Hebrew Books, Oppa Gangham Style, and Ships and Sailors...A Day Inside the Life of an English Volunteer

While it's still fresh in my mind, I want to write about the awesome day I had at school today. First, instead of starting out teaching the third graders, we were told to go to the first grade (כיתה א=Keetah Aleph) because their teacher's car had broken down and she had to take a taxi to school. We were very excited because our favorite kid in the whole school, Bar, is in this class plus they're all teeny and adorable. We were also excited because we got to lead the whole class by ourselves. My years of experience as a camp counselor leading warmups made this an easy task...the only problem is that these children don't start learning English until third grade so there was NO english happening. It's all good though-it makes it more fun. I sang a song with them that I learned in cheer camp back in high school because it's the only song I know that doesn't have actual English words in it; it's mostly just sounds. Naturally they loved it because it's silly and they get to dance around. Then after that, we read them stories...in Hebrew. While I was reading (my Hebrew reading level is right about on par with the books they're reading in 1st grade), Ronit, the principal walked in and was stunned by my reading ability. She was not aware that I went to Jewish day school growing up and could read my whole life...but regardless, it felt awesome that I read a whole book in Hebrew by myself to the kids and that Ronit was in awe of what a good job I did (she even told my English teacher Helen, how impressed she was).

After that, we went to the third grade room where we were actually supposed to be and, after being attacked with hugs, wrote some M's in their machberot (notebooks) and pretty much chilled for the rest of the hour. Then we went to the library to teach some sixth graders. I taught them both versions of the game 'Concentration.' I love the group I have for that class because they're sweet kids who want to learn English and are just generally enjoyable to be around. We played jeopardy on the computer after concentration...pretty baller class.

Then it was the Hafsakah (break or recess). This whole week during the break, they've been putting out these huge speakers and the sixth graders have been leading dances for the rest of the kids. Today Nicole and I joined them. We dance to Oppa Gangham Style, Ai Se Eu Tu Pego, and other Israeli songs we didn't know. It was so much fun dancing with them. The first graders dancing to these songs could LITERALLY not be any cuter. I wish recess at home was like this! It's awesome, too, because it's hard not to feel like a celebrity when all the babies are hugging me and all the sixth graders are looking at me for approval and encouragement. They want me to love them. It really makes me feel so good everyday.

So then we were SUPPOSED to have another sixth grade class, but a blind woman came in to talk them about...I don't know, blind things I guess. So instead we, for some reason, were given the girls in fourth grade and took them to the gym to play gym games. I taught them ships and sailors, Indian Chief, and Down By the Banks (again, thank you, years of summer camp).

And thennnn we dipped. So basically what was supposed to be a 5 hour day turned into a 3 hour day, and we really only "taught" one of those hours and even then it was with kids we liked and had fun with. All in all, an awesome day at Hofit.

New York, New York

NOTE: I wrote this on Saturday, but our internet has been out so I'm posting it now.

This weekend has been extremely relaxing. Yesterday, Friday, I woke up at noon and at 6 was still in my PJs. It was around this time that I started having the slow realization that EVERYONE was going to be gone last night. Never in the 2+ months that we’ve been here has someone been the ONLY one out of all 16 of us that was home. Everyone was either gone for the weekend in Tel Aviv or with their family, or going to a Shabbat dinner. I had mixed feelings about this. Normally, I would love being the only one home, but it actually made me kind of sad that I would be all alone while everyone was eating home-cooked food and enjoying conversation with new people. So I asked the last two people here, Laura and Leah, if I could accompany them to their Shabbat dinner at the house of two elderly volunteers and they and the old people said yes.

I should add that yesterday was the first time it’s rained since we been here. And it wasn’t like a light rain, introducing Ashdod to winter. It was basically a monsoon out of nowhere. We all had to run around shutting all the windows because peoples’ beds were getting soaked…not to mention the laundry that people had hanging outside to dry. By the time it started raining, that was a lost cause. We had to seal the balcony doors too as water was leaking in underneath.  This rain’s significance will be made clear later in the post.

So the volunteers, Abe and Ruth, picked us up in the pouring rain and started driving us to their daughter-in-law’s house about 30 minutes away. Abe and Ruth are, as mentioned, an elderly couple in their 80s who spent most of their lives in New York before moving to Israel. Driving with and talking to 80-year-old New Yorkers, with the highways still wet from the rain, made it feel like I could have been driving with anyone’s grandparents in the states. It was quite comforting.

Finally we arrived at the house. After the initial and obligatory awkwardness that basically consists of the whole family asking “…so who are you?” (which I guess is a valid question to ask - I asked the same thing to all the Israelis that showed up at our Halloween party) we quickly realized how lucky we were to be having dinner at this house. The house was beautiful and had a distinct home-y feeling where you knew that tons of memories had been made here. We became aware instantly of how much love there was in this family. More love than I have ever seen a family have for each other. Abe, the patriarch of the whole family, sat down next to his 30 year old grandson and his girlfriend, and 3 of his great-grandchildren, aged 3, 6, and 8 and they were all hugging and kissing each other and, while they talked to one another, had their hands on each others’ backs and legs. Even the girlfriend held and kissed the little kids tightly and hugged her future-sister-in-law firmly as she talked to her. I was mesmerized by the affection. Mostly because in my house, people don’t touch each other. I’ll kiss my aunts, uncles, and grandma on the cheek when I see them (and even then, only SOME aunts and uncles), but head-leaning or back-rubbing is strictly prohibited. I wouldn’t try, but even if I did, I’d be shot down. It made me so happy for these young children to grow up in a home knowing they’re loved, but sad for myself.

Being in Israel has made me realize how affection-phobic I am. Some of the girls on my program are “touchers” and lovers and I truly don’t know how to accept the love when they give it to me. I never had it growing up. I’ve kind of grown up as my own best friend; I love being by myself. The first few weeks here, people kept asking me if I was okay or if I was sad or homesick because I spent so much time alone, but I was like uhh…no…I like it this way. But I’m starting to realize that I like being alone because I don’t know how to be loved by other people. I’ve put up a pretty strong wall around myself and I don’t like to/know how to let people in. It’s something I need to work on because I think I’ll feel much more fulfilled if I open up my heart to people. But a childhood lacking in affection and the damage from an emotionally abusive 5-year relationship makes it really hard for me.

Being surrounded by the kind of love I wish I had as a child was amazing last night.  We ate a delicious dinner of homemade challah, vegetable soup, rice-stuffed chicken, and jelly doughnuts and mint tea for dessert. I got to talk at length with the girlfriend of the grandson about her being a vegetarian and my experience being a vegetarian, and with the whole family about their very interesting lives moving back and forth between Israel and New York. They were fascinating because when they talked in English, they sounded like any typical New Yorker, but when they talked in Hebrew, they sounded like native Israelis. This was because the grandparents were born in New York and, as adults, moved to Israel where they had their 3 children. The children didn’t want to be in Israel and, as adults, moved back to the states where they had their children, who in turn didn’t want to be in the states and moved back here. Thus, they’re all bilingual and bicultural and it was just really interesting to hear their experiences (before I knew this, I was speaking really simple English to them because I didn’t want to offend them by talking too fast and have them not know what was going on. The 30-year-old then told me he went to Cornell for college… so THAT was awkward. I felt like an idiot).

Finally it was time to go (but not before the 80-year-olds got our names so he could find us on facebook). I walked outside and became overwhelmed with emotion from the love from the family mixed with the smell of the rain and the post-rain dew. I looked up to sky and exclaimed that I was going to cry (not a sad cry, just a “I almost feel an emotion” kind of cry). Abe came over and hugged me so tightly and said “It’s gonna be okay baby. I’ll be your grandpa here.” It was the perfect ending to a perfect evening. And to think…I could have spent the entire night in my pajamas, alone, eating pretzels and nutella, happy that I was getting alone time. But I am so happy that I made the decision to spend the evening with people.

Finally at home

Part of our duty here in Israel is to volunteer for two hours a week. Slowly but surely, after sitting down and talking to us about what we want to do, Irit has been finding us our volunteer locations. Some people want to work in animal shelters, others with refugees who want to learn English, and still others cleaning up the beaches. But I, unsurprisingly, didn't want any of this (except maybe the animal shelter, but the dogs are uglier here). I told her I wanted to work in a speech and hearing clinic, in any capacity. Our amazing madricha found me something above and beyond what I ever thought was possible here: a Deaf club right here in Ashdod.

I am currently waiting in the main recreation room to talk with the (thankfully English-speaking) coordinator of the club and building. I'm surrounded by Deaf people having conversations, laughing, and catching up. Others are playing cards. But they are all enjoying themselves. I feel rude eavesdropping, but I love just watching. The interactions are so genuine. The Deaf are a special group of people; so kind and accepting, yet so no-nonsense. Two men came over to me and insisted I get a cup of coffee here and I talked to them (in sign language) only to get across that I knew only American Sign Language, not Israeli Sign Language. In just that two minute interaction, we communicated as best we could. The communication barrier doesn't phase me now, whether in spoken or visual language, because that is all I know here.

Dvori, the hearing employee, came out just for a minute to tell me she was finishing up another meeting. She seems absolutely lovely, giving me a hug and telling me how happy she is that I can volunteer. When she's not here, she works as an interpreter around Israel. I'm obsessed with her already. I asked her if this whole building was devoted to the Deaf club and she replied to me, "Yes. This is their home." And I knew instantly the moment I walked in, that this was my home, too.