Belated First Post

I know--I procrastinate.
After being in Israel now for more than a month and a half, I've finally found the time and energy to create this blog. I figure better late than never, and I hope I'll have discipline enough to continue to update and document at least some of my experiences here. Bear with me while I neglect to post for weeks at a time; while I'm out in downtown Jerusalem or tanning on the beach in Herzeliyah or eating Shabbat dinner with my cousins, I might find little time in between.
Who am I kidding. It's sheer laziness. There's really no other excuse.

I write my first post from our hostel in Jerusalem, the Judaen Youth Hostel, which is situated way on the outskirts of town near the zoo and the Malha Mall. The location is less than ideal. We spend lots of money on cabs and buses to the center of town, while my friends on other programs are a short five minute walk from Ben Yehuda Street. The hostel itself, though, is pretty much a palace (our counselors, in fact, have dubbed it just that), complete with an outdoor pool, a basketball court, a gym, and a very-much-appreciated cleaning service. The building is new and enormous and clean, and the quality of the place makes up, somewhat, for what it lacks in location. Somewhat.

Specifically, I'm writing now on my laptop while I sit in my History of Zionism class (don't kill me, parents, I can pay attention at the same time!). Zionism class is generally worthwhile, engaging for the most part. Every Tuesday is Zionism trip day. Last week our class traveled to Rosh Ha'ayin, a city north of Tel Aviv with a large Yemenite Jewish population. We were guests in an old Yemenite couple's house, where we were fed Khat leaves (the closest any of us will get to smoking pot this year, as some boys pointed out), dried fruit, and popcorn. There, a few lucky students tried on the traditional clothes of a Yemenite Jewish bride and groom, yellow sequined hood and artificial peyos included (see image). After, we visited the town's Yemenite culture center, where a young professional dancer taught us Yemenite line dances. Lots of clapping and stomping and excitement. We then ate dinner (empty rolls of bread, cucumbers, and humus?) by a fancy, super-cool playground, and Daniel the Sweden showed me how to folk dance Swedish-style. It was a good afternoon.

Meanwhile, our class now is ending in approximately two minutes and a half. I'll sign out, and leave you with this piece of advice: Watch Saleh Shabaty. (We watched it last week in our Zionism class.) You'll laugh, a lot. It's quite absurd.