O Jerusalem

I didn't think I could love this place. I didn't believe that I could enjoy a big city. I didn't know I could find beauty in a place so cramped, so dirty, and completely without mountains. I thought I would love being here for what I'd learn about the Bible, for the people, for the experiences, but not for the current, living, breathing city that surrounds me. Somehow, all those things, the millenia of historical past, the remarkable students I live with, the current situation, all combined to create a love of this place as it now is.

I get this city. I understand it in and out. I know my way around. I give directions to foreigners, I know how, not necessarily to blend in with the crowd, since everyone can still peg you as Mormon, but how to at least act like the crowd. I love the intersection of three world-wide religions, and the way the devout of each respect the others. One of my favorite things to do is to stand at the Western Wall and just feel. I really can't explain just how much I love this place and love these people. But is it hard to understand, when Christ loved these people so much himself?

I admire the clean newness of the Jewish quarter, even though the reason behind its brand new walls makes me ache. I love my Palestinian neighbors. I love having my 100 closest friends just an arm's reach away from me at all times.

I love this adventure, and I love how it's made me grow. I understand the Jehovah of the Old Testament, the Christ of the New Testament, and his atonement better than I ever thought I would. I have learned how to have fun in new ways, how to travel, how to enjoy a city, and how to be myself even when everything familiar is stripped away. And those are perhaps the most important things.

Thank you, Jerusalem, for broadening my horizons, for building my testimony, and for introducing me to...me.

The Beautiful Jerusalem Center

If you have any desire to understand this remarkable place I'm in, I'd recommend watching this video. (I tried to get some of you to watch this before I left. If you didn't, shame, shame on you).

One of the remarkable things about being here (there are so many!) is not just living in Jerusalem, but living in the Jerusalem Center itself. Everything I could need is under one roof, including all my guy friends (le gasp!). There's the gorgeous auditorium for concerts and Sacrament Meeting with a fabulous organ and fabulous view - which you can't see in this video, but you can see in the picture below:

Our cafeteria, our classrooms, our gym and weight room, the forum for informal group events, the student lounge with tvs, study rooms, loft, snack shack, and computer lab, secret nooks and crannies, library open 24/6, it's all here. And living here is divine. I have everything, and everyone, at my fingertips, with no distractions worse than blogger and google+ and Disney movies. This really is heaven for me. See if you can understand just a bit after watching the video. And get your heart torn out in jealousy by the view out my balcony window. Can you believe it? Yeah, me neither. But it's for reals.

Snapshots of Perfection

There is an amazing woman I am proud to say I know. Through her blog, I follow her on her adventures in the U.S. and now Italy. Once upon a time we went to high school together and shared colorguard experiences. She's now gone on to become a wife, mother, and amazing artist, not necessarily in that order. But reading her words inspires me to live a more rich life and to follow my righteous desires. And today she wrote about one of her snapshot perfect moments, those that let you get a "picture of heaven." Here are some of mine, in actual snapshot form

I have so many of those here. We've been told, time and time again, that we're all here in Jerusalem for a reason. Someone doesn't end up in the Holy Land after countless applications, plans, deliberation, leaving behind thousands of dollars and many belongings - student or adult - unless you were meant to be here. People don't wander here by chance. And I am beginning to understand that one of the reasons I've been brought here is for those snapshots I've been taking in my mind.

"Pile up enough of them, and you have a picture of heaven," Paige said. Well, I'm making my picture of heaven, here. I'm not sure why I'm lucky enough to be given the opportunity to live through a heaven on earth. I'm not sure what will be expected of me afterward because of this blessing. But for now, I'm more than willing to enjoy what I've been given and try my hardest to keep those worries about the future where I left them: at the gate of the Salt Lake International Airport.

Yad Vashem

Today our Jewish and Israeli Studies teacher, Dr. Ophir Yarden, took us to the Mount of Remembrance, the location of Mt. Herzl, Israel's national cemetery, and Yad Vashem, the state's Holocaust memorial. Yad Vashem was...sobering, to say the least. This was the first holocaust memorial of any sort that I'd visited, and the amount of suffering and cruelty inflicted by human beings upon one another, and in such an emotionless fasion, is entirely uncomprehensible to me. Every story is fraught with pain, heartache, and grief. For every account of a family reuinting, or a "Righteous Gentile" saving a child, a family, or thousands, there are countless stories of hoplesness, of children torn from mothers' sides, of fathers, siblings, neighbors sacrificing themselves, and often in vain, as those they saved for a time only perished later.



The Museum

Yad Vashem's Museum is constructed of various halls with different stages of Holocaust history in each room. And in those rooms, there are video screens playing interviews with various survivors. While I listened to dozens, the two that affected me the most were the accounts of girls who were seperated from family as German soldiers came to their homes in the night, one losing her father, the other losing both her parents and being left in charge of her little sister. These stories were especially poignant to me as I've learned about the sacredness of families, and have been missing my own family so much. The thought of my father being taken away from me, knowing I'd never seen him again, hurts too much to dwell on.

A Memorial to the Children

There are dozens of memorials at Yad Vashem in addition to the museum; memorials to the Ghetto Fighters and Holocaust Survivors, memorials to children, to "Righteous Gentiles," to every individual involved in that dark time of human history. The memorial to the children pictured above symbolizes a life cut short, as the pillars are all broken off. How could soldiers steel their hearts against the anguished faces of children? How were they able to continue actions that would ruin or end the lives and break the hearts of so many of them?

Inside the Memorial to the Children

This memorial was one of the hardest to visit. Each dot of light inside represents one of the children killed in the holocaust. All is hushed inside, and as you walk through the darkness, a voice reads a list of the names of each of them. So many lives, so many futures, that never had a chance to be.

The Memorial to the Concentration Camps

Yad Vashem takes its name from a section of the book of Isaiah (56:6) that promises the righteous with no posterity a "place and a name (translated from yad vashem), better than of sons and daughters. I will give unto them an everlasting name, that shall not be cut off." The memorial is intended to be the posterity, the legacy of those who have no one to carry on their memory. And they are indeed remembered.

Herzl's grave

Yad Vashem sits on Mount Herzl, named for Theodor Herzl, who is buried there. This mountain is the opposing pole to the Western Wall, the secular pilgrimage site in contrast to the spiritual. It is made "holy" by the sacrifice of the millions of lives in the Holocaust, and the life that Theodor Herzl spent in realizing the establishment of the state of Israel. Though he never saw it come to fruition, he is the first great thinker, philosopher, and politician to drive for the Zionist movement and the establishment of a Jewish state. Those who live in the state of Israel have Herzl to thank. And many do, with his grave receiving hundreds of thousands of respectful visitors each year.

Humans continue to amaze me with their depravity and their inspiration. I can't fathom how humans can inflict the ravages of the holocaust on one another. Shouldn't the sight of a human face, one that is shaped like yours, has loves and emotions like yours, give enough pause for one to reconsider what you are about to inflict on them? And yet it didn't. But at the same time, I wonder and marvel at those people who kept their will to live in spite of all that. In the face of hatred and incredible cruelty, they found enough to love and to hope for that they continued on. And today, we remember them, and remember the friends they lost, and pray for peace not just in Jerusalem, but in the world.

Eating our Way through Jerusalem

Our happy group at the Rockefeller Museum

Who knew it could rain so much in Jerusalem? Today it was, in fact, supposed to snow, but unfortunately, it didn't make it down this far south (unfortunately because I'd take snow over rain any day). We got the rain. So much of it, in fact, that it drove a few people back inside. But my group perservered, determined to find something satisfactory to do indoors or else get soaked trying. We started at the Rockefeller Museum (colder inside than outside), a building that houses artifacts that aren't part of the Israel National Museum collections.
From there we went to the Jewish Quarter to get some hot donuts.

Becca loved her Sambooki Donut. Can you tell?

They were not hot, but boy were they delicious. At this point, it was nearing lunch, so we went out in search of real food. Holy Bagel was suggested, and Loie decided she wanted to split a bagel, so we shared a zatar bagel sandwich topped with garlic cream cheese, mushrooms, onions, and cucumbers. It was perhaps the most delicious thing I've eated in recent memory. It was exactly what I was craving, and I didn't even know it.

This photo bomb brought to you by Dylan Bates

Then we stopped in at Awad's for shwarma for everyone, and I was peer pressured into getting a falafel pita sandwich, which I never regret. Awad is great - makes especially delicious shwarma for us, gives us stuff for cheaper than normal, and always brings us falafel balls and sauce for free when we come and he has fresh falafel.

Schwarma and a hookah bar. Excellent combination

From there we went to the Austrian Hospice to warm up, since we were all soaked and freezing. It's a good thing they're used to weary and bizarre travelers, because I'm sure that 6 sopping college students plus bags and discarded shoes scrunched onto two couches for warmth must have been a strange sight indeed.

"I can make myself really, really small when I want to." - Madison

Once everyone was sufficiently thawed, we set out for the light rail line, hoping to get some good views of the city while staying dry, not to mention getting off our feet. Dylan was really impressed with this form of public transportation. Amusing.

Our last stop was the Hurva (Hebrew for "ruins") Synagogue. Synagogues built on this site have been the center of the Jewish community in Jerusalem since the 13th century, and have been destroyed and rebuilt three times, most recently rebuilt a year ago. It is a symbol of Jewish presence in the Holy Land, and of continuing the Jewish history of Jerusalem and building upon the past (and has a gorgeous view from the top).

Sometimes these boys pose well. I swear.

At that point I made my way home, only to find that my roommates, Trace, Cassidee and Amy were about to go out to dinner in the Mamilla. So I joined them in hitting up West J for the evening, starting with Spaghettis for dinner,

crepes for dessert.

Huge, delicious, and shared by Amy Penn. Gracias.

And shopping in between We finished at the McDonalds, where Trace grabbed ice cream and Sarah and Claire got an approximation of hot chocolate, and we were picked up to head home. All in all, quite satisfying, and much too full of food (if possible). But at least it was Jeru food.

Happy Arizona Statehood Day!

I'm a little disappointed to not be celebrating the big 100th anniversary of Arizona's entrance into the nation with my family, as we celebrate Arizona Statehood Day every year with Mexican food and AZ flags (oh, and all that Valentine's stuff, too), much less in the United States, but I can't really complain, seeing as I'm in Israel, and everything, I mean everything, is more exciting here.

We did celebrate with delicious candy in class (so illicit!), Valentines-stuffed mailboxes, and cookie grams, not to mention the obligatory, Center-scheduled Palestine party where we ate Palestinian food and learned Palestinian dances. We are continuing the party with studying for two (two! And it's not as if the professors don't know our exact schedule) midterms tomorrow. Somewhere in there we're going to plan a Valentine's dance (us American kids are so starved for the usual goings-on of a Provo singles' ward, apparently).

Pictures to follow. I hope your celebrations were satisfactory.

Neot Kedumim

I currently smell of campfire smoke after my field trip adventures at Neot Kedumim today, and I love it. I'm tempted not to shower just to keep that scent, as it is likely my last whiff of it in the Holy Land (kidding about the not showering part).

Neot Kedumim is a biblical garden/park. The intent of the place is to demonstrate what the land of Israel would have looked like during the time of the patriarchs and the early Israelites, and boy is it beautiful.

Pounding hyssop

We started by picking and grinding hyssop, which was used in the bible for rituals and purification.

My Sheepherding group. We dominated.

We got a chance to herd some sheep. On foot. Without a dog. How did they DO that their whole lives??

Making popped wheat ("Abraham's popcorn")

For lunch, we made homemade pitas and popped wheat, which actually is eerily like popcorn. We did all this over a fire, in a beautiful, shaded forest of old, tall, trees. That's probably the closest I'll get to the atmosphere of the American West that I love so much for the rest of this semester. Le sigh.

Dr. Harper and J Rowdy called each other up when getting in their FT gear this morning

My matching professors. Goofy as heck, but I love the men and women who teach us at the JC. We really get the best of the best.

We found a reservoir (pond) for skipping rocks. First time in such a long time.

After lunch it was time for a walk around other parts of the garden. While we waited for everyone to catch up, Dylan, Amy, SB and I skipped some rocks and admired the old-school mikvah.

Jason and me at our lunch spot. Jason is one of the coolest people on this planet. I mean, just look at him... need I say more. Every time I am around him I feel indescribable feelings. They are so indescribable that I can't even describe them. I love everything about him... and more. I will cherish this picture forever and ever. I have posted it here in hopes that you will cherish it too.

In a sukka

Thanks Jason. As I was saying, we went on our walk and encountered numerous sukkot or "tabernacles." These are built during the Feast of Tabernacles, a week in which Jews live in these booths or sukkot in remembrance of the dwellings of the children of Israel during their wanderings in the wilderness. According to the Talmud, the sukkot can only be built with date palm fronds, etrogs or citrons, and branches from myrtle and willow trees.

Jarom and I shared a citron

This guy's a Torah scribe for a living

We ended with a presentation from a Torah scribe. Scribing for Torahs is a full-time job, and not even that, but a lifestyle. There is a remarkable amount of work and a staggering number of dictates that go a long with when to work, how much to work, what kind of ink to use, etc., etc. And people thing Mormons have too many rules!

Exhausted bus riders

In the end, tired out from a day full of sun and food and walking and adventure, we all slept on the way home. Except for Wes.