Transitions

I arrived here one month ago full of anxiousness and excitement for my first big non-student adventure. I came here to work and to be some sort of professional someone. But since the word professional is a bit off-putting to me, I’ll define my purpose as such: to be part of a movement, to meet inspiring people, to challenge myself and my society to grow; and in the process of doing all these vague and wonderful things, I hope to develop some concrete skills that I hope will only enhance my ability to contribute to the development of a more just world. But in order to really discover my place here and make the best use of my fellowship, I have to be able to find balance and comfort as I make these transitions, of which there are many. The first major transition that I came up against was the transition from communal living within a supportive framework to apartment life, which I’ve now understood to be the “do it yourself” kind of life. For better or for worse (I lean towards the better side), I have been spoiled by my long tenure in my beloved Berkeley co-op. I never had to purchase furniture and worry about how to deliver it and carry it up 4 flights of stairs. Here, my first week was spent sitting on the floor of my completely barren room, pouring over second-hand websites trying to find the cheapest bed and closet and hoping that some knight in shining armor would appear with a truck and a helping hand. In the end, it worked out a bit like that, but much less glamorous and much more frustrating. In the co-op I never even had to go grocery shopping and the kitchen was always well-stocked with yummy shared food and supplies. Now, I push a grocery cart down the street for a couple blocks and pray every night that I’ll come home to find my roommates cooking (because then they offer me some dinner). Otherwise, the food is primarily individual which means that I’ll have lots of tummy aches from the random snacks that I consume as substitutes for quality meals. (I see all the mothers and foodies reading this now and having a panic attack, but don’t worry, I’m exaggerating for the sake of poetic license). Also, in the co-op there were always people around the house, which resulted in constant stimulation. Now I live with just 2 other women my age and aside from the noise of the busy street below our balcony and outside our windows, the place is mostly still and empty. They are really kind and wonderful roommates, but they also work and study a lot and have their own social life that exists mostly outside of the apartment. So allow me to paint a mental picture for you. I live on the main road in the Talpiyot neighborhood of Jerusalem. Essentially that means that I live in the wholesale furniture district on the Eastern edge of the city. I have my own room with white walls, and for anyone who knows me even a little, you should know that I need color in my room, and in my life for that matter. My roommate Noa studies philosophy at the Hebrew University and loves musicals, improv, and cooking. My other roommate Avigail listens to good folksy music, likes postcards with pictures of the U.S civil rights and hippie movement, and invites me to reggae festivals on the beach and in the desert. Basically, it’s a pretty good situation, and all the low points are just part of the adjustment process. I have to remind myself sometimes that I just moved to the other side of the world and it’s not supposed to be easy and familiar. But once works starts to pick up and I get a few more fun activities into my weekly routine, I might even be too busy to write this blog, so I guess I’m grateful that I have a lot of down time by myself to process this first month more completely.

The other big transition and source of stress is related to language and communicability. While I do speak and understand Hebrew quite well, better than your average American Jew I guess, the incredibly high standards that I set for myself seem to be hurting me rather than helping. I’m constantly stuck deciding whether or not it is more important for me to resort to English and understand everything and express myself clearly, or if I should fully immerse myself in Hebrew and run the risk of missing words along the way and adopting a much more reserved and quiet personality. Ideally, I would like to change those options so that it doesn’t have to be all or nothing and so that I can find the courage to ask questions, explain to people that I am learning, and use Hebrew as much as possible. Currently, my style has been to whip out my Israeli accent and pretend that I’m always in the know, OR (with my roommates and some people at work) get lazy and seek comfort in the fact that they speak English fluently. For now, I’ll work on taking my own advice to always seek balance. Moment of pride: I have been reading and responding to emails in Hebrew at work lately and although I’m super slow, it’s good practice and I haven’t yet had someone write back and say that I didn’t make any sense.