people. Yom ha Zikaron makes it all coalesce into this one perfectly understandable little package -this major moment of clarity in which you understand, you get it. Of course, to translate what you get on a blog is much more difficult than one would imagine, so I'll just let the pictures do what they do. 

And just as the powers that be planned, as soon as Yom ha Zikaron closes out, the country welcomes Yom ha Atzma'ut, Israel's Independence Day and 61st birthday. 

Watch out! A young girl gets creamed (Shaving Cream-ed) on Ben Yehuda 

Transitioning immediately from somber to celebratory, the entire country turns into one big party for Yom ha Atzma'ut. Last night, we headed downtown to watch fireworks, hear live music, dance rikudei am, and join the masses of people in toasting Israel. It was actually a lot of fun, and it was quite thrilling to see Israelis out and about, laughing and having a great night. 

Then today, we did what all Israelis do on Yom ha Atzma'ut: Barbequed. 

Getting our BBQ on... 

Lisa and Deana in Yemin Moshe park

With the BFFs, Lisa and Leslie

All in all, while Yom ha Atzma'ut was such a stark contrast to Yom ha Zikaron, they were both really amazing days to experience. Had I arrived shortly before these Yamim Nora'im last year, I would not have understood them at all. Having been here for nearly eleven months, I just get it. I understand how it all works and comes together as one communal, national thing. 

I'm starting to get tremendously nostalgic and sad about the idea that in 24 short days, I'll be back in California for good. I'm ready, I'm not ready, I'm happy, I'm devastated. I can't believe this adventure is coming to a close. And at the same time, it has been one hell of a year! 

These coming days and weeks will undoubtedly be filled with many blog-worthy moments. I'll do my best to keep the blogosphere in the loop, and will see you all in person very soon. 

Love from Jlem,

Jaclyn