Monday, March 17, 2008

poetry!

This Place Exists

constricted streets choking with fruit juice stands,
grey apartment buildings like so many broken teeth,
laundry strung from balcony to balcony
to balcony, venders yelling
pomegranate juice, fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice
fresh orange juice, falafel! falafel and schwarma!
humus! the best in the country! yes, please
how can I help you? only ten shekels! ten shekels!

the Western Wall dressed in a layer of moonlight,
a group of yeshiva boys straggling up
toward their quarter, singing in the purple night
(one of them will be killed by terrorist bullets next week)
(this country is an asthmatic child suffering
constant unpredictable attacks)
the women’s section close, quiet
a man walking the sloping stones,
toting a sweeping kit
many crumpled notes have fallen from their cracks
into the jaws of his broom and dustpan

leafy cemeteries, cool dry dirt, cloudy skies, late winter
two woman visiting a certain grave in the second row
placing pebbles, reciting prayers from a tattered book
a funeral procession nearby
choked crying, muffled sobs that grow progressively louder
wilder more desperate gutteral animal groans
piercing the quiet air, the two women look on calmly
they have been here, they have sobbed

soldiers 18, 19 years old traveling the sidewalks,
their chins smooth, hair cropped so close
their scalps are visible between the dark strands,
the M-16s draped over their shoulders softly
hitting their thighs every time they take a step,
like a child begging his father for attention:

abba, abba
father, father!

-Mariel Boyarsky








The bird belongs to two lands.

She tells herself this as seasons begin
to change, and she prepares for the flight
south. I will be back, she says,
when the flowers are again in bloom.

Poughkeepsie, New York
Haifa, Israel

I’ve migrated from Vassar College.
Students mill about the quadrangle…
One girl sprawls on the grass
beneath an oak, and
bites into a red apple.
The sun is perfectly angled
so that the stained-glass library
windows pulse with color.

I flew east from a land I love,
and landed in love
with this desert.
My days are swollen with playing shesh-besh
by the pool, smoking nargilah,
and tracking the path of the sun.

Last Sunday, we took the 46
down to the beach and there it was
suddenly before us
as the bus swung away from clustered buildings

the sea so wide
the e x p a n s e of sky so great
it brought to mind God

who spreads two arms
a great, far distance
and envelops the entire world.

But no matter how wide I spread my own arms,
I am still on one continent
when I want to be on two.

-Mariel Boyarsky

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

This Is Not a Kibbutz Gan

This Is Not A Kibbutz Gan

Research and Reflection: The Children of Battered Women



Mariel Boyarsky


When I agreed to intern at the Battered Women’s Shelter in Haifa, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. It’s not that I expected the work to be easy, nor was I under any illusions that I wouldn’t be bothered or affected by what I would experience there. Working with any group of people who have suffered so much is bound to be a difficult, even haunting experience--although it can certainly be gratifying work as well. But although I entered that gray, anonymous building that first day ready to roll my sleeves up and work, it turned out that I wasn’t as prepared for the job as I’d thought.
Nessia, the director of the Shelter, sat me down in her office at the end of a small hallway that housed therapy rooms and more offices, which were crammed with computers, chairs, couches, desks, printers, drawers stuffed with files or candy or games or arts and crafts materials, and more often than not, a good mix of people. This was the crowded hodgepodge through which employees, mothers, children, babies, interns, and volunteers were constantly moving, bumping into one another, conversing loudly, trying to work or grab someone’s attention or resolve a conflict or ask a question…The place could be completely overwhelming sometimes.
Amid all this chaos, the two of us sat down on that first morning in the relative calm and quiet behind the closed door of her office (although I’m certain there were the perpetual few mothers and children waiting outside the office for me to finish so they could ask a question or present a problem to Nessia). She spoke with me in Hebrew, a language I’m still struggling to master, but a language in which I worked exclusively while at the Shelter. We’re so glad to have you working here, she said. We particularly need your help in grant writing and working with the children. Do you have any experience in those areas?
I did, sort of. I’m a Gender Studies and Linguistics major, an avid reader, a good writer. I’ve done my fair share of work with children. I related my experience to Nessia as best I could using my awkward Hebrew. I’ve done a lot of babysitting. I have a younger sister and lots of younger cousins. I was a swim instructor at a day camp. I taught Hebrew School and given Spanish and French lessons. I’ve tutored kids privately. And most recently, I worked at a kibbutz gan, where I had to speak to the children in Hebrew, as I was required of me at the Shelter.
And yet despite all my qualifications, I felt nothing but shock and discouragement after my first few days working with the children at Haifa’s Batted Women’s Shelter. It wasn’t like any other job I’d ever had working with children; the behavior of these kids was appalling. They were violent with me and amongst themselves; they rarely listened to what I told them to do; many of them transgressed normal notions of personal space in physical and even sexual ways; even the way they played imaginatively was an interesting insight to the trauma and abuse they had witnessed or experienced in their past.
It was often hard to keep my temper, to remain assertive without being aggressive, or to keep from blaming these children for their own behavior. Why did these kids give me such a hard time when I had been so successful working with kids in different kinds of situations in the past? Why was their behavior so bad, and of what underlying conditions was it indicative?
Debra J. Pepler, Rose Catallo, and Timothy E. Moore bring insight to the topic in an article entitled “Consider the Children: Research Informing Interventions for Children Exposed to Domestic Violence.” The authors point to previous research that suggests that children exposed to domestic violence are more likely to display externalizing behavior problems such as “temper tantrums, impulsivity, hyperactivity, aggression, conflict with siblings and peers[…]and bullying” (Pepler). I saw much of this behavior both in my work with 3-6-year-old children in the Shelter’s gan, and in my work with older, school-aged children.
Much of the children’s violent or aggressive behavior is simply learned. Pepler et al. write:
For children growing up in violent homes, there are numerous potential lessons that result from regular exposure to family violence. First, children may learn that it is acceptable to be abusive and that violence is an effective way to get what you want. Children may learn that violence is sometimes justified.”
The children with whom I worked were witnesses to violent behavior on a regular basis, and for an extended period of time. It should come to no surprise, then, that many of them adopted aspects of this behavior. For many of them, acting out in violent and aggressive ways was the principal and/or immediate way in which they responded to a negative situation. (By negative situation, I mean one in which the child was displeased, either with me/my behavior or with any of the other children or their behavior.) Take Yisral for instance.
Yisrael is a 5-year-old child from a Russian family, fluent in Russian and Hebrew, with a small, eager face and an adorable lisp. High on the list of his favorite activities at the gan is to run back and forth across the room as fast as possible, while pushing a toy school bus in front of him. Yair, a quiet, sensitive boy and an only child, also loves that school bus. But if Yair were to express interest in the bus while Yisrael was playing with it, Yisrael’s immediate action would be to raise an arm to hit. It was almost like a reflex—every time, without fail, the arm would fling up (and more often than not, it would also come down in a series of aggressive smacks); Yisrael never paused to think about this action. If I came over to ask him to play a bit more quietly (that bus flying across the floor could make quite a racket) or join a group activity, the arm would go up against me, and he seemed to have as few qualms hitting me as he did hitting his peers.
Pepler et al. mention several familial and societal relationships that could have significant effects on the behavior of children of batted women. Of particular importance are the mother-child relationship and the sibling relationship, both of which I will examine in detail and relate to my own experiences and observations working with the children housed in the Haifa Batted Women’s Shelter.
While the violence of the fathers in these families can be detrimental to the well-being of the children and is often a source of severe developmental setbacks, a healthy mother-child relationship “can have a protective influence, buffering the effects of witnessing family violence” (Pepler). Pepler and his colleagues found that children whose mothers used less verbal aggression while speaking to them were better-adjusted, while children whose mothers were depressed and/or used a greater degree of verbal violence while speaking to them had a more difficult time adjusting. [CITE PEPLER AND MOORE 1998 and 1995]
Also having a significant effect on the adjustment and behavior of the children is the relationship they have with their siblings. Pepler et. al write that in families where domestic violence is present, sibling relationships are
very salient in children’s lives in both a positive and potentially negative sense. On the one hand, siblings can be a source of comfort and support. The close relationship between siblings may act as a buffer to the impact of marital discord (Jenkinds & Smith, 1991). On the other hand, the sibling relationship has the potential to exacerbate children’s aggressive behavior problems (Patterson, 1986).
Older siblings often take their younger brothers and sisters under their wing and attempt to protect them or watch over them when violence breaks out. This can certainly be beneficial to the younger siblings, but sometimes the older children will feel an unhealthy amount of pressure, stress, or responsibility. Another problem that may arise between siblings is a power dynamic that could mirror the father-mother power dynamic between the parents. This could also become a source of aggression (for older siblings) or terror (for younger siblings).
I haven’t conducted any formal determining to what extent familial and societal relationships have affected the behavior of the children housed in the Haifa Batted Women’s Shelter. However, I do have several months of observation, working with these children two to three hours a day three times a week. The bulk of the time that I worked at the Shelter, there were six children in the gan: Yisrael, Yair, Avraham, Ya’ad, Shirel, and Oranit. The children’s behavior did vary from day to day, and presumably based on factors such as: which children were at the gan; what activities I had planned for the day; what went on in the morning gan; what was going on in the Shelter or within their families (with their mothers and siblings); whether they had recently seen their fathers, etc. However, generally speaking the behavior of each child was constant and even predictable on a day-to-day basis (although I did witness a small number of long-term behavioral changes in some of the children). I also had some degree of regular contact with the mothers and was usually able to observe the ways in which the mothers and their children interacted at the Shelter. I regularly at lunch in the dining hall with all the families, and I was at the shelter for a total of more than 16 hours a week, during which I witnessed many mother-child interactions.
Yisrael is one child whose behavior did change during the course of the time that I worked there. In fact, he became more violent and aggressive as time went on. This was in direct contrast to Avraham’s behavior, which actually improved over time. As I mentioned previously, Yisrael, a fully bilingual 5-year-old, came from a Russian family. He had two older siblings, Violeta and Eddie, in grades 4 and 6 respectively. His mother was quite proficient in Hebrew, although she was much more comfortable in Russian.
From what I saw, Yisrael’s mother was a patient woman with good intentions, who always tried to make the best decisions regarding her children. She had several problems regarding Violeta, who had severe trouble adjusting both to life at school and in the Shelter, and who was struggling academically as well. She certainly had no easy time with Yisrael, either, who would often engage in violent or disruptive behavior in the gan. That said, for the most part her verbal aggression remained relatively low. Although she did occasionally scold her children, I rarely if ever witnessed her doing it in a verbally violent manner.
As the youngest child of three, Yisrael’s interactions with his siblings may have had more influence on his behavior than his interactions with his mother. His brother and sister, both significantly older, had one father; Yisrael’s father was the batterer. Violeta took up a lot of the mother’s time and energy, as she had so many adjustment issues, and this may have had negative effects on her younger brother’s behavior. These issues may have been genetic (manifesting themselves in maladjustment and poor social skills in Violeta, and in behavioral problems in Yisrael), or he may have acted out in order to receive more attention. Indeed, on several occasions I had to call Yisrael’s mother to pick him up early because he was behaving so badly and violently, and she was in the habit of taking her son for private walks when this was the case. Yisrael enjoyed these walks, and though it was probably good for him to have some one-on-one time with his mother, he probably also thought of being picked up early as a reward or a treat, rather than a punishment. At times, his bad behavior may have been a means to receive this treat.
Despite the ways in which having two older siblings may have negatively affected Yisrael, it is my impression that he generally got along well with both of them. In fact, there were certain times when Eddie was able to calm his brother down and get him to behave when the rest of us couldn’t. I have a difficult time chalking up Yisrael’s bad behavior to his relationships with his mother and siblings. While dynamics in these relationships may have played significant parts in determining Yisrael’s behavior, in the end I think it’s important to turn back to the mother-father and child-father relationship systems for answers.
Avraham is another interesting case. Bilingual in English and Hebrew, he is the brother of Yehoshua,, and infat. His mother comes from New Zealand and the family was in Israel for only a few months before Celeste and Avraham arrived at the Shelter. They were the only people at the Shelter who came from a religious background.
Avraham was one of the children who had been housed at the shelter the longest while I worked there. At first, he had a whole host of behavioral problems. He was an extremely violent child, often resorting to kicking, biting, hitting, and punching. His behavior improved enormously over the months that I worked with him, although at the end he still occasionally engaged in this sort of behavior. He was prone to tantrums, and he could me the calmest, sweetest child one moment and completely lose it the next moment. He was definitely a leader in the gan; the other children generally liked him, wanted to play with him, and listened to his ideas (even more than they would listen to me or the other students). He had a fabulous imagination, and loved to play pretend, often engaging the other children in enacting dynamic and colorful scenarios,
The relationship between Avraham and Celeste seems to have a more direct affect on Avraham’s behavior (in contrast to what we saw with Yisrael). First of all, Celeste used a much higher degree of verbal aggression in speaking with her son than did Olga, Yisrael’s mother, in speaking with her own son. For instance, on the first night of Chanukah there was a special Chanukah party for everybody at the Shelter. All the children received large paper cones stuffed with toys and candy. Everyone was seated in the dining hall for the lighting of the Chanukiah, the children’s faces bright and excited, all of them thrilled with their gifts. Avraham tossed his cone into the air, and it almost came down in my face—an accident. Celeste snatched the cone away from her son, who began to scream and cry, kicking the table and yelling, “I want my candy!”
“NO!” Celeste shouted, dragging Avraham up the stairs by the arm. “You’re not going to poke someone’s eye out with that cone, I won’t let you!”
Certainly not the best way to deal with the situation, especially considering that it was an accident. Not only did Celeste display a quick temper and high verbal aggression, she also used physical force to remove her son from the scene. It is easy to see where Avraham is learning much of his aggressive behavior; not only was his father a violent man, his mother is quick to react with verbal violence and physical force as well.
Celeste was one of the most difficult women at the Shelter. She was often depressed and languid, and didn’t seem to be improving much. She often needed to be reminded to take care of Yehoshua, or to pick Avraham up from the gan. She expressed a desire to return to New Zealand, didn’t speak much Hebrew at all, and generally seemed extremely dissatisfied with life at the shelter (or with life in general). Pepler et al write that “the problem facing both the mothers and children[…]is that women who are abused have few resources to bring to the extremely demanding task of parenting. Thus, in addition to the abuse they have to deal with, these women often experience a myriad of additional stressors.” This description seems particularly fitting for Celeste, who must have found it difficult to take advantage of the few resources available to her before she came to the Shelter, due to language barriers. She had difficulty communicating with the other mothers, and no doubt she missed home and was not adjusting well to life in Israel.
All this doubtless put Avraham in an extremely uncomfortable situation. His mother took little interest in him, and when she did she was sharp to him more often than not. He saw his father, a batterer, for half an hour twice each month. For a while there was some deliberation as to whether Avraham would go live with his father, but the boy violently opposed the idea. In short, he did not get on well with either of his parents, and there was nobody but Shelter staff to look after him.
Avraham loved attention; he loved being hugged. While I was working on grants, he would often meander into my office, climb onto my lap, and envelop me in a hug. He was always reluctant to let go, and seldom listened to the staff when, after hugging him back, they asked him to leave their offices. Much of Avraham’s behavior can be interpreted as pleas for attention. He was all but starved for love—his mother ignored him, his father was absent. His violent behavior, too, won him a lot of attention.
I suspect that he may have been sexually abused as well, as far as I could tell from his behavior. Avraham was constantly touching and hugging, but he would sometimes take this too far—touching or reaching for staff’s breasts, for example. He would ask questions and express curiosity about sexuality. Much of this behavior probably also stemmed from the fact that he came from a religious background, and before he arrived at the Shelter, he had little interaction with the female gender. On several occasions he would mount a child lying on the floor, as though he were humping him or her. On the most severe occasion, Avraham and Oranit succeeded in pulling down Yair’s pants. The morning kindergarten teacher found the two of them touching his penis.
It is sad that these children are suffering so much because of their unfortunate pasts. But for all six children in the gan, intervention has already occurred. By choosing to come to a Shelter, the mothers are working to put their lives and the lives of their families back on track. The Shelter helps the mothers to heal, to make healthy choices, to learn how to care for their children once again. Children, slowly but steadily, learn social skills, life skills, and good behavior. They, too, can begin to heal once they arrive at the Shelter.
Hopefully the rough sketches I have provided of two of the children has helped supply insight onto some of the problems faced by children of battered women, their mothers, and their caretakers. These problems are serious and real, but they can be overcome. Battered Women’s Shelters like the one in Haifa are saving lives and making a difference for victims of domestic violence. Working for the Shelter, although extremely challenging and often frustrating, was also a rewarding learning experience.

Works Cited

Pepler, Debra J., Rose Catallo, and Timothy E. Moore. “Consider the Children: Research
Informing Interventions for Children Exposed to Domestic Violence.” Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment, and Trauma. (2000): 37-57.


Works Referenced

Fantuzzo, John W., Wanda K. Mohr, and Megan J. Noone. “Making the Invisible
Victims of Violence Against Women Visible Through University/Community
Partnerships.” Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment, and Trauma. (2000): 9-23.

Jaffe, Peter G., Marlies Sudermann, and Robert Geffner. “Emerging Issues for Children
Exposed to Domestic Violence.” Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment, and Trauma. (2000): 1-7.

Levendosky, Alytia A. and Sandra A. Graham-Bermann. “Trauma and Parenting in
Battered Women: An Addition to an Ecological Model of Parenting.” Journal of
Aggression, Maltreatment, and Trauma. (2000): 25-35.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Hazmanah LeChatunah

Last week was my cousin Ben's wedding to his new wife, Dana. It was a huge wedding--over 450 people!--in a gorgeous wedding garden on a kibbutz. I love Israeli weddings. They're much more informal than American weddings, and people show up dressed in all kinds of things: jeans, sandals, outfits of pure white. Ben wore all white, and Dana had on a beautiful white dress. It was really special to be there, because five years ago, the last time I was in Israel, my mom and I went to his brother Shai's wedding. Shai now has two kids, and the oldest brother, Nir, also has two kids. The ceremony was beautiful, the food was delicious, and the dancing was awesome (even though I mostly danced with my dad...)

From Even Yehuda where my cousins live, my dad and I traveled to Jerusalem on an EXTREMELY slow bus that took almost three hours. We stayed at the Renaissance Hotel, a haven for black-hat religious Jews. The place was teeming with men with long, curly payis (sidecurls), women pushing strollers and dragging along six or seven (or more!) kids besides. My aunt Harriet was there as well, and my cousin Barry (who is VERY religious) and his family joined us for shabbat.

My dad and I walked around Ben Yehuda Street, a popular and trendy street in Jerusalem, and also made our way to the German Colony, which is where my friend Scott from the Ulpan is now living. He has a tiny studio apartment that's in a great location.

On shabbat, my dad and I walked from our hotel to the Kotel, and around the old city a bit. It was really far--we probably walked about 8 miles!

He flew home Saturday night, and now I'm back at the University preparing for my Hebrew midterm and spending lots of hours at the Battered Women's Shelter where I'm doing my internship. It's lonely now that he's gone, but I'm looking forward to my whole family coming for Passover, and I'm slowly getting adjusted to being on my own again.

Pictures to come...

Monday, November 12, 2007

Abba Ba!

My dad is here!!!

He got in on Tuesday, so I've been spending time with him in Haifa, Hadera, and this past weekend we went to Tiberias. I've been eating out with him, passing out in his bed at the guesthouse, walking back to the University from Horev (a far and uphill walk!) after dinner, etc.

We attempted to go to a concert (Ha Yehudim--The Jews) but it didn't work out so well because I forgot my ID at home and they didn't believe I was over 18! Even though my dad vouched for me (which was a little embarrassing). The venue was at Yagur though, so I got to show him around the kibbutz.

Tiberias was really interesting. It's one of the four holy cities in Israel (along with Hebron, Tzfat, and of course Jerusalem) and so there are LOTS of SUPER religious people all around, and synagogues on every corner! The city is on the banks of the Yam HaKineret, or Sea of Galilee. On Shabbat we wanted to go to synagogue, but everybody around us was so frum with their black hats and sidecurls, and we wanted something a bit less intense. Finally, we saw a man walking toward us dressed in white pants and a white shirt, with a simple white yarmulke on his head and no sidecurls. My dad asked him where HE went to synagogue, and he told us how to get to the Kabbalah Center.

So we went to services at the Kabbalah Center. It was, if nothing else, a really interesting experience. There was a lot of loud singing, banging on the tables, clapping, noise, and joy! That was the good part. There was also lots of hugging, which I enjoyed but made my dad uncomfortable. And there was a lot of mysticism, and people telling you about kabbalah and trying to reel you in. A lot of people are really into this, and it's done great things for them. There were families there, and young children (there were childrens books there on kabbalah, written by Madonna and translated from English into Hebrew and Russian).

Anyway, it was a fascinating experience, and I'm glad I went and tried it out. And also, the synagogue had a GORGEOUS view of the Kineret and the mountains on the other side!

Monday, November 5, 2007

Israeli Hospitality, or: Why Israel is the Best Country Ever

We do Shabbat dinner at home, and it's nice. We'll have my grandparents over, and maybe some family friends, and all of us sit down to a big, relaxing meal and enjoy being with one another. I did Shabbat dinner at Vassar, and it was also nice. Golan and I would cook all day and listen to obnoxious pop music, we'd have a wonderful service, and treat ourselves to my challah and Golan's pad thai. Something like that.

But let me tell you something. Every shabbat dinner I've ever been to has paled in comparison to the one I had last shabbat. There's a program here that one of our madrichim ("social activities coordinator"), Levi, runs. If you let him know by Tuesday of the same week that you'd like to be put with a family for shabbat, he arranges it. That's how it happened that Levi, Jim, Dave, Caroline, Mike and I all hopped on the last bus out of the university before shabbat (at 3:50 PM) and rode down to the Gurshone home.

So not only is this family willing to have six guests from the university over their house (with very little notice--Jim and I both signed up completely last minute), but they also have five children (four older boys and an adorable 8-year-old girl named Adi), three guests who have made aliyah after graduating from MIT, one set of said students' parents, and several other guests. We arrived at their home, talked for a bit, and walked to beit kinesset, which was about three minutes away. It was an Orthodox service where the women sat way up in the balcony, but Caroline and I managed to enjoy the beautiful kabbalat shabbat service anyway.

When we got back, all 20 of us were seated in their dining room and served:

  • two types of soup
  • cooked vegetables
  • cous cous
  • rice
  • two types of challah
  • wine
  • beer
  • scotch
  • chicken
  • turkey
  • beef
  • pad thai (sorry Golan...it's true!)
  • meatballs
  • a delicious pepper dish
  • personal apple pies
  • sherbert
  • cake
  • two kinds of brownies

Aside from all the delicious food at this humongous feast, the other major reason I so thoroughly enjoyed myself was because Adi, the 8-year-old daughter, sat on my lap or Michael's lap the entire time and quizzed us on Hebrew. If we got a word right, we not only got "nekudot" (points), but kisses on the cheek, too. How's that for motivation to learn a new language?!

The Gurshons were one of the nicest, most hospitable family I've ever met. Every other shabbat they open their home like this to complete strangers, and serve them enough food and love to last way beyond the next shabbat. None of us could stop grinning on the 45-minute walk home (no buses run that route on shabbat). We were all tugging at our suddenly-too-tight pants, too.

*

Today I started my volunteer position at the community center. Although most of us are tutoring Ethiopian children in English, my student isn't Ethiopian, because I believe the center and its services are open to anyone in the area. She's 13, very sweet, but very insecure about her English. We spent an hour just talking--about what she likes to do, her favorite foods, her classes at school (which don't exist so much right now, because the high school teachers are still on strike). It was difficult, because a lot of the time she got frustrated when she didn't have the exact words in English for the answer she wanted to give, and she'd just give up and answer "Nothing" or "Everything" to my questions; and a lot of my questions turned out to be yes-or-no questions in the end, even if I didn't intend them to be. It's also difficult because she didn't have a book, or homework, or any assignments, since the high schools have been on strike for so long. Next week I'll have to bring her a book, or some kind of game. Mom, the ESL teacher, do you have any ideas?

Monday, October 29, 2007

Struck Out

the Negev...the desert can be beautiful!




me, Danielle, and Anna having girl talk in teh Bedouin Tent


Sam, Danny, me (short!), and Mike hiking in the Negev--Mitzpe Ramon


view from the University


at the beach, in love with the fact that I can hop off the bus and walk to the ocean

And the strike continues. I'm getting antsy and anxious, worrying about when this semester will finally start and whether it will be prolonged or, worst case scenario, cancelled. The courses I'm not taking right now because of the strike are two courses that I need for my major requirements in order to graduate Vassar on time. I'm also restless because this has been the longest summer of my life. I finished my sophomore year in May, and its now almost November, and I still haven't exactly begun. On the other hand, I feel completely relaxed. I remember what its like to have three papers and three hundred pages of reading due in one week, and I'm thankful that I haven't been that stressed out in half a year. My Hebrew class, although challenging, only meets eight hours a week, and my Talmud class (which is so amazing!) meets for three hours a week. Aside from that, I haven't been very bored: I'd like to find a job (hopefully tutoring English), and I've already started two volunteer positions!


The first is with an Organization called Tzeva, which stands for Tzeirim Bonim Atid, or Youth Build the Future. It's an after school program for "underprivileged" children in grades 3 and 4. They are children who come from single-parent families, or poor families, or families of immigrants (mostly from Russia/former Sovient Union and Ethiopia). They're also kids who have social or academic difficulties. The way it will work is this: there is an hour of one-on-one tutoring and helping the chilren with their homework, and then an hour of structured social activity/play. Then there is a half-our staff discussion about the day and how things went. The way its working right now, though, is that we're spending the entire two hours with the kids just getting to know them through loosely structured activities.


I am the only person, volunteer or student, who is not a fluent speaker of Hebrew. Most of the kids know another language (either Russian or Ahmaric) fluently, because either they or their parents were born there. When I get embarrassed to speak because I make mistakes and am slower in my Hebrew, Lian, the head of the program, tells me the kids are all used to this because most of the people at home are not fluent Hebrew speakers. The program is EXCELLENT for my Hebrew. When Lian talks to us volunteers, she speaks in rapid-fire Hebrew, and doesn't slow down or baby me (because I'm the only one and everybody else understands perfectly). It's difficult in the beginning, and I may miss a point or two (or ten), but my ear gets adjusted and its really great for me to be exposed to the language like this. Like working in the gan yeladim (preschool) on the kibbutz, working here means that I have to communicate in Hebrew with the children, and I can't fall back on my English--because they don't know any!


The kids are all really sweet, but you can tell that they're not used to so much positive attention. They are thrilled not to be yelled at or beaten for two hours. At the very beginning of the program, on the first day we met the kids, one of the cleaning staff came into the room with her mop and started shouting in Russian, pointing her mop, finger, and big red face at this little boy. This is the way these kids are treated most of the time. Lian ran in and interfered, and setteld the situation more quietly.


During hafsakah, the ten-minute break in the middle of the program, we all went outside to play in the yard. There were all these kids hanging out there, on the other side of the fence, who had no place to go and nobody to take care of them after school. A lot of them were too old or too young for Tzevah, but they wanted to participate in our game of tag, and they tried to hop the fence. A guard ran down and chased them away, but its so sad to see these kids who are so neglected that they are trying to break into an afterschool program. And some of them are so young!


The school is in a really bad neighborhood in Haifa. Its okay arriving there, because its still light out, but leaving at the end of the program is dangerous and we leave together as a big group. Its so interesting (and sad) to be doing a program like this abroad, where the issues are the same as inner-city or poor areas in the States, but the causes and details are different. Russian and Ethiopian immigrants to Israel face many of the same problems as Hispanic immigrants living in city slums in New York, for example.


Today I also had an orientation for the other program we're doing. The tutoring (7th grade Ethiopians) will be in the immigration absorption center, so they showed us around today. Next week we'll be meeting with our kids!


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This weekend I went with ROSA (a friend of the family's from when we lived in Israel in 1989) to a "Shir BeTzibur," which is roughly translated as a sing-along. It was in memorium of Yitzchak Rabin, who was prime minister of Israel and assassinated in 1995. It was all in Hebrew, of course, so I didn't understand a lot of it, but there were speeches and stories about Rabin interspersed with songs sung by informal choirs and individuals. They had a screen where they displayed the words of the songs, and the audience sang along. At the end, Moti Caspi, a famous Israeli singer, performed, so that was pretty cool.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

There's No Water in the Desert

This weekend was our first tiyul (trip), and we traveled to the Negev, which is, of course, really hot and dry! We left at 6am yesterday (Friday), and stopped at this historic center where we learned about an ancient people who developed a trade route from East Asia to Damascus, and had all these really impressive ways of surviving for months in the desert with perfumes and spices and a caravan of thousands of camels! We saw some of the ruins of a few of the centers they had built on the secret route that only they knew of.

The bus then took us to Mitzpe Ramon, which is a gorgeous view of the Machtesh Ramon, a kind of huge crater in the middle of the desert that was caused not by impact, but by erosion. We went on a short (3-hour) hike through the machtesh, and then headed to a bedouin campsite for the night. We cooked our own dinner, had a campfire, roasted marshmallows, and went to bed because today we had to wake up early four our intense 8-hour hike through a huge section of the machtesh! It was a difficult hike because hiking in Israel is nothing like hiking in the American northeast, which is what I'm used to. Everything is desert and sand, there are no tall trees or shade, and you're under the boiling sun the entire time (even in October!). But we were prepared with four liters of water each, and we took lots of water breaks and made sure we were hydrated. We climbed up and down two mountains, plus did a lot of trekking on jeep trails and water pipe trails and other random trails all throughout the machtesh, and there were lots of incredible views of huge sections of the "crater."

I'm back at school now (and really tired!), and tomorrow I'm supposed to begin my two linguistics classes within the regular English department at the University, but there is some question as to whether or not classes will take place tomorrow because of a strike. In Israel, somebody is always striking. Last year it was the students, who didn't come to class because they didn't want tuition prices to be raised. Right now, high school teachers have been on strike for a good few weeks, so there are no high school classes, because teachers want a pay raise (and they are paid terribly--about 5,000 shekels/month, or a little over $1,000). And university professors may be striking for the same reason. So I'm not entirely sure when my classes will be starting.

I did start my Hebrew class though. I'm in class 6, which is the highest, and I think it's difficult--a lot more difficult than the kibbutz ulpan. But I'm sure I'll learn a lot, and my teacher is this fabulous woman who likes to talk to us (in Hebrew, of course) about her alternative lifestyle.

Lila tov!