Yashar, Yashar

Dear friends,

I have learned my lesson about complaining when things are a bit dull. Just to spice things up, I had quite the eventful Shabbat.

One of my new friends and I decided to go to Ramat Bet Shemesh, a beautiful area outside of Jerusalem. We left early, with plenty of time to catch the bus from the central bus station. We arrived at the bus station at around 1:30. We joined the incredibly cramped, crowded security line, and we were pushed, shoved, and bumped for about twenty minutes before we finally made it inside. We found where we were supposed to buy bus tickets, but we were informed that we couldn’t buy tickets for this bus. The person behind the desk also told us that she didn’t know where to pick up the bus, so we wandered around the station for a while. We asked a few people, but they didn’t know where to get the bus, so we went back and asked again. Turns out that we were supposed to pick up the bus OUTSIDE. Bleh. The last bus was to leave at 2:30. Plenty of time, right? So we walked speedily outside, following the little map to the bus stop that the lady behind the desk drew for us. Unfortunately, my sense of direction failed me, and we looked at the map…backward. Oops. By 2:50, with the stop nowhere in sight, we realized that there was no way we were making that bus. We ended up having to pay a rather expensive cab fare to Ramat Bet Shemesh.

We arrived, and the family was lovely. I was pretty exhausted, but Shabbat dinner was very good. I happened to mention that I was thinking about coming home soon, nothing definite yet. After a little walk after dinner, I went to bed…and slept for nearly 12 hours. (That part was pretty fantastic).

The next morning, I went with one of the kid to walk an elderly neighbor over for Shabbat lunch. We’ll call her Mrs. Gold. Mrs. Gold is 88 and I really enjoyed walking with her. It was a pleasure to chat with her. In fact, after lunch, Mrs. Gold and I sat talking for quite a long time. She gave me lots of advice about life and told me stories about her life. After a while, the dad of the family walked back in and commented to Mrs. Gold with a wicked grin, “Did she tell you she’s leaving?” Mrs. Gold’s face transformed instantly from a sweet smile to an aghast frown. She then proceeded to yell at me for even considering leaving Eretz Yisrael. (Among her arguments were that since I’m 22, I should be a mother with five kids by now…my roommates and I wondered if that could include multiple births, because I think even someone who got married quite young would have trouble with the goal of five kids by 22.)

Anyway, getting yelled at by the nice old lady was a bit traumatic. I think she felt bad, because later she offered to read my palm. (You can email me and ask me what she said if you’re curious.) One of her first readings was that I am very sensitive, and my feelings can easily be hurt, even by a stranger. Nope, I’m not skeptical at all about her palm-reading abilities.

After Shabbat (and palm-reading sessions) were over, we made our way back to Har Nof. We waited a long time for a bus (or maybe it just seemed like a really long time!) When we got off, my poor sense of direction led us astray again, and we ended up walking pretty far in the opposite direction…in the rain. Whoops. We asked an Israeli couple to help us, and they said “yashar, yashar” (straight, straight). Just so you know, if you ask ANY Israeli for directions, they will always say “yashar, yashar.” Unfortunately, things are rarely actually “yashar, yashar”…hence getting a bit lost again. Fortunately, we eventually made it back safe and sound.

Quite a Shabbat. I’m not a fan of being yelled at. Luckily, it doesn’t happen too often.

In other news, I suppose I should make a formal announcement. Completely unrelated to little old ladies yelling at me, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to come home. I have so loved my experience here in Yerushalayim, but I am ready to come home and process what I’ve learned. I’ll be back in just two weeks. I can’t wait to see all of you, my dear friends at home!

Love,
Rachel