Camping in Galilee

Last weekend I joined the young adults on a camping trip to Galilee.  I like to act nonchalant about it, like, "oh, we're just going camping... in Galilee..."  Of course I thought we were going to be roughing it because they were warning us about the Palestine Viper, and camel spiders...but we went to a campsite where there were bathrooms and showers, and a kitchen.  Nevertheless, it was amazing.

We drove North from Jerusalem, and crossed through a desert.  The sand there is a different color than the sand in, say, New Mexico, or Arizona...  It is a very light tan, almost pinkish color; very beautiful.  We saw the Bedouin villages.  I was riding in a car, so I didn't expect to see camels, or donkeys, but we saw them.

This camel looked especially sweaty and tired.  I felt sad for him because he was there for tourists who wanted to had a quick ride while stopped at a gas station.  So he spent most of his time sitting on concrete, on his knees.  I realized camels have weird legs.  It's like they have two knees on their back legs.  Since I have never really observed a camel, this was new to me.

the next thing I knew, we were amidst these buttes, which were so majestic.  After a while we passed through some fertile valleys.  Then we passed by the city of Jericho, which isn't at all the original one found in the Bible (if you remember, that one was destroyed).  From my understanding it was the third Jericho.  I didn't get a good picture. 

We passed by date palm farms and beautiful landscapes. 



When we arrived, a group of us went to Capernaum to see some historical sites.  Capernaum has a double meaning; either house of Nahum, or house of peace.  It is a tiny site on the Sea of Galilee.  It is also where Peter's house is believed to have been.  They built a church around it, and then another one, and now a third church sits on top of it.  Here are some pictures:

 Here is the entrance!

And this is the church built on top of St. Peter's house.  It is on stilts, so you can go up to it and see the ruins underneath.

Here are the ruins under the church.

And Here's Dustin next to the statue of St. Peter. 

I was helping Daniela with food when Deniel Geppert (there he is again) told everyone where we were going.  I was just along for the ride thinking we were going hiking, and the next thing I know we are at Capernaum, a "sacred" site.  As I walked up to the church, the monk looked at my legs and pointed me out the door because I was wearing shorts.  I wasn't allowed in.  Had I known we were going to go to a holy site, I would have covered up... So that put a damper on my day.  I suppose I could have just kept walking in...  what would that monk have done?  Tackled me?  That's a funny thought.  But I couldn't be so irreverent.  That's just not me.  While I do not embrace their standards, I at least want to respect them in their territory.

I was sad in this picture because they didn't let me in the church.  Oh well.  Everyone told me I wasn't missing much.  The ruins and scenery were more exciting.  There are more pictures on my facebook page.  (not enough time to post them all!)

So After that we went to the Mt. of Beatitudes (hopefully I can post a panorama of that scene soon).  The view of the Sea of Galilee was incredible!  Daniel was nice enough not to try to take us in to see the church there (because I would have had to wait outside with my sinful shorts on...).  So we focused on the view and left.

And after that, we went swimming... in the SEA OF GALILEE!  So I add that to my list of interesting things I've done in my life.  I will admit, I felt awesome, but I kept thinking of the show River Monsters and wondered what crazy creatures were lurking in this sea (It's really more of a lake: it's freshwater and it's way smaller than lake Michigan, but still special in its own way).

That night we had a bonfire.  It was really neat!  Israeli marshmallows are kosher, and not very good...
Daniela and I sang "Con Poder" in Spanish, per our tradition, and then her and the group sang a lot of songs I don't know, and it was great!  Several of the songs were in Hebrew.  Marcell taught me how to count to ten in German. And there was chocolate.  I was happy.

Sometime soon I'll have to post about the second day when we hiked through the wilderness of Galilee and came upon a canyon with fresh springs and beautiful waterfalls (an oasis in the dry wilderness)... The sights were of epic proportions.  It's already been a week since we went on this trip... That's how behind I am...  I've already swam in the Mediteranean sea now (add that one to my list as well!).  More posts and pictures soon!

Daniel Geppert

I named my blog after this German guy who is married to this wonderful Canadian woman who vaguely reminds me of my sister, Thérèse.  He's the youth director and his wife is the children's director of King of Kings.  He is also managing the applications, so he went over the guidelines with us for being volunteers here.  He has been very nice and friendly to the both of us, and his wife, Jalene, is so awesome and energetic and crafty and knows how to sew...  I don’t know too much about him except that he found my blog somehow and read it, and was upset that I didn't mention him anywhere.  So I decided to write an entire post about him.

Tonight he night he made…  Schpetzle (I am probably majorly misspelling that word)… for Matt and Daniela and Dustin and me.  It's a German noodle.  It's funny because I asked him earlier this morning in staff meeting what he likes to cook the best, and he said, "Schpetzle" and it took me forever to learn how to pronounce it somewhat decently and the next thing I know Dustin is calling me this afternoon to tell me that we're invited to the Daniel's house for dinner, and when we get there, he's making schpetzle.  Marj sent me with a huge dish of brownies to contribute to the meal.  She just handed me the entire thing that she made yesterday so that I wouldn't have to go get something at the store.  What a sweet person!  Her generosity reminds me of my mother.  It is comforting.

He made the dough and pressed it through a noodle… press?... And boiled it and then mixed it with spices and cheese and mushrooms and then baked it.  It was quite delicious and unique.  Ironic that I was able to experience a distinctly German food in Israel.  Daniela helped with the salad.  Jalene was sewing when we got there, which made me excited because I've been learning to sew and was happy to find a fellow enthusiast.  She was able to entertain guests while finishing a sewing project for Vaikko and preparing a craft project for her group of kids tomorrow.  She is so nice and so beautiful.  She really brightens any place with her mere presence.

I should mention that I went grocery shopping today for the first time with Daniela.  I think Jewish store owners are some of the funniest people.  This guy at the Asian grocery store was just as witty and endearing as the jeweler down the street.  Then we went to an underground grocery store.  It was fun, but it made me realize how nice things are in the US; the store just wasn't clean and bright like the ones I'm used to, though it wasn't so bad.  And I am no expert at Hebrew, so I wasn't always sure what I was buying… and then the conversion rate from dollars to shekels is not exact in my head--only ballpark estimates--so, I was hesitant to get some things.  Meat here is expensive, as is honey.  Dates are cheap, so I bought this "date honey" as Daniela called it.  100% dates mashed up.  We'll see if it's any good.  I mean, I like dates, so I can't imagine it would taste bad in any way.  I'm going to use it in place of honey.

I should also mention that I had my first staff meeting today with Dustin.  We worshiped together and gave news updates and then prayed for prayer requests.  All in all it was quite an uplifting meeting, unlike most.  I think there were perhaps only three or four native Israelis on a team of twenty or so people (two I am not sure what nationality they are yet).

So back to Daniel…  Dustin seems to really get along with him, and it probably helps that Matt knows them both, so he's the thing they all have in common.  I could tell Matt was excited and Dustin was really happy when the three of them were together.  Seeing the three of them joking together made me very happy. 

After the meal tonight we played "Settlers of Catan".  Daniela won, though I seriously thought Daniel would win because he seemed to have a pretty good strategy.  I am not the best strategist, so I obviously did the worst the whole time.  But he was explaining rules to me a lot of the time.  And once Dustin got the hang of it, he gave me some advice.  Dustin is really great at strategy, so he learned quickly. 

Their apartment is right above a street full of pubs and restaurants that are open super late, so the noise in insane.  Especially since everything is stone, the noise just echoes.  Actually, that's how all the streets are here.  There's nothing really soft anywhere, except trees and merchandise.  Except there is a grassy park.  But most everything is stone, especially the old city: the stones on the ground there are so worn that they are shiny, and very slippery...

Again, I digress…  Daniel Geppert.  There.  I mentioned his name.

First Volunteer Day

I put in my first volunteer hours at the prayer tower reception desk this morning.  I was only there for an hour and a half, and there is nothing to do, really, other than be there for people who need assistance.  There wasn't much going on, so I was updating my blog and responding to facebook messages. 

A Swedish couple came in asking for help with the PA system.  That was about it. 

Then I sat in Matt's office perusing Pinterest for another hour after eating lunch (lox sandwich, yum).  Dustin was doing some web work.  Daniela came in and invited me to go with her and Cynthia (her mom).  We went to a jewelry store first.  The salesman was the nicest guy.  Daniela was wondering if sterling silver was real silver and the guy kept saying, "look at the window," because there were the words "STERLING SILVER" in a large English font.  He kept saying, "This isn't old city!" (apparently the shops are not as honest in the old city because it's easier to fool tourists).  I really liked him.

Here we are on the train: me, Cynthia, Daniela, and Becky, who is British, and is a pro at toting her little Ezra around.

Then we rode the train just because Cynthia has never ridden a train before.  We just rode up all the way, and then down all the way.  This Jewish woman (probably younger than me) gave me the evil eye.  She was staring at my shorts and then held my gaze for a good while to get the point across that she did not approve.  It was a very ugly look on her.  I just raised my eyebrows.  It's like all her beauty withered away in that one judgmental, I'm-better-than-you, stare-down.  Ugh.  Religion.

Maybe I deserved it; not because I was dressed immodestly (my shorts were just a few inches above the knee), but because I am pretty sure I have given that same look to other women who I deemed "unworthy" because of their clothing.  I don't think I've ever given such a long-lived, eye-to-eye demeaning look of disapproval, but I may have given a passing glance, and I've judged inwardly.  I've definitely put my female students in ministry through some difficult times in an effort to "improve" their modesty.

I was a very judgmental person.  And I actually thought I was better, like I was somehow more worthy than others who didn't share the same standards as me.  I've learned how ridiculous that is.  Christ is our righteousness (Romans 4:5).  If our actions earned us salvation, or made us better than others, we wouldn't need a savior.  But I suppose that the Jews don't see it that way.

The ultra orthodox Jewish ladies always keep their knees and elbows covered.  They are always really well-dressed and wearing skirts.  Some of their clothes are so beautiful, and handmade.  The most popular outfit I see is the tanktop dress with a three-quarter length sleeved shirt underneath.  Their hair is always covered either by a sash, or in many cases a wig (doesn't that defeat the purpose?).  There is this specific style wig that I see on women here and there: it's a dark, layered, just past the shoulder length.  Daniela was telling me that some women just shave their heads because its easier.

We went to the Shook again and I bought some cheese, some tea, and some amazing baked goods.  Cynthia is leaving tonight, and It's sad.  Marj made chicken and noodles with a giant pan of brownies.  It was comfort food.

Sidenote:  I met a really interesting Canadian woman named Marty who is a journalist.  I learned that the prime minister of Canada is an Evangelical, and has personally encouraged Netanyahu, and has become a friend of Israel.  I thought that was really awesome.  I responded, "That's really neat since everyone here has been telling me how difficult it is for Jews to live here since everyone around them wants to kick them out."  she looked confused when I said that and began to explain how Jews are quite welcome here, and it's quite the opposite.  Interesting.

Still First Shabbat (photos)

 

Dustin and I went with Marge and Dave to the Old City.  I definitely felt like I was in Jerusalem when I saw it.  It looks like a castle from the outside.

We walked through the "Christian Quarter", which is really an Arab/Muslim market.  It was beautiful, with the kinds of clothes, tapestries, and leather goods you could only find in Jerusalem.  It was another series of alleys, but much closer together, and not so much food on tables, but little shops built in to the walls with everything hanging overhead. 

Christian Quarter: there's Marge and Dustin!

Here's one of the little shops.

 

Then we went to the wailing wall.  It was really amazing.  A lot of women were there, only a few men.  Apparently there's an activist group of Jewish women who come protest once a month: they wear the men's garb, and do all the things only men can do, which insults the Jews, really.  It's basically feminists.  There were a lot of birds flying around, probably nesting in the wall itself.

Luckily no one hassled me about operating machinery on Shabbat (my camera). 

Shortly afterwards my camera died, and we went through the Jewish quarter, which I didn't take too many photos with my phone.  It was the Shabbat and all…

Marge was explaining a lot of things to me and Dustin.

I was explaining to her my thoughts last night about how it would be difficult to live anywhere but here for an orthodox Jew.  But she said that it's actually harder to live here because there is so much oppression.  Jews are not wanted here, and the surrounding people just want to "push them into the sea".  So strange.

Anyway, I am so tired, I think I will take a nap.

First Shabbat

Technically Shabbat just started at sunset (7-ish) today, so tomorrow is really the day of rest.  I walked with Marge and Dave (and Dustin) around the area.  We went to a schwarma place; BEST SCHWARMA I've ever had in my life.  And Daniela says that place wasn't the good one!  Then we got drinks and sat at the pizza place because Dave wanted pizza.  He got a tuna and onion pizza, because you don't mix cheese with meat; it's just not kosher.  Except you can mix fish with it...  Every day I learn a little bit more about this culture.  There was this table of leather straps--nothing very special about that--but we learned they had scriptures on them, and the Jews wrap them around their arms a special way while reciting a prayer, a form of the old scriptures that required them to wear the scriptures on their foreheads and arms.

I also saw tons of yamakas with different radical and punk-ish designs.  For some reason that struck me as funny.  It reminded me of the buttons you pin on your backpacks that only punk kids or activists and politicians wear these days.  I half expected an anarchy sign on one.  That would be doubly ironic.

I also learned about Jerusalem syndrome, but I'll talk about that later.

So Marge and Dave took us to the Shook (shuk, like u in "you"), which is the marketplace: a series of narrow alleys full of tables piled with goods and packed with people.  Apparently Friday afternoon is the most packed time because Shabbat starts in the evening and everyone is getting their last minute things in order.  Marge and Dave are fast-paced walkers, so we only really got a glimpse of it all.  But our time was somewhat limited.  We bought flowers to bring to Matt and Daniela's because we were going to their place for dinner and that's just what you do when you go to someone house for Shabbat.  Marge and Dave were going to someone else's place, so they got flowers too.  And then we stopped at an olive stand.  Marge told me it's okay to just taste them.  So I tasted several varieties and bought a small container… for now…  They were all very good, and much more flavorful than what I'm used to.  Apparently you don't eat olives straight off the tree.  They have to sit in brine for a while in order to be palatable.  I had it in my mind that I was going to eat a fresh olive straight from the tree and it was going to be the most amazing olive I've ever tasted.  Nevertheless, these were really good, so I am not at all disappointed, just disillusioned.

I can't wait to buy some fabric.  We passed by several fabric stores and I hope I find something beautiful.  All I have found in Minnesota has been from the mainstream stores, which is nice, but not really what I'm looking for.

I also learned that if you want to buy something here, you gotta push your way to the cashier, because there is no such thing as a line.

So Matt met us on our way to the apartments and we went with him around 2-ish to his apartment.  Dustin and Matt hung out, and I stayed with Daniela.  We walked around the church/mall because she wanted to give some flowers to her friend for her birthday.   I met the pastor (Wayne), who happens to be from Canada, and who happened to be at Cedarview church in Newmarket, Ontario when he received his call to Israel.  He was there in 1980.  The funny thing is that I went to Cedarview when I lived with Trish.  But that was in 2001-2002.  Small world stuff!

So then I helped Daniela prepare a delicious Mexican meal for nine people.  We chopped up a bunch of stuff, put it in a pot, and added meat.  We served it over garlic rice.  It was delicious.  I can't remember what it was called: a Mexican word with an implication about everything being chopped.

Six thirty rolled around, and the meal was just about done and we all stood to say grace.  The Shabbat siren blew.  It was the loudest siren I've ever heard.  It sounded more like a giant trombone that pierced the entire city with its blast.  And it went on for at least thirty seconds, if not more.  It was the warning blast, indicating that everyone had to get their work done now.  That's when all the shops locked up and closed down, and the ultra orthodox's last chance to catch a cab home.

Matt said a prayer in Hebrew and we shared communion before we began.  It was really nice to sit and eat with everyone.  It felt like a holiday.  I met Greg and Sarah, and their 9-month old Zechariah.

I learned that Jerusalem syndrome is actually a thing that happens here.  It is a syndrome in which a person comes to Jerusalem and suddenly thinks he's a prophet--one of the witnesses prophesied about in Revelation--or the person just gets really obsessive about Jerusalem being a sacred place.  Apparently its validity is debated in the psychological community around the world, but here in Israel it is not (because it happens a lot).  It is simply dealt with as a psychological disorder.  I don't really know what all that entails, but there are people in the mental institutions here that suffer from or deal with this.  Interesting.

So that was today.  As we left and waited for the elevator, I noticed a button that was red.  Apparently even pushing a button on Shabbat is considered work (because you are operating machinery), so the elevator to the right continuously goes up and down, stopping at every other floor and opening the doors so ultra orthodox Jews can just wait and walk in and then get off when it finally stops at their desired floor. 

The Jewish religion is so accommodated here.  There are two McDonalds' a block from each other: a regular one and a kosher one (no cheeseburgers, people!).  Although I feel that the pushing of the button being considered work is going overboard, at least the religion itself is respected enough to be accommodated to that level.  I can only imagine how difficult it must be for a Jew living anywhere else.  You'd almost have to compromise, or you'd be extremely tempted to do so, and I suppose that would make for a very heavy heart, and a longing to be in Israel.  No wonder I met so many Jews from Brooklyn, New York, each having come to Israel multiple times.

This city is not just Jews though.  I've met more different nationalities here than Israeli!  It's a lot like the US in its diversity, except its all concentrated in this city, and the people are foreigners, not so much born here like many of the different nationalities in the US.  Most of the diverse nationalities I've seen in the US are second and third generation Americans.  So it is so strange to me to be exposed to so many different cultures directly.  I have mixed feelings about this place.  I'm hearing a lot about what the Jews are experiencing and going through here, but nothing from an actual Jew, so I'm still not clear about what it's actually like to be a Jew in Jerusalem.  In Romans, Paul talks about the fact that the gospel came to the Jews first, but they rejected it, and if the rejection of the gospel by the Jews enabled the whole world to then take part in the new covenant, then how much more would come out of the acceptance of the gospel by the Jews?  It's a beautiful thought.  

But I don't truly understand what that means, other than the fact that they have the best insight into the meaning of the scriptures.  They of all people would best be able to help interpret scripture simply because scripture was written by Jews; people who shared their ideas and cultural mindsets.  I've already gained insight into some scripture from hearing some of them answer questions in Matt's young adult group. 

First Day

I couldn't sleep last night so I slept all morning here. I accidentally called My mom at 4am her time (2pm mine) because I forgot the time difference.  But at least she knows I made it safe and can tell everyone else. 

I met our other apartment mate, Rebecca.  She's really cool.  She sounds American, though I never thought to ask where she was from. (Dustin is telling me Montana)

Marge showed us the church and the prayer tower.  I didn't know that the church was a revamped old movie theatre under a mall.  It was so cool.  And it's a multi-level mall that circles around a small central courtyard.  Most of the shops look a little dingy from the outside, though there were a decent amount of people populating them, and there were several empty ones.  There was an ugly stray cat who had gotten a piece of raw chicken out of a trash bag, eating it like a paranoid epileptic.  Marge just loves the poor cats.  She's always talking to them, saying, "poor kitty", and giving them food.  What a sweetheart. 

The view from the tower is so beautiful.  It's definitely another world here. 

I learned that there are different kinds of religious Jews, one kind in particular are the ultra orthodox.  They are the ones with the curls on their temples.  They are taught to look away from women (so as not to be tempted I suppose).  It feels a little dehumanizing, but at the same time, I can't really be mad because at least the desire for righteousness is there.  I suppose I have more grace for these hyper-legalists than I do for the somewhat legalists in my own church…  but Christians who are legalists are like an oxymoron.  I explained the looking away part to Daniela's mom and she said, "well, that explains it," because she thought these guys were just hateful.  She is a very friendly and social person.  She says hello to everyone in the room, so naturally she was insulted.

We went to the young adult group that Matt and Daniela lead.  The worship was great (of course!  It's Matt and Daniela!).  They had the coolest pastries to eat, and there were people from all over.  I met Germans, a guy from Poland, people from London, a girl from Finland, other Americans, other Canadians, and only a few Israelis.  There were so many different accents.  Matt gave a teaching on the gifts of the spirit and the young adults were very knowledgeable.  They gave input that showed they knew the historical context of the scripture.  It was more in depth than the pat answers I'm used to hearing.  I felt that the average young adult pastor wouldn't really make it very far in this setting.  At least he or she would be challenged to dig a level deeper.  You really have to know your stuff.  They asked logical questions and didn't settle for generalizations.  If you don't know, you can't just say fluff, or just give your own interpretation; they won't buy it.  You just need to say, "I don't know." 

Dustin talked to a big-bearded young white guy most of the night, haha.  I never got a chance to learn his name.

But yes, Matt's teaching was encouraging and reminded me that it's God is in me who does the work, so there's no reason to doubt myself or compare myself to anyone else. 

I also met a quantum chemist; a German named Marcell.  I am around musicians, theologians, and pastors most of the time, so I was fascinated by what he does for a living.

Then a group of us walked to a little café called "Cofix" which sold drinks and pastries, all for a fixed price of five shekels each.  I got a carrot juice, which I've never seen sold in any restaurant in the states.  My mom used to make it, so I had to get some.

The streets were packed with people on a Thursday night, which I learned it's because tomorrow is Shabbat.  No one works at all from 6:30pm on Friday until 6:30pm on Saturday.  All the shops are closed (well, most of them) on Shabbat, so everyone was partying while all the shops and cafés were still open.  "This is their Friday night" Cynthia (D's mom) said.  It's weird to see drunk Jews with their yamacas on (did I spell that right?) and prayer tassels.  I agree that drunkenness is not good, but it's just not frowned upon so much here like it is in the US.  I suppose I expect "righteous" people to be calm and quiet and smile a lot.  But that's a weird picture of holiness, honestly.  

The streets aren't as wide as, say, downtown Minneapolis, and the buildings aren't taller than ten stories high (except maybe a few).  Everything is made of Jerusalem stone (so it's all mostly tan-colored).  I did not see any sky-scrapers anywhere, or buildings covered in glass.  And generally, on the street, the surfaces did not seem so right-angled and straight (even though a lot of them were), and the stones are well-worn, so everything seems soft even though it's hard.  The roads we walked down weren't really for cars though.  The streets for vehicles are paved like any city I've been to.  But the city is all on hills that continue on as far as the eye can see, and all the buildings are tan and sometimes red, with trees and plants growing in between, so the visual impact (from my bedroom window) is just pure beauty. 

(this is the actual view from our bedroom window)

And the weather was amazing all day.  I was slightly cool in the evening, but otherwise there was no difference in temperature from outside to inside.  It was all perfectly comfortable.

I ate pre-packaged schnitzel from Marge's freezer today.  Dustin and I each had a sandwich with a schnitzel and cheese.  Then we ate puff pastries with potato in them (at the young adult group).  Then we had pizza from a pizza shop near the Cofix café.  But I'm starving right now because it's almost 6pm Minneapolis time: dinner time.

I'm excited because I'm going to help Daniela cook for Shabbat tomorrow.  I feel like it's a holiday!

The Trip to Israel

Tuesday morning we were running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to get ready for our trip to Israel.  We hadn't had much sleep the night before and we ate nothing until right before we left.  We took the train to the airport checked in our bags and made it through security with little trouble (except for finding the tiny Air-Canada line, haha).  Our flight was a little delayed so I was able to call every single one of my siblings including my parents before the plane took off.  I even talked to Matthew!

I told everyone that I had a 20-hour flight sandwiched in between two 3-hour flights, but we realized later that we had not accounted for the time change.  So it was really a 9 hour flight, which wasn't so bad.  We flew from Minneapolis, to Toronto, to Istanbul, then Israel.  I had to pick up a Canadian chocolate bar, while in my country of birth. 

The flight from Toronto to Istanbul, Turkey was the longest one.  The plane was huge with three rows of three all the way down the plane.  I was very much preoccupied with staring at the unique faces, and listening to all the different languages being spoken.  People are just beautiful to me, and it makes me feel most alive when discovering new cultures. 

They served us two full meals--dinner and breakfast.  Everything \was beautifully packaged and made me feel like I was eating a gourmet lunchable for adults.  They served chicken and potatoes, with a side of shrimp on some lettuce with a weird tartar sauce, cold green beans marinated in tomatoes and olive oil (yum), and a super-sweet cheesecake.  Even the silverware package had a slice of cheese wrapped up in it with butter, moist towelettes, and salt and pepper.  It also came with this package of lemon and olive oil, which I doused all over my salad with salt and pepper.  We were so exhausted, but we couldn't sleep for more than hour intervals.  Then suddenly it was light out and they were serving breakfast: strangely textured egg mixture with a par-boiled tomato, cheese and a fruit cup!  My sleep-deprived stomach wasn't sure about the eggs.  (I'm weird about eggs in the morning).

On the way down, we were fascinated by the mottled farm landscape.  In the states you have mostly squares.  Here it was all kinds of shapes.

We transferred in Istanbul quickly since our flight had been delayed.  Security for getting on the plane to Israel was insane (though understandable and appreciated).  There were at least seven people posted checking passports and boarding passes.  Dustin and I had printed off our tickets at home, so one girl stamped the paper, another guy ripped off the scan bar and kept the paper, the third girl was confused since the stamp wasn't on my ripped off corner of a scan bar.  She had to give it to another security guard who found the other half of the paper and matched it up.  But he wasn't sure if he had the right paper, so he asked for my passport again.  All the while, the other guy who ripped the paper was saying, "It's okay, it was stamped.  It's okay."  After staring for quite some time, he said, "okay." and handed it back to me.

We piled in a bus and got on the final plane.  I felt so tired.  We watched a red-haired rabbi vent his frustration to a stewartist, saying  that his family of six had been given seats too far apart because of flight confusion.  We were served another dinner a la Turkish Airlines.  This one was chicken with masala spices, red lentil patties, cooked eggplant (marinated like the green beans), another salad with the yummy olive-oil/lemon mixture, and chocolate mousse.  It was all cold.  The eggplant made me a little queasy, not because it tasted bad, but I think I might be allergic or something.  We also tried a turkish drink called "ayran", which to our dismay was milk with salt.  I'm too used to milk drinks being sweet.  That caught me off guard.

We got off the plane and entered customs.  We chatted with a funny couple from Brooklyn, New York, the husband looked like he was a rabbi of some sort.  Of course we were surrounded by rabbi-looking men (with the curls and the hats… I'll learn what all those thing are called soon). 

The passport agent asked us many questions.  We could barely hear him so we kept looking at each other confused.  When we told him we were staying for three months, he kept asking why.  Apparently visiting friends and touring Israel seemed "suspicious".  He mentioned something about another suspicious situation… He wasn't being forthright about it, but we got the idea that he thought we had mal-intent based on something that happened recently with other people staying for three months.  He kept saying, "I know you're not here to work, so why the three months?"  We just kept saying, "Our summer vacation is three months long…"

So he sent us to the director of internal affairs (or some title involving internal security).  We sat feeling pretty terrible because we thought they might not let us in.  After  a minute or so, the agent who questioned us earlier came in, handed our passports to the internal affairs head, and he asked Dustin to come in.  He asked the standard questions and let him go.  They didn't question me, they just gave us both out passports with 3-month visas in them. 

Then the agent came to us and said "I apologize for the confusion, I thought you might be involved with something, and we had to check on it, but we were wrong.  It's nothing personal.  I apologize."  He reached out to shake my hand.  I shook it and smiled, "It's alright."  As we walked out he said, "A little advice, when coming to Israel, or any country, just tell us where you are going and why right at the start."  He may have mistaken our hardness of hearing for suspicious behavior.

What stuck out to me was that he apologized.  Being a Canadian in The US, and traveling across the border many times in my life, I have never encountered a nice border patrol, Canadian or American.  I have even been mistreated at times.  I understand border patrol has to act tough because they are enforcers, but there is a limit, and most people never treat you nicely, and they never apologize when they've put you through heart-attack inducing stress.  I was very shocked by this man's gesture of humility, and I very much appreciated it.

We drove home in the dark, frayed nerves and all, in a shuttle bus called a "sherut" (which happens to be a homonym for bathroom in Hebrew, so I was a little apprehensive to ask for a bathroom in the street… I had to ask a lady at the desk to make sure I had the right word…).  I had fun trying to decipher the Hebrew that the driver was speaking to various passengers.  I know very little, and I got excited when I understood.  

So we haven't really seen Israel yet; just the night lights that make it resemble any other city.  Although in Jerusalem, what we could see of the architecture was beautiful.  Marj and Dave greeted us like we were their own son and daughter and showed us our room.  The apartment is fairly high up and we can see a view of the south of Jerusalem.  I can't wait to see it in the day time.  I'm sitting on the couch at 2am (6pm Minneapolis time) and I can't sleep.  Even after all this sleep deprivation…  You'd think I'd crash.  But alas, my time-zone prevails...  I was laying there in bed with my mind spinning.  So here I am getting all these thoughts out, hoping this will help me sleep.  I wanted to get all the details down. 

People are beautiful.  It truly brought me joy to see all the new faces and to get so many glimpses of foreign culture.  I am really excited to live here for the next three months. 

The Mothers In My Life

Me and my mom, a few years ago.

My mom (Michelle Miller) is basically a queen in terms of motherhood.  I'm just saying: her (and my dad) somehow raised nine kids who are now all very intelligent and awesome people.

This French Canadian woman birthed five girls and four boys out of her loins.  I calculated the total time she was pregnant in her life and it adds up to almost seven years.  I could never be pro-choice, because if my mother considered convenience a virtue, I wouldn't have been born. If she had stopped at the average family size, three to five kids, I wouldn't be alive... If she stopped at seven kids, I would not be here on earth.  I am her eighth child.  And then she birthed my little sister.  If she had stopped with me, I wouldn't have had Anne to hang out with all my life.  It would have been one miserably lonely existence without Anne.  Her and I were always together.

Shortly after Anne was born.  (I'm the blonde girl in red)

Before I continue, I need to make this disclaimer:  I'll be posting about my dad later (because it's not father's day yet) so, don't get me wrong, he's an amazing man, and he had a part in all of this.

My mother is one of the most generous, least materialistic people I know.  She will give you the shirt off of her back and the food out of her fridge.  She always made sure we ate healthy meals growing up and kept it interesting, making a variety of ethnic foods: Portuguese soup, French gallettes, Korean ribs, Indian rice, lamb roasts, fried rice and stir frys, many large pots of delicious soups, and salads as often as possible.  Thankfully she taught me many skills in the kitchen (my husband appreciates that!).

Her first language was French.  Now she also speaks English, Spanish, and Portuguese.  She has a degree in Christian counseling, and dabbles in real estate.  She also has had many hobbies including floral arrangements, soap-making, lotion-making, and is an expert (more or less) in vitamin supplements.  I have many horrid memories of swallowing piles of vitamins with breakfast, which she always made for me all the way through high school.

My first year away from home I went through two weeks of depression, only eating microwaved mini triscuit pizzas, because I would no longer be eating my mother's cooking.  Then I realized I had lots of skills, and bought my own groceries and cooked delicious meals from then on.  I was thankful for those skills, (and I have to give my sisters credit for teaching me many of those skills as well).

My mother has a tenacious spirit, a jovial demeanor, the goofiest sense of humor, and the most beautiful smile.  It's that Vezina smile that her and all her sisters possess that I love.

She is a woman of Godly devotion.  Though her path has sometimes taken unexpected turns, she always stayed true to what she believed to the best of her ability.  I am learning that beliefs can and should change as we grow and mature in our faith.  And that is what has happened in her life.  

I am thankful for my mother so much and I want to take a moment to honor her for her perseverance.  One child can make a person crazy; the nine of us drove our parents out of their minds, haha.  I am so thankful to have so many siblings.  Each one of them is a blessing in my life.  They are all highly intelligent, caring, and level-headed people, each having overcome major adversity in their lives and have always been examples to me in how to live life.

On that note, I want to say a few things about my big sisters.  Each of them has taken care of me in motherly ways and I am a better person for it.  

Parents, me, Adrian, Patricia, Gregory, Bernadette, Anne, Therese, Matthew, Vincent

Patricia has always been there for me in every way.  I lived with her and her husband Phil for a year when I was fourteen.  Both of them taught me a great deal about respect and trust during that time.  She is such a joy to be around and is one of the sweetest women I know.  Now she is a mother of six amazingly talented kids and is still an example to me.

Therese was my biggest cheerleader in life.  Anne and I used to run to her bed in the mornings when we were little and she would shower us with much needed hugs and words of affirmation and love, calling me sweetheart and Anne cutie.  When I would visit her as a teen, I'd always go home with something from her closet (some items I still have and love). She encouraged me in my art and my education and is now a wonderful mother of one gorgeous boy.

Bernadette cooked many meals for us kids when she was in high school.  I still remember her spaghetti, which is to this day my favorite spaghetti. She is an example to me of sacrificial love.  She truly has a servant's heart.  I remember once she sent me a check for $60 when she knew I needed it, when she was in college and in debt.  She was there for me when my brothers would get the best of me.  And her humor always lightened my seriousness (I was a very serious kid).  I think I cried the hardest when she left for college because I relied on her very much.  She is now a mother of two super cute boys.

I also want to give honor to my new mother-in-law, Sharon Brant, who intentionally took me for a night out at the movies and welcomed me into her family.  That gesture meant the world to me.  She is such a strong, level-headed, sensible, and organized woman.  I aspire to have at least half the organizational skills that she has.  I am amazed at how much she gives to those she loves; how much sacrifice and thoughtfulness goes into her love.  I really miss our talks in the kitchen.  I'm so blessed to have gained such a wonderful new mother in my life.

I also can't wait to get to know Dondi Wise better.  Dustin and I recently met her just before we moved to Minneapolis.  She is the precious woman who gave birth to the love of my life.  What a selfless act to have given up her flesh and blood so he could have a better chance at life.  Yet another reason I will never be pro-choice.  Had she not given up Dustin for adoption, I wouldn't have been blessed to marry such an amazing man.  Thank you, Dondi for all that you went through.  I can't imagine the pain, but I am so grateful.

Finally, I want to give credit to Carolyn Ulrich.  What a spiritual rock she has been to me in my recent years.  She's helped me through so much and brought so much peace to my heart with her unconditional love.  Her perspective has been so valuable to my life.  Her presence in my life has brought so much healing in ways she will never know.  

There are so many more women who have made an impact in my life.  I know God loves me because I have been blessed to have been mothered by some of the best.  Happy Mother's Day.  I hope that this day you truly know how important you are and how loved you are.  Thank you for who you are in my life.  I am so much better for having known you.  I love you!