The Lowdown on Teaching

So, a good friend and loyal blog-reader recently asked me to explain what it's like teaching here in Beit She'an.

I've been purposely scant on the details of my teaching situation and tried to give more highlights and anecdotes, rather than delve into the meaty particulars of my teaching placement in Beit She'an. 

I'm hesitant to really get into the finer aspects of my daily teaching experience since I haven't wanted to address point blank what is developing into an increasingly negative situation. Once I call it such, it's harder to cope with having nine more months to get through.  Plus, I wanted to take the high road and not descend to fingerpointing and announcing incompetentence. I've been trying my best to stay positive and focus on giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, as well as the opportunity to turn things around - which still could happen. However, in the meantime, my time spent here in the pursuit of teaching has been frustrating, to say the least. 

First, some background: I was assigned to a school whose English teacher is currently a long term substitute teacher, that is just as new to the school as I am. She has big shoes to fill - last year's English teacher was much loved, very respected and competent at what she did. She was able to hold order in the classroom, connect with the students and teach them English well. 

This is no easy task to accomplish when it comes to the Israeli school kids at my school. The politically correct way to phrase it is to call them "energetic", but that's a positive spin on their rippling energy that's tinged with bouts of violence, aggression, unwillingness to compromise and a general desire to just be wild and untamable. 

Maybe it has something to do with knowing that when they turn 18 they will head into the Israel Defense Force. There's an Israeli saying - "you can get your education back, but not your childhood"; so in the pursuit of fulfillment of their child-like wonder, the kids go balls to walls, full throttle crazy on a regular basis. This makes it very difficult for their teachers to achieve anything, least of all, educating them. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not actually sure that they even accomplish that. 

From what I've observed - and seems to be specific to my school - the teachers are typically women, who dress in the latest fashions and trends, wear high heels and nice makeup. In a county where you'd find yourself overdressed if you stepped outside of the dresscode of flip-flops and jeans, I'm not sure how school teachers became the epitome of the country's fashion palates. Maybe it developed as a survival response to the craziness that regularly surrounds them, by thinking that "if they're all crazy and don't give a shit, I might as well wear my 5 inch heels to school, since everything is going to hell anyways!" But this is my pure speculation. 

Anyways, from what I've observed, on a regular basis, some teacher is always screaming, some student is always talking back, both boys and girls punch each other, troubled students act up for attention, teachers struggle to maintain authority and dole out discipline or extreme measures, which entail a teacher pulling out her cell phone and calling the parents in the middle of class if a really bad student won't "Shek-et va shev!" (Be quiet and sit down!!!)

There's been only one time in a classroom where I've wondered if I am safe: from the moment I walked into the class, one little boy was highly volatile, capricious and could go off at the drop of a pin. He would instigate the other students and get them riled up, then play the victim with the teacher. It doesn't help that his mother is a teacher at the school, so he obviously knows that he can get away with whatever he wants with no real repercussions. He's clearly very troubled and can successfully manipulate himself away from any real consequences. In response to his behavior, the English teacher had moved him to sit next to me, but this did not reign him in and he really did not give any fucks. All of a sudden, another boy said something that sent the troubled boy leaping over the table to punch him in the head! The teacher had to haul him out of the classroom and he did not return back to the class. It was hard to watch and I'm not sure how I feel about the stopgap measures used to control this kid, while there's clearly a bigger problem that's being avoided here. 

Plus, having to adjust to this climate as well as seeing boys punch girls is hard to get used to. The girls can really hold their own and hit right back, but there's an American part of my mind that just feels that this crosses a line. However, I am not in the classroom to dole out discipline, nor be the moral compass, so all I can do is merely observe these interactions. 

So these are the conditions I face when I go to school every day. It's not exactly the cheery, welcoming environment that you'd find in America, to say the least. This makes me wonder if the students look forward to coming to school, or find it to be a rewarding experience. It troubles me that some kids who are really smart and clever are getting pushed down into the system and receiving very little recognition for how outstanding they are. 

Again, specific to my school, the level of English proficiency is very low. I can probably count on one hand the students that I could have a short conversation with in English. Most students are still struggling with letters, sounds and their understanding. The teachers are at a similar level of English, but ashamed to show this, so they don't converse with me much. This makes talking about even the most simple topics a challenge, resulting in making me feel isolated and unable to interact or convey anything. One day last week, someone locked me in the bathroom from outside and it was almost a relief to be stuck somewhere quiet and with the perfect out from awkward and strained interactions. I stayed there for a few minutes until another teacher chanced to unlock the door and force me back out into the outside. 

Obviously navigating this brand new world of Israeli school is not something I'm naturally succeeding at, so it would be wonderful to have an adept guide! In that respect, I'm left hanging, since the teacher who is assigned to host me has no idea what she is doing and astounds me daily at her level of ineptitude at teaching. In the first days, I was really open minded to her teaching ability and thought that she had been given a tough break - she seemingly has the know-how, experience and knowledge to teach English to children. But after her soaring rendition of Goldicock and the Three Bears (which I barely made it through without laughing) to a class of Special Education children, I've begun to think that she really has no idea what she is doing.

I think it's a two pronged problem: she's overwhelmed and struggling to adapt to a new school setting, as well as still getting a grasp on English. On top of that, I've been thrown into the mix and she has no idea how to utilize me and use the volunteer resource that I present. My first couple of weeks have been spent shadowing her through the four to six classes that she teaches a day, occasionally correcting her spelling and supplying a legitimating factor as she attempts to be an authoratative figure. She does this by asking me in front of her classes if she is teaching the English right  and obviously since she is trying to hold control of the class, it's difficult to call her out and say "snake isn't spelled s-a-n-k-e" or  "there's no such word as pophotoes" or "the plural of woman is not womans" because I don't feel comfortable calling her competency into doubt in front of the kids she's trying to teach. But this is tough when I see the students copying down her mistakes in their English notebooks. I suspect that the students are picking up on her lack of ineptness and that's one reason why they act up so much. Her response is a lot of yelling and a disporportionate amount of time and effort goes into maintaining order, rather than productive learning. What lessons she does manage are typically unimaginative and lack any energy. It's funny since when we do have a brief discussion on lessons afterwards she'll express that she really believes in games, music and a number of different approaches in learning, however, I have yet to see that in action. I'm beginning to see that she's much more talk than action and really lacks on any follow through. 

In terms of interactions and expectations with me, she's given me very little to go from. I told her from the get-go, that I was here to make her life easier in whatever form that might take. But she had no suggestions on what that might look like, or what form it would take. In fact, I would have no idea that my experience was so lackluster if it wasn't for meeting the fantastic English teacher from the previous year. She had a plethora of teaching experience with ITF fellows and upon meeting her, she asked if I had introduced myself and been able to begin interacting with the kids, which is how it was done in previous years. My first days were the exact opposite: the English teacher proceeded as business as usual and tried to ignore and tone down the fact that I was in her class. She made no introductions about me, even though every student was curious about my name, where I was from, age and why I was there. A month later, there are still students asking me these things. I also received no tour of orientation of the school and till this day, I'm still finding out where certain rooms are, or have no idea which class is where. 

This has all come to a point where the substitute teacher's struggles and inconsistencies are being noticed by more than just me. The principal asked the veteran English teacher to come in and provide some support and guidance. This Monday, she joined us in the classroom and singlehandedly spearheaded dividing up the class into different groups for each of us to work with. So today for the first time, I got to take a group of students work with me on their English! It was a lot of fun to finally interact with them, see their English level, play some games and learn some Hebrew from them! 

But this also really revealed to me how there is a real lack of expectation and execution, as well as a frustrating amount of miscommunication taking place. The substitute English teacher does not follow through on any preparation and clear lesson plans and does not take responsibility for it. 

As you read this and have your own thoughts, I don't want you to think that this is the norm. Not all schools, teachers or students in Beit She'an are like this. The other ITF teachers at other schools all work with very capable and intelligent English teachers, who are excellent and really great at what they do. They have great students and are being utilized and working hard. 

Also my issue is being addressed and should not be allowed to continue this way. My coordinator has gotten involved and is aware of the situation and I believe it will not be continuing in this vein. The concept is that I'm here to provide a supportive English teaching resource and if it isn't used in this location, it will be elsewhere.

When I go into school bright and early tomorrow morning, I'm optimistic that the situation will be different. Between my coordinator and the veteran English teacher, expectations have been laid out and I hope a new leaf will be turned over! Hopefully it's not too late to hit the restart button! 

Postcards I Forgot to Send

You may have noticed from my lack of presence on this blog, or from the photos I put up on Facebook that the end of September was spent traveling around Israel! 

This began with an epic running start when my co-fellow and friend Jessica and I suddenly decided to hit the road from Beit She'an and we had less than three hours to pack a bag and catch the one bus out of town!

When you live in a rural and religious town like Beit She'an, all transportation out of town shuts down over the holidays and your plans can get waylaid for a couple of days until the holidays pass and things resume as business as usual. In terms of Sukkot, this meant that we needed to make a quick exit from town in order to maximize the time we had to travel.  

The first destination was a bus station in Afula, where we were picked up by one of Jess's friends from her birthright trip and drove us the rest of the way to Tel Aviv for an epic and late night out in the city. It was really a shock to finally be out of Beit She'an and in the middle of a modern and vibrant city. Tel Aviv does not stop for Shabbat or the holidays, all types of bars and restaurants were open and everyone was out. People looked nicer, shops had more expensive merchandise and I discovered Israeli "toast", which is a bagel that's been panini pressed after you filled it with your choice of cheeses, veggies and sauces. It's amazing, revolutionary and exactly what you need if you're up and drinking till 4 am. 

Jess's birthright friend Keren lived back in Nazareth, so she drove us almost two hours back to her house, where we all fell into bed at 6 am and slept till noon. When we woke up, we piled back into the car, picked up Keren's younger sister Sharon and headed to the beach in Haifa to relax in the late day sun and surf. The beach was beautiful and once we had had enough, we put the blankets back in the car and then walked to a restaurant on the beach to enjoy some hummus, salad and eggplant as the sun set. 

We were still recovering from our late night in Tel Aviv, so we took it easy that night and stayed in, watched a movie and checked out the blood moon on the horizon over Nazareth. 

The next day, Jess, Sharon, Keren and I all got into the car and headed southwest to Caesarea (pronounced Quesariya) the ruins of a seaside town built by Herod the Great around 25-13 BCE. It's very well preserved and you can see huge mosaic floors, great examples of columns, a hippodrome, restored amphitheater and great seaside views. We took full advantage of the great location and goofed around and took many pictures. 

The next day in Nazareth, I woke up and felt restless. Jess and I were supposed to  head to Haifa and then spend the night with another friend of hers from birthright. However, I spontaneously decided that I wanted to mix it up and spend the day as planned in Haifa, but go south that night to Netanya. Netanya is the location of another ITF program, which is a lot larger and enjoys the perks of living in the vicinity of the Tel Aviv bubble as well as along the glorious coast of the Meditterean Sea. It was quick and easy to let some of my friends in that program know I'd be heading their way and find a room to stay in, since many people were away traveling around Israel as well. Two friends from Netanya even decided to head to Haifa that night and meet me before returning to Netanya! So with plans in place, I spent the day in Haifa exploring the beautifully symmetric Baha'i Gardens, eating sushi and traversing the third largest city in Israel. 

I'm kind of in love with Israeli sushi; it's no culinary achievement, but they get the general concept of it and just really go for making the rolls very large and filled with all things tasty. When it comes to vegetarian rolls, they don't have any idea what that actually means, so they just cram all the vegetables that are available into a sushi roll. This means I can have a tofu-sweet potato-carrot-cucumber roll, which is delicious dipped in fish sauce! 

Later that night, Jess and I happily reunited with two of our fellow Beit She'an roommates, Jake and Joe, who had successfully made it out of the town and over to Haifa for their own vacation! You have to understand that at this time, none of us have Israeli SIM cards in our phones, so unless there's wifi, it's a Sukkot miracle that in the third biggest city in Israel, we could find each other!  It was a Tuesday, so it was not exactly an exciting night with lots happening, but we managed to grab some Gold Star beers, hear an outdoor concert and then found our Netanya friends to join our retinue! All of us trooped through Haifa and looked for something that was open and could fit our American-speaking entourage. The only thing with room was an apparently Arab run, open air hookah bar, that looked like a former car wash with the decor of a quinceanera. So of course we alighted upon this place and filled the up the night with laughter, American humor and tales of our first month in Israel. 

By this point, a good amount of the night had gone by, and my friends and I needed to return to Netanya, which is a couple of hours south. At 2:00am there are very few options for transport and the plan that we began to pull together was that we needed to take a 2 hour nighttrain to Tel Aviv, and then catch a shirut taxi back to Netanya, hopefully arriving before 6:00am. But how often does one find themselves trooping through the velvety night from city to city in Israel with only a backpack?! The Haifa to Tel Aviv Nighttrain certainly had an air of mystery about it since I'm not sure what brings most people to be riding a train at 3:00am, but my friends and I treated it as a grand adventure, which had the happy resolution of us finding out that it did actually make a stop in Netanya, saving us around two hours off our commute! So at 4 am, my friend Stephanie sleepily welcomed me into her room in Netanya and I found my way to a pleasingly comfortable bed and fell asleep.

When I awoke, my fellow Nighttrain veteran friend Drew took me around Netanya and showed me the sites: I saw the shuk, the local market brimming with fresh vegetables, spices and goods; the shops, restaurants, juice stalls and most importantly, the local hummus guru. He made one hell of a hummus and put on quite a show as he mixed together chickpeas, tahini and olive oil. 

Later that day we gathered up a couple more friends, Julian and Stephanie and headed down to the main event in Netanya: the beach! 

Over the next couple of days, I really relaxed and enjoyed Netanya. Right next door to the apartment building the Netanya Teaching Fellows were housed was an organic food market. Have you ever had tears spring to your eyes when you lock onto some agave nectar? Until then, I had never experienced this emotion! I stocked up on chia seed, quinoa cereal, almond milk and edamame pasta. I know how ridiculous this all sounds, but homesickness can come in many forms and mine apparently takes the form of organic foods! 

I also had the chance in Netanya to try something new and a goal of mine: surfing! My friend Drew and I got up early one morning, rented a surfboard and headed out to the surf! Neither of us had any idea how to surf or where to begin our endeavor, but we were certainly determined. Drew graciously suggested that I be the sacrificial lamb and start with the board, and in an out of character move, I hopped right onto the board and paddled out through the waves and right up to a guy on a surfboard with that really cool Israeli surfer dude vibe and said: "Hey! I've never surfed before! How do I start?" He looked at me as if I was crazy, which I can't blame him for and said, "Well, don't start with these waves and hang your feet off the board more!" So with these wise words, Drew and I moved closer to where the waves broke and began a 5 hour adventure of teaching ourselves how to surf. The surfer dude I asked for help, turned out to be named Asaf, and he ran the local youth surfing center and was apparently impressed by our newfound cavalier surfer take on life, so he invited us both over for coffee. We went over to check it out and met Asaf's lovely wife and they invited us to come visit them for dinner on the kibbutz. This is just how it goes in Israel, complete strangers easily share their lives with you and selflessly invite you to their homes and to share a meal with them just from a brief encounter. 

By the end of our day with the board, we had learned that your eyes can burn from the salty water; you can actually begin to bleed from the scratchy texture of the surfboard and rough sand on your skin; I had learned that a flimsy bikini is not proper attire to surf in and as a result most of Netanya had seen most of me; you'll be covered with bangs, scrapes and bruises; and forgetting to put on sunscreen will haunt you for weeks afterwards - but both of us could stand up on the surfboard and carve a little on waves. It was worth every burn, bump, bang and nip slip. We returned the rented surfboard and walked back to the apartments very tired and very proud of ourselves. 

I spent the next couple of days in Netanya and found myself slipping into a relaxed and comfortable lifestyle that was almost a beach-y version of my life at home. I could drink juice, visit Tel Aviv and go to bars, restaurants and comedy shows, I had more delicious foods, went shopping and found a great running route. 

Jessica came and joined us and along with Drew, Julian and I we decide to do the weirdest thing we could think of and go to a rave in the middle of the day. None of us would say that electronic music is our thing, but this event sounded too bizarre to miss, so we showed up to check it out. It was a weird and wild experience and the most entertaining were the younger guys who were so tapped into the the best of the music that they just needed to have cathartic dance offs as they whipped their shirts around their heads. Many a time, we had to dodge a spinning Israeli guy who was just so enraptured by the beats and intent on dancing that he had lost sight of his surroundings! 

The trouble with vacation is that it ends and eventually I had to pack up my things and try to cram the new clothes, organic food and all of my original belongings back into my bag and catch a bus back to Beit She'an. I was very sad to say goodbye to the beach, awesome and welcoming friends, comfortable beds and showers with heads attached to the walls!  Returning to Beit She'an was a bittersweet feeling, since it does feel like home and it was good to return to a base, but a certain je ne sais quoi disquiet had sunk in about returning to living on the periphery. The desire to be near the bright lights and big city part of the rest of Israel had hit and I've had trouble shaking it ever since. My next vacation isn't until Chanukah in December and I feel like I'm already chomping at the bit to get back in it.  

Over my travels, there were many moments that I wished to send postcards, or correspondence to friends and family back in the states. Israel is a lot of things, however sentimental is not one of them. It's surprisingly difficult to find good postcards or cards of any kind in this country! I apologize that I have not yet found a remedy to this, but you are all in my thoughts and I miss you a lot. 

Currently, my computer is not holding up, so I'm using my iPhone to fulfill all my blog writing needs. So if anything is misspelled, or formatting is weird, blame the iPhone!:) And any time that you'd like to get in touch, ask questions or just say hi and tell me how much you miss me, feel free to comment, or send a FB message! 

Lots of love, 

Hannah 

Bar Rafaeli is getting married & Israel does not care, except it does & other Israeli things

Things you might not know or expect about Israel that I've learned from my first month in the country:

1) Israelis hate broccoli with a vengeance. This is because in American movies broccoli was said to be disgusting, so as a nation everyone stopped eating it and now you can't even find it in grocery stores. They also think zucchini is weird. 

2) To avoid the cost of traffic lights, roads have traffic circles. They're everywhere and really annoying. And even though they're everywhere, cars still randomly stop or slow down in the middle of them. 

3) Ketchup is a way of life. Especially in the north of Israel ketchup goes on everything. Especially pizza. 

4) "Waterslide" is actually a giant pipe you can float the current through. 

5) Lines or queues are an inconvenience. Israelis do not accept the concept of forming lines. They just walk to the front, or right up to the cash register. 

6) Bar Rafaeli, the Israeli supermodel got married last weekend. Everyone had thoughts and opinions on the guy she was marrying and seemed to feel that in the looks department, she could do better, but hey, he's a millionaire, so we get it. Bar Rafaeli apparently has the sway to control the airspace in Israel. She requested Israel's Civil Aviation Authority close the airspace above the wedding so no paparazzi could take photos. Much to the disdain of the Minister of Transportation, I think they did it. 

7) Cats are not pets, they are a menace. Especially in Beit She'an, where there more cats than anywhere else I've traveled and they're all emancipated. They don't have a long life span; we see many dead on the side of the road. 

8) Asking for someone to pass you a dish or saying "please" and "thank you" when you want something is not common place. At the dinner table you really just reach and grab whatever you can get your hands on. 

9) HaShahar is a chocolate spread that most Israelis believe is better than Nutella. I don't think it is. 

10) Schitzel is actually enjoyed here. I don't know how it's possible since I feel that it's a sad fate for food products to become, but they freely make it and even serve it at restaurants and many willingly chose to eat it. 

11) Israeli drivers. Oh my. Well, you feel really alive as you tailgate to the point of almost being in another persons car as you wait for the chance to pass and go 140km/hr over local roads. 

The Tale of the Israeli Field Trip

Field trips - those were the best school days, right? It was a freebie; an excuse from the doldrums of repetitive lessons and the mundane. Instead, the minute you arrived at school in the morning, the energy was palpable. You and your class climbed onto a yellow school bus, sat with your best friend, made faces at the cars that passed below you as a cantankerous bus driver careened over twisting and turning roads until you arrived at the museum, theatre or park that you were scheduled to spend the day exploring. Your teacher ticked off names as you climbed from the bus so excited for the change in scenery and endless possibilities that came with it. Things were organized, thought-out, scheduled and cloaked underneath the fun, you came away having learned something new! 

At least that's how I remember the experiences of going to see Frog and Toad at the Flynn Theatre or going to the ECHO Center in Burlington, VT. 

To go on a field trip with an Israeli Elementary school, you should probably throw your foundation in Western field trip practices out the window. Actually, while you do that, just throw all reason out the window. It will not help. You will just waste time grappling to make sense of the madness. It's better to just lean in and become part of it! 

I found out I was going on a field trip with Gilboa School only the night before. Naturally, I tried to figure out where we were going and what we'd be doing - very vital and truly basic things to know for this adventure - but my coordinator merely told me that "you're going to the hills near Tiberius. Pack a lunch."  

Good god, again with the hills and these people! 

At this point I've pieced together that the mention of hills means that water will likely be a present element, but beyond that, it could really be any sort variation. So not only was I to be prepared for anything from 5 inches to 5 feet of water but I also needed to find a way to dress as an authoritative teacher-like figure. 

So sure, no problem. 

When morning rolled around I had on a nice pair of cropped outdoorsy pants (thank you Aunt Judy!) a tank top, sandals and a back-up pair of water shoes in my bag; I had also packed myself a homemade stirfry, fresh mango and yogurt for snack and lunch. I hopped on my bike at 7:30am, picked up an iced café from the gas station en route and rode through town to the school; stashed my bike with Shimon the security guard and walked into the teacher's lounge feeling pretty good about myself. 

This was a mistake. 

I very clearly did not have a handle on what is going on. I said a couple boker tovs to the other teachers who don't speak much English and just watched the scene unfold in front of me. There was money being collected and exchanged by the principle; one teacher was gathering toilet paper; the gym teacher was instructing students to fill up huge water bottles, and everyone else was just doing something to add to the general disorganized bedlam. I decided that the best course of action was to intently sip my iced café with renewed purpose! 

Yael, my gracious Virgil-like guide through the circles of Israeli public school, plus English speaking connection finally arrived. She didn't really know what actual destination we're planning to visit, but she's not concerned, so I shouldn't be either! 

We miraculously managed to get most of the school's 1st-6th graders onto the three buses waiting outside for us. One little girl who speaks English pretty well claims me as her own and plunks me down in the seat next to her and off we drive into the great blue yonder.  

We drive past the rows of date trees and meander over the desert until I can see the Sea of Galilee shining majestically blue in the distance! "We're going to the Sea of Galilee!!!" I say and begin to get excited. I've never been there before and it still blows my mind that I've gone from living in Vermont to being able to access locations of biblical importance; I can't wrap my mind around it being my norm. No one tells me that I'm wrong and all the little kids just nod and continue to ask me questions about my life in America and tell me that I'm as pretty as Bar Raffaeli (they're a smooth talking bunch, these Israeli kids. I've never been so complimented!) 

A short while later, all three buses park and the kids burst off the buses with renewed energy followed by slightly frazzled teachers. We descend upon a large field area punctuated with the occasional tree and weirdly everyone knows it's time to eat. The students and teachers gravitate towards the shade cast from the trees and sit down to eat their snacks.

I've by now, gathered a retinue of the students who are good English speakers, much to the dismay of the little girl, Ofri who claimed me on the bus and apparently does not want to share me. She's told me by this point, that she never wants to leave me and she loves me, all within an hour of being introduced. Were this a first date, I would've played the bathroom card and been making a run for it. But it's a little girl who doesn't entirely have the concept of compromise figured out and loves the shinning unstoppable feeling of being able to communicate with the foreigner and the attention and power it brings. The kids are energetic little sociopaths, but they're relatable and it's easy to tell how much attention they crave and thrive from.

Snack/lunch time or whatever it was, eventually concludes and we gather into small class groups, where some random guys in uniform shirts, who seem to be a sort of park ranger-y, nature nerd meets entry-level rabbi hand out to everyone a random puzzle for us all to solve. I guess that we solved it, but no one informed me what the answer was. Then we all stand up and leave the park to walk through some relatively nice surburban neighborhoods, over a random hill made up of dirt and finally into a toxic looking swamp. 

We're walking merrily along and a little boy named Ido is telling me about how his sister killed someone while she was in the army and was then wounded, when we all suddenly stop and convene around one swampy, greenish pool. Ido tells me that the ranger-rabbi wants us to gather pebbles and put them into our pockets. We do. Then we say a prayer and throw the pebbles into the noxious-looking cesspool in front of us. The ritual is meant to symbolically mimic taking the sins that are weighing us down and casting them from us to honor Yom Kippur. 

The trip continues to be Albert Camus' existential wet dream as we continue through a series of ambiguous and nonsensical tableaux. 

Next, we walk past an old shirtless man wielding a sycthe and really hacking away at the reeds in front of him. No one thinks this is weird or asks why this is happening as we walk by.  

The school kids gather in front of a giant well that seems to be full of trash and stare into it for a while at the bequest of rabbi-ranger. Then apparently lighter from throwing their pebble-problems into an environmental hazard, everyone turns away and climbs back onto the buses without any explanation. 

Our next destination is the closest I get to the Sea of Galilee. We pull up to a well-kept cemetery and all get out to sit under an enclose where we have another spontaneous snack and water break. We have the ranger-rabbi in tow and he seemingly explains something that makes a lot of sense to everyone but me. Then everyone walked off to look at the graves and said prayers if they wished. I never figured out who's grave we were visiting. The closest I got to figuring out what was going on was "it's a woman author who died" - vague, yet unconcerned. We got back on the bus. 

I could recognize where we went next as we entered the city of Tiberias, perched on the edge of the Kineret and Sea of Galilee. We drove past beaches and water parks, which gets the kids as well as me pretty hopeful that we're getting into the real meat of the so far extremely bizarre field trip. But no, that's not in the cards for us. 

Instead, we pull up to another cemetery - although this one is more of a shrine - that is much busier. Souvenir venders line the path up to a roofed area where all the action is. We're separated by males and females and I have to grab a scarf to cover my shoulders. The space we entered was covered walll go wall with pamphlets in Hebrew and there are bibles up for grabs everywhere, but nothing else is in the room. I guess this is Rabbi Rambam's resting place, but I have no idea who he was, or why he was important. What is important to the kids is buying all the ice cream and cheap jewkery they can; one little girl even presents me with a bracelet before I can decline! 

Another silent cue goes through the students and teachers and it seemed to be time for actual lunch! Sandwiches for the whole student body are passed out (I guess that's what the money was for) and everyone finds a spot to sit and contently eat. I eat with a little girl who tells me that "you're a mystery, Hannah! I want to know you more!" So through broken English I try to tell her about where I'm from, my family and pets over my stirfry. 

Then, as quickly as it began, the trip seems to come to an end. We all climb back onto the bus and head home. On the bus, the driver turns up the Israeli music and the kids dance and contort their way back to Beit She'an. 

So that's it, that's all of the Israeli field trip! I'm not sure what we learned and I'm not sure what it added to our lives. Generally, I'm still reeling from the details of the experience since it just felt so random and bizarre. But I hope the story was generally entertaining and you all came away from it as mystified and eager to see more as I was! 

Things My Israeli Students Have Said To Me

They're too cute not to share: 

Teacher: "Can you tell me English words that start with S?" 

Student 1: "Snake!"

Student 2: "Sand!"

Kid Who Knows What's Up: (whispers hopefully) "Star Wars!"

A 5th Grade Girl To Me: "I like your hair. It's ombré!"

In the 4th grade English class, the teacher is having the students wordlessly act out English letters and have their classmates call out guesses to which one they are. One little boy is so excited to volunteer that he's jumping up and down and waving his arms around! When he finally gets up to the front of the room, he faces the poster of the English alphabet, settles on a letter and the turns to face the class. Then he throws himself backwards and falls to the floor!

English teacher: (turns to me and whispers) "He's the letter "i". You know like "Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!"  

Another 5th Grade Girl: "What's your phone number?" 

Little Girl: "Are you from Holland?"

6th Grade Girl: "Where do you live?"

Hannah: "In America? I live in Vermont!"

Girl: "No. Here!"

Hannah: "I live in Beit She'an now!"

Girl: "Where!?"

Hannah: "Near the city center."

Girl: "No, what is your address!!!?"

My students would reallllllllllllly like to get in touch and stay in touch with me. Luckily, I do not have an Israeli number yet, nor actually know my address off the top of my head, or even know how to pronounce it. If I knew either and gave them out, I would easily have students messaging me on What's-App or even showing up and walking right into our house. This actually happened a couple days ago with one of my roommates after she began teaching at one of the local religious schools. She happened to be away over the weekend, so when two of her little students just let themselves into our house, she was not there. Instead myself and a different roommate were lounging around with our feet up on the couches in various states of gym clothes looking pretty unprofessional - more like college kids than English teachers. The last thing we expected were two Israeli girls to suddenly be in our living room, but they walked right in looking for their teacher!!! 

Teacher: "Can you tell me English words that start with W?" 

 Little Boy in the Back of Class: "WWE!!!!!!"

[Professional wrestling]

And my personal favourite at the moment:

Little 6th Grade Boy, trying to tell me that he has a little dog at home, but forgetting the word for dog: "I have a little bitch!"

*P.S. There may be a quite a few spelling errors in this post. I spend most of my day speaking to people in a user-friendly broken English, or using the Israeli "ayyyyyyyyhhhhhhh" to fill up space as I try to think of the right way to phrase a sentence so I can be understood. It eventually begins to effect your thinking and writing too!

L'Shana Tova

It's the Jewish New Year, so it's a time to reflect on the past year and the ambitions you hold for the future....orrrrrr completely over indulge yourself in excessive feasting and use the seemingly endless time off from work to play! 

I spend Shabbat and the Jewish holidays with my host family the Levis: Davide, Gilah, Na-Or, Maya, Hila and their little dog Tail-le.  They are charged with giving me an authentic Israeli experience for the holidays and they more than delivered on it. They took me with them to both their maternal and paternal family's Rosh Hashanah celebrations.

As someone who grew up around mainly Ashkenazi influenced Jews - if I was around any Jews at all - the Sephardic Moroccan exposure has been completely new. Their food and attitude is colorful, vibrant and full-flavored. You can think of Ashkenazi food as a study in shades of grey: gafillta fish, kugel, latkas - relatively delicious, although gafillta fish takes a certain level of sociopath to enjoy - but really all are on the same palate of color. 

Moroccan food is made up of tasty salads; tanzia - a honeyed mixture of dried apricots, currants and raisins over rice; couscous smothered in chickpeas, sweet potatoes and onions; stuffed peppers, onions and cabbage; shakshuka - sautéed onions, garlic and tomatoes with eggs fried into it; fresh homemade bread; variances in eggplant-- and that's only the vegetarian options! It's rounded out by Moroccan shortbread cookies with anise, almond cake, crepe-like mouffleta with chocolate spread, maple syrup, butter or honey and of course, sugared mint tea.

Trust me, it's as delicious as it sounds and I know because I've tried my best to cram as much as physically possible into my body.  This has had mixed results - as a person who is not exactly used to the pursuit of rich, decadent, full-bodied meals and more focused on living a very balanced lifestyle with healthy foods and ample exercise, this turned out to cause some difficulties. Most of the Israeli foods are healthy, but they do not skimp on rich, indulgent ingredients. And likely eating them at the volume and frequency that I did this past weekend was probably not the greatest idea ever. 

So it's been a challenge that I was not expecting. I definitely did not intend to use the Israeli holidays as a study in the extent of my own sloth and gluttony and I'm sure the ancient rabbis did not intend for a time of contemplation to be used to delve deep into my own food driven-hedonistic vices, but that's what I did.  It was an exploration of just how far I could go in attempting to experience new foods inspired by "food FOMO" (Fear Of Missing Out) for everything that was described as "a Moroccan specialty" or "she spent all day cooking this". 

An empty plate and the declaration that "I am full" is not a part of the Moroccan mindset.  I tried to wave the white flag and admit defeat after I realized that trying to eat this way wasn't sustainable and my stomach couldn't expand enough to keep up with it, but my empty plate symbolized that I apparently had not enjoyed my meal, so it was at times filled for me. I had barely digested from the meal the night before that we were eating a full-fledged lunch the following day! It actually began to feel overwhelming and that I just couldn't not gain a foot hold among the constant deluge of tasty foods and kind, smiling grandmothers. When I finally reached that point that my body no longer felt like my own and the heartburn was real, I had to thrown in the towel and request and night off. 

Spending a night in with only water to sip as I waited for my bloating to go down, turned out to be a great choice since there was a lot more of the weekend to come.  

Intermittently with the family meals, the Levi's would pack up their van with a "simple" Moroccan picnic (a lot of times Israelis use one word, while they mean the exact opposite. Like "water slide" when they mean drainage pipe - still my favorite example!) and head out into the the valley of springs to soak up the best of what's around. 

The Sachne in all its glory

On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, we went to the Sachne, a natural springs that look so perfect that you call its existence into question. As you walk towards the pools, purple-winged butterflies flit by you and a lazy dragonfly dips down to skim the azure waters. It looks like a 1950s movie set of an oasis in which the set coordinator did no research and just idealized what an oasis must look like--but that's the Sachne, for real. 

Enjoying the waterfalls

The whole group

We spent a relaxing day by the aquamarine waters, where we floated and splashed on an air mattress, let little fish nibble our feet, went for a walk to see the waterfalls and picked fresh figs from close growing trees. 

Since my life is now in the suspended reality that is Israeli, the weekend didn't stop there. Once I had recovered from my octogenarian food babies, the Levi's picked me up for a "hike in the fields" and once again, that meant the exact opposite. You just have to expect the unexpected with Israelis and cross your fingers that you're wearing the right shoes. 

This time, it meant that we drove to a moshevez, a sort of gated community-living situation that stops short of going all the way to bring a kibbutz, where I was introduced to Yaqui, his wife Kineret and their son Or and daughter Adom. 

In his little corner of the Sea of Galilee, Yaqui has perfected the art of man-cave. He loves all things with engines, so he created the ultimate garage devoted to his passion, with everything from shelves to house his collection of toy trucks to motorcycle, dirt bikes and amped up trucks. Yaqui also happened to have in his possession almost a whole fleet of 4x4s at his disposal. Apparently, "hike in the fields" meant we're going off-roading!!

Rugged and customized truck

Motorcycle and dirt bike

Yaqui's rows of collectible toys

We loaded up a truck with everything necessary for a Moroccan picnic, then everyone climbed into a dune buggy, or truck if they wanted a gentler ride to start. A neighboring family and their kids joined us. Their young son had his own 4x4, which like a good teenage boy he drove with reckless abandon while blasting Israeli music and wearing ski goggles to keep the dust out of his eyes. 

Taking a turn in the driver's seat

Our convoy headed out to traverse the rocky paths of the Kineret under the sun for the next couple of hours! It was honestly dreamlike to be bumping and bouncing in the backseat of a 4x4 between the Sea of Galilee and the Jordanian border. Just two weeks, I was scared to leave my known world behind and a month ago, I was sitting in a desk chair trying to get signatures on an endless pile of inane paperwork.  So to suddenly find myself involved in a world of action and experiences does not seem real! I did not know that my life could be this interesting! I tried to soak up the moment and simply be as present as possible to enjoy it. 

Evidence of the dust

The ATVs kicked up A TON of dust as they sped over the trails, in almost no time, I was completely covered with streaks of red-brown dirt all over my skin, clothes and hair. I pretty much looked like I had changed colors and Gilah joked that I looked Moroccan! 

Once we had spent a few hours doing some badass maneuvers on the back roads, as well as crossing back and forth through the Jordan River, we started to look for somewhere to picnic. Most places we drove by were swarming with tourists and their kids. They gawked at us, took pictures of the 4x4s and asked where we had gotten them. It felt very cool to be privilege to all this.

We finally found a removed spot for lunch and began to unpack the truck. Moroccans and Yaqui's family and friends naturally do not half-ass a picnic. They brought tables, blankets, frying pans and propane into the forest with us. So before long, we had a table packed with food, omelet station manned by Davide, himself and the makings of shakshuka, which I was helping to sous chef! 

Lunch spread

Omelet station

Another splendid meal followed, coupled with pleasant conversation, before we packed all the materials up into the truck and hit the roads for part deux of off-roading.

                                  

Helping to make some shaksuka the woods

The rest of the afternoon passed with rocky, winding road, some close calls with mud and hydration breaks with cookies before returning to the man-cave and unpacking and relaxing. 

I can now check 4x4-ing off my bucket list! There's a couple more items on there that I think are in contention to finally be achieved, so stay tuned since the Israeli holidays aren't over yet and the Levis seem to be very adept at making the best of living in Beit She'an and taking me along for the ride!

Shot of the whole group

Sandstorm 2015

Yesterday (8/9/2015) I experienced Israel's thickest dust storm in 15 years (boom, phrasing). 

Winds picked up sand in Syria and then whipped the dust and sand down into Israel. It's crazy to think that these locations that were once extremely far from me, now effect the weather that I experience! 

As the day went on visibility dropped down to around 20 feet, the air smelled burnt and the sun was completely blotted out. Cars had to use their windshield wipers to clear the heavy dust from their windshield in order to drive. Running was out of the question, it was heavily encouraged that we stay inside and drink lots of water. 

Today, Wednesday, the dust is lighter and I can see the outline of the sun, but it really looks like we're on an alien planet, like Tatooine. 

It was such an amazing and profound natural phenomena to experience that I took a lot of pictures as did my roommate Jessica, so I collected some of them to detail the experience!  

My roommates and I commenerated the event by going to our rooftop to get a good view and then danced to Darude's Sandstorm, a techno song of the late 2000's played at many a school dance, which seemed to fit the momentous occasion! :) So that basically is how I survived the Israeli sandstorm of 2015!