Jerusalem Nights

Inspired by one Bhanu Kapil, yet again, I will attempt a blog entry. I have a lot of friends in the world, some old, some new, some very new and very quick and then suddenly gone to San Francisco. I was in Poland last week and met a Russian princess who, in the back of a bus that said, in Polish and English, “You can dance” on the exterior, a Russian princess who coached me in bravery.

I am back now, in the land of neither here nor there, this place called Jerusalem/America/the devil everyone sees from the other side of the ocean. I go to school with a whole lot of people of all walks, big people, small people, Jewish people, not Jewish people, American people, people from New Zealand and Australia.

After class tonight I met a friend on a street corner for a clandestine talk about planning our futures. We are both holding each other’s secrets like gold, and helping to build, what we pray, is a solid long-term plan. These types of things, plans, careers and goals, require secret meetings for women of Torah. This is off the books.

I had an appointment at six, and she walked by us during our clandestine chat. The six pm appointment was also secret, so like ships in the night, I shifting positions from sitting to walking, waving one woman goodbye and meeting the other. We walked.

I am being interrupted now by someone hitting a car outside my window. It wasn’t hard, but I can hear the muffler scraping.

I also can usually hear my landlord but tonight, quiet, thanks to an inspiring talk from my new Peace and Conflict studies professor on the importance of finding peace in the home before and during bringing peace to the world. I visited my landlord, told him about Poland. He is a big Israeli man who is very kind to me, thinks of me as a daughter and often ends conversations with a fatherly “I love you.” It is strange, but also endearing.

He has a collection of toy owls and a small white bird in a cage near his flat screen TV. His kitchen is a bit like a little prarie house, and heated like mad. We discussed Poland and how they looted and killed, the Poles, not the Nazis, in order to get all of our people out. We then discussed a way to ensure quiet at sleep time, also evaluating American quiet time (10pm) VS. Israeli quiet time (11pm.) I can “call every five minutes” and ask him to be quiet and it won’t annoy him, he claims. He said he just needs a reminder.

This, of course, is in response to a 3, 4, and sometimes 5am rude awakening to the sound of TV, radio, and/or yelling in Hebrew. I am mostly sequestering myself this week, attempting somehow to post my photos from Poland in a coherent and honorable way. I am failing, and spent five hours tonight simply attempting to download and then upload and failing on all fronts. I think these photos need incubation time.

It is way past my bedtime. I aspire to one day be as amazing as Bhanu Kapil on paper, in looks and in action.