A continuation of my world travels.

I arrived to Israel a week ago and started writing a blog about my internship with the Ethiopian National Project as a project that I must do in turn for a scholarship I received from my school. As the week went on I kept thinking that I needed to write down the things I've been seeing and the people that I have encountered here. So I have decided to continue writing in my blog from when I lived in Israel two and a half years ago. This time I'm back, with more perspective, with a different way of approaching this country and with different goals. And this time I'm living in Jerusalem, a place I never thought I'd live, but after a week I see there is something very intriguing about it.

When I first got here, I wondered if this had been a good decision or if I had gotten wrapped up in a crazy idea that I somehow managed to make work out. Perhaps its a combination of that and a combination of fate. From the moment I returned from Israel June of 2009, I haven't been able to get over Israel. I fell in love with this country, with its history, its land, its beauty and sometimes I don't even mind the crazy people. After navigating myself physically and mentally past the stumbling blocks I encountered I once again feel like I have been pulled back into what ever enchantment this place creates. My internship allows for creativity and outside the box thinking and I'm somehow managing it in 3/4th English and 1/4th Hebrew. When I look back at not just the effort I put into making this happen, but the things that just somehow seemed to work out for me, I can't help but think that I'm supposed to be here. I always said I wanted to try living here beyond a program, and here I am doing it.

Perhaps though I'm still seeing this place with rose colored glasses because I'm not really a citizen here and I haven't had to go through the obstacles of a new olim. Countless times I hear the same things. "Everything takes too long to get done," "The people are rude," "People don't talk nice to eachother," "Its dirty." I could go on with a longer list but you get the idea. At the same time, even though the streets are infested with cats, and yes people are rude quite often (depending on who your talking to), There is so much culture here and there is quite a lot of diversity just in this small little country. The country itself is beautiful, with history that dates back 1000's of years.

With that, today I decided to take a walk to the Old City of Jerusalem because it is Shabbot and almost nothing is opened here. It was my first time ever being in Israel and going to the Old City and the Kotel by myself. The walk was beautiful, blue skies and sunshine. It was a two mile walk for me to get there from where I live, but I realized how nice it was to have that time to myself. I entered the Old City through the Jaffa gate but realized I actually had no idea where to go. Previous to today, I had only ever been to the old city with groups and once I went with my friend Jess. I chose to not venture through the Arab quarter by myself right away, so I walked around into the Armenian quarter. With other people around it was ok, but alone it felt questionable. After much walking and searching I came upon the Jewish quarter and finally the Kotel (Western Wall).

Entering the Kotel area I was mistaken for an Israeli and was assumed to be able to speak Hebrew (which is half true). This made me happy to not look like a tourist! From there I entered the women section of the Kotel, took a prayer book and sat in a chair.

This time was different than other times. It was the first time I really had an extended amount of time to really think about what I was doing and the significance of this wall right in front of me. Previous to this time, I've seen women pray and I've seen people crying with their hands and heads up against the wall. When it comes down to it though, this wall that is so significant to so many people, that people come to from around the world, is just that, a wall. But is it? I was sitting looking at it and couldn't help but think about the history that it stands for. The only left remenents of the Temple from thousands of years ago. A place that people have come to, to pray to g-d, to ask for forgiveness, for health, for happiness, or to just stand in silence. This wall is surrounded with little pieces of paper from people from around the world. They are stuck in little cracks, in holes, loaded on top of other peoples prayers, they are surrounding the bottom of the wall and bursting out of bricks. Pieces of paper that they stick in the wall hoping g-d or someone will hear their prayers. I've also put pieces of paper into the wall many times before. This time I didn't. This time I just sat and observed people and wondered what this wall meant to them. This time I sat and thought to myself, what does this wall mean to me.

Here is a little secret about the wall. Your prayers that you put in it, on those little pieces of paper, they don't remain there forever. Eventually cleaners come and collect them when they begin to overflow. Where they go, I'm not quite sure.

I come here and i always wonder if I'm searching for answers for something along the way. Its my fifth time here and I'm not sure if I have really found anything. What i have discovered though is a place that has weirdly ingrained Judaism into their culture and their country. I have discovered that this country still has a lot of growing to do. I have discovered that the situation in the Middle East is not simple. I have discovered that without confidence my Hebrew will never improve. I have discovered that sunshine and blue skies makes me really happy. I have discovered that nature inspires me. Lastly, I have discovered a love for a place that is often unexplainable.