Aquarium

I know I haven’t updated. I promise I will. Just let me finish November. Then I will explain how Thanksgiving went, in full gory detail. (It was awesome, by the way.)

 Meanwhile, this really made me laugh: http://xkcd.com/350/

Krav Maga, or Fifteen Guys and I

Wow. It’s raining. And it’s chilly and wet and awesome.

Seriously, after you’ve had about nine months of perfect weather – if you could call spring in Houston perfect, which it almost is – some weather that you actually have to fight is very welcome. And as I have all my stuff done, I have nothing better to do than make myself sit down and post.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

So I remember saying I’d talk about Krav Maga, so I suppose I’d better keep my word.

I walked into my first class, looked around, and said …. oh. As the title of this post might suggest, I was the only girl in the room.

Woot, I’m late for class

I know I promised to post about Krav Maga, but I don’t have very much time before class, and a piece on that subject would be slightly involved. So… if you want my random thoughts on the day so far, read on. If you’re looking for something profound, don’t waste your time.

I walked to the Neve Avivim quarter after my Hebrew midterm this morning, because the pharmacy is there, and I need to to get some salisomethingorother acid (I know the name, I really do – it’s just not coming to me right now) because apparently I have a viral wart on my finger, which stinks. It’s not painful or contagious or anything, but it’s the little things that drive me crazy.

It was interesting just walking through this suburb of Tel Aviv. I guess I never realized just how much more family-oriented this society is than that of the States. It’s probably because of the huge emphasis Judaism places on having a family – you’re not worth much as a person if you don’t have kids – and even though seventy percent (I think, don’t quote me) of the population is secular, the cultural values still carry over.

Weekend in the Golan, Pt Two (Pictures)

This is the part where I blither randomly before finishing the pictures from the Golan. For example, here is one of my current ‘To Do’ lists:

I went to church with a friend this morning, instead of going to the congregation in the evening. This church was composed mainly of foreigners, because it was run by an American evangelical ministry, and services were conducted in English. A couple from Sudan, who had fled the genocide, dedicated their newborn baby in the service. They had crossed Egypt to get to Israel, sometimes on foot, while being pursued – and while the mother was nine months pregnant. And apparently this is not an uncommon story, and a lot of refugees just don’t make it to Israel – they die along the way.

The main refugee concentration is in Eilat, and I’m probably going to go with a few friends some weekend to volunteer down there. Here’s Andi’s take on it.

Weekend in the Golan, Pt One (Pictures)

I have midterms to study for – akk! – so here are a few pictures from last weekend’s trip to the Golan, where there is one city, two ATMs, sixty volcanos, and 1,200,000 landmines. There is also a note to you wonderful TKD people at the bottom. Yeah, that’s right, I’m making you look at my pictures.

On second thoughts, I’ll do this in two installments, because I took an awful lot of pictures.

O Where Are You Going?

“O where are you going?” said reader to rider,
“That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Yonder’s the midden whose odours will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return.”

“O do you imagine,” said fearer to farer,
“That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?”

“O what was that bird,” said horror to hearer,
“Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease.”

“Out of this house,” said rider to reader,
“Yours never will,” said farer to fearer,
“They’re looking for you,” said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

-W. H. Auden