The Importance of Life as a Jew with the Men of Sayeret Maglan

Day 154 Abroad: The Morning of My 21st Birthday

As I briskly travel the empty streets of Paris, France to my local metro station at the fresh hour of 7:30 a.m., the sky’s water-colored morning light of patterned reds and oranges slips a snug smile on my face. Today is my 21st birthday and I cannot help but be thankful for another year of life as a Jew, especially as the only granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. It would be selfish of me though to shape the day’s uniqueness solely upon my birthday, as truthfully, this day has a further purpose. In another arrondissement, the still youthful, demobilized Israeli Defense Force platoon of Maglan is stirring with the rising sun. These men will be spending the entire day in the magical fantasy world where ‘dreams come true’ of Disneyland Resort Paris. How do I fit into this odd occurrence of subjects and events? I welcome you to join me in my journey abroad, for this memoir can only form coherently through our conjoining travels.

Though a foreigner in Israel for three months, I was most definitely not a stranger. Life in the Holy Land, where I spent the majority of time residing in Jerusalem, was cozy as a Jew possessing a huge Israeli family and a love for the people of the land. For most Israelis, there is nothing unique about the constant encirclement of Jews in their lives (in fact it might even get on their nerves). For a Jew from the Diaspora though, immersing oneself in Israeli society is almost overwhelming, yet in the most positive of senses. It is simply wonderful to fathom so many Jews existing in one place.

Leaving Israel in late August to study abroad in Paris was not as natural. The transition from an atmosphere with such a blatant openness towards self-identity to an environment whose citizens much rather keep personal effects at bay shook my very core and altered my personnel necessities. I needed to find a Jewish congregation to surround myself with and to hear Hebrew; I needed to sport my Star-of-David necklaces and favorite Chamsah earrings; I needed all of my French teachers and peers to understand exactly why it was obligatory for me to situate my classes around the Friday night and High Holiday services schedule. With pride and boldness, I would simply state in French, “Je suis juif”, which translates to, “I am a Jew”.

Day 152 Abroad: Meeting the Men of Maglan

After persistent research, I finally discover a Jewish community in Paris that suites my every imaginable wish. The French-Anglophone Jewish Congregation of Kehilat Gesher, to “bridge the gap”, is an intimate community attended by loving and caring families and individuals of all harmonies. The unprecedented kindness and gigantic prospects for the well-being of the Jewish community of Paris and world Jewry radiates through the congregation’s every outreach program and prayer. To say the least, I am immediately ‘adopted’ by Kehilat Gesher’s diverse family and become one of their own, as if I never belonged anywhere else.

It is a Friday evening in Paris and the wind sighs a wintery breath on nearly undressed trees. I quickly cut street corners as my legs race methodically to Friday night services. With blaring iPod earpieces, confident dark blue eyes, and a sauntering soft scarf curving around my neck, my nervousness is tactically hidden. This commencing Shabbat, I am to meet the 14 men of Maglan, who are attending a special workshop program sponsored by Kehilat Gesher’s ‘Tikkun Olam’ committee. Besides providing an opportunity to explore Paris, the workshop mainly focuses on the platoon’s service in the IDF and what becomes of life after the army. One of the more lighthearted aspects to the program is the scheduled day in the fun-filled world of Disneyland Resort Paris, where I, as the foreigner, will be joining them as a representative from the Kehilat Gesher community. This day also happens to be my 21st birthday.

Many questions race through my mind whilst I travel to the modest headquarters of Kehilat Gesher. “Will they view me as a stranger or as a foreigner like themselves?” “Will they genuinely celebrate my 21st birthday?” “Will they view me as the little sister who always seems to tag along or as a 21 year old who deserves respect?” The two most significant questions are unfortunately the most persistent. “How will these men, who have experienced the darker side of life as IDF soldiers from the Second Lebanon War, find their innocent, imaginative selves in the land of Mickey Mouse and Company?” “How can I express to them that it is ok, with barely 21 years of sheltered life as a figure of experience?” As I cut my last street corner, I can already see in the dim-light of the sweet evening a group of men in the distance with lit cigarette buds; I know it is them.

Swiftly passing by the group of men by the door who, at this point, cease to converse, I try to become invisible in order to observe my ‘new friends’. As I sit myself down in the back of the congregation and watch the men stroll to available seats, each one is already acquiring a specially assigned name in my mind (which is not to be confused with the fact that I had already memorized their real names during my French classes that week). I begin to study their comradeship, the way the Siddur sits in their hands, the sounds of their deep voices in song, and their posture during various prayers of importance. Some subconsciously tap their feet to the cascades in melody. Two seem to be resting on each other rather contently. A few clap to the beat every now and then. I vibrantly sing and pay more attention to my Hebrew pronunciation, for I secretly hope that they might hear me and realize that I am an impassioned Jew in a foreign country, too.

With the conclusion of services, a collective buzz of Hebrew vibrates throughout the room and proceeds to the Kiddush. I meditatively watch the expressions on the Israelis’ faces while they interact amongst themselves and with those of the Kehilat Gesher community. There is an abundance of laughter, joking, and playfulness, alongside maturity, seriousness, and deference. They have experienced a part of life that I will never be able to fully comprehend and yet, they appear to be perfectly normal Jewish boys. Their resilience is so brilliant. After an enjoyable Kiddush and a few awkward introductions, I say good-bye to the men of Maglan for the time being, until our plans to meet for breakfast and our trip to Disneyland Paris in two days to come on my 21st birthday.

Day 154 Abroad: A Full Circle Return to the Morning of My 21st Birthday

As my metro car descends underground in journey to have breakfast with the men of Maglan, I confidently believe that this perfect dawn at 7:35 a.m. is an intimate sign. It foretells of an unforgettable birthday shared with those from the land that I utterly miss. And despite not being able to spend my 21st birthday with my loved ones back home, I will be surrounded by those who understand the importance of life as a Jew. Who could ask for a better present than that?

Conclusion: Shoshana spent her entire 21st birthday with the men of Maglan at the Disneyland Resort Paris and enjoyed every second of it, from receiving multiple serenades of the ‘Happy Birthday’ song in Hebrew and joining ‘the Magician’, ‘the Guide’, ‘the French Beret’, ‘the Photographer’, and ‘the Hopeful Husband’ on almost every rollercoaster ride, despite her ability to develop motion sickness easily. Luckily, the one with ‘the Warm Brown Eyes’ sat next to her on every dropping, twisting, and twirling ride, so the motion sickness was quite mild in the end anyway.

Election Night in Paris Part II

And with a final calm resting upon our fate as people of the world, we rediscover a forgotten energy of the most natural form.

An individual of the greatest stature has instilled in us, once again, this euphoria of life as human beings: hope

And with this HOPE, a new world for us all finally springs to life...

Election Night and PB&J in Paris

Peanut-Butter and Jelly sandwiches are my comfort food. I just ate two of them and dropped raspberry jelly just about everywhere. Today/Tonight is the United States presidential election 2008. I am nervous and fidgety. After two years of waiting, the world will finally receive an answer.

The Song of My Thoughts from the 08’ Election to Other Subjects

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

I’ve Left the Middle East to Study Abroad in Europe

'The half way point of my international adventure has arrived. It is my first week in Paris, France, yet my mind still thinks in Hebrew.

Leaving Israel was uncomfortable. Everything about 'the land' is so bitter-sweet for me, especially after becoming a part of Israeli society in almost every way. I traveled from the north to the south, interned at the Jerusalem Music Center and the Hand in Hand Schools, visited as many holy and historical sites as possible, spoke in Hebrew, played the violin and viola, tackled the job of being a counselor for 95 Israeli high school musicians, and lived life in an Israeli way. It is my homeland as much as anybody's and I am tired of others denying that right to Muslims, Christians, Bahia, and those like myself. I have not lost hope, as I do believe in institutions such as Hand in Hand and will continue to intern for them throughout the year, yet I am a bit more blue about the situation. Though Israel is six hours away from me now, the experiences I gained from my summer in Israel feel as close as yesterday.

Now I am in the land of past kings and queens, heavenly cheese and wine, waltzing FRENCH language, and one hell of a history. Even saying the introductory French phrase, "J'mapelle Shoshana", places an unforeseen delight of Francophone friction in my palate. Did I mention that it is practically the extent of my French studies?'

~Me (August 30, 2008)

Yes, that was me already over one month ago. Though it might not be visible in my comfy blogging style, it is only fair for me to describe my fear of leaving, all of a sudden, everything I knew for a different lifestyle that I was not sure how to organize (and without organization, I usually sink pretty quickly). In Israel, I had my family, my friends, my internships, and my belief of purpose in 'the land' as a Jew. But in Paris France, Jewish life is practically invisible, everybody dresses for the street runway, the language is NOT Hebrew or English, the Euro is very expensive, and all I could think to myself was, "Why am I here?". Being who I am though, I put myself 'in check' and knew that I must organize my life in Paris in order to make understanding of the grand picture. This is now what I am here to describe to you in this entry, my life in the New York of Europe: Paris, France.

Though study abroad is usually identified as a semester with fewer responsibilities and most likely semi-studious ambitions, I have not followed that trend quite to the tee. Though I am skipping my two hour, Monday through Friday, Sorbonne French class right now for reasons that will be explained later, as well as to enjoy probably one of the last bright sunny afternoons in this northern country, I have scheduled myself in basically every night of the week. The following is what I mean (and keep in mind that I live in the south side of Paris by Glaciere Metro in the 13^th arrondissement).

• Monday Night: Chamber music coaching at a Musique Conservatoire in the 7^th arrondissement by Invalides, the Eiffel Tower, and the Assemblee National.
• Tuesday Night: Salsa dancing class in the 20th arrondissement all the way on the east side of town.
• Wednesday Night: Rehearsal for chamber music at the conservatoire.
• Thursday Night: Sorbonne Orchestra rehearsal in the 17th arrondissement on the IV campus.
• Friday Night: Friday night Shabbat service with the lovely congregation, Kehilat Gesher, on the north-western side of town.
  

During the day, I am either practicing in my studio with a balcony and rambunctiously noisy elementary, middle, and high school in my backyard, attending my Communication Theory class at the American University of Paris, attending my two hour Sorbonne French class by Saint-Michel Metro across the street from the elegant Notre Dame, using the metro and exploring the city, buying fruit and veggies while exercising my Arabic at a local market, being a self-employed violinist in metro stations, reading, buying baguettes and croissants, studying for the my French and Communication classes on the second floors of different Starbucks in the city (as it is gratitude-free- to do so without purchase), and looking at all of the menus posted on the windows of interesting restaurants that I really cannot afford. On the weekends, I have fewer activities set in stone. On Saturday morning, I have a three hour Sorbonne Orchestra rehearsal, sometimes trips to the countryside with my study abroad company, doing laundry, listening to jazz and an Israeli radio station on the internet, sleeping, visiting the sites, chatting it up with my family and friends using my Skype subscription, etc.

I should also mention that my mind is also very busy too, yet not in France; it is busy in America. Continuously, it divulges into my possibilities for courses next semester at UM, what activities to participate in when finally home, what to perform on my junior recital, how to change my major to a Bachelor of Arts in Music from Violin Performance, whether and how to make the official switch to viola-or not, what type of internships and music festivals are of interest for next summer, and what the fuck to do if Barak Obama is not elected as President of the United States (do not fret, I already sent in my absentee ballot weeks ago with my vote of 'yes we can!').

As usual, things are coming together with their normal bumps along the way.

I finally had my first violin lesson today with a specialist in sophrology (the study of the harmony of consciousness) and the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto is coming along surprisingly well for learning it on my own so far. Though positive and uplifting, there is much to work on with the violin from what I learned in my lesson to the actual piece of repertoire.

My great Israeli uncle Chaim passed away two days ago and I have no choice but to mourn alone. He survived the Holocaust, married my grandmother's (savta) twin sister, and created a wonderful life for himself and his growing family. I know he had been suffering as of late and that it is probably better for him to be happy somewhere else. I will still miss him though and I hope that my family recovers from such a loss.

I am finally forming my thesis for my ten page communication theory paper, which is due on Friday as a two-three paged paper and French is coming along nicely too, even though my midterm yesterday was semi-unsettling. I also received in class yesterday my first French poem that I have to recite by memory tomorrow in class. It is so French and goes like this:

Tu dis que tu aimes les oiseaux (You say that you love the birds)

Tu les mets en cage. (you put it into a cage.)

Tu dis que tu aimes les fleurs (You say that you love the flowers)

Tu les coupes. (you vase it.)

Tu dis que tu aimes les passions (You say that you love the fish)

Tu les manges. (you eat it.)

Quand tu dis que tu m'aimes (When you say that you love)

J'ai peur. (I have fear.)

In the end, the events of this hard week are the reasons why I ended up skipping French class today and instead sleeping, writing this entry, and practicing for rehearsal. No, this is not the normal study abroad experience. I have too many responsibilities to go out every night and get wasted or travel every weekend to another European country. I am experiencing a REAL life here and not merely a college student's. With a few skipped classes, a few weekends away, a few drunken dinners with friends, a few Jewish holidays, a few family visits, a few sophrology violin lessons, and one intense use of the metro system, I am discovering every part of this multifaceted city known as Paris.

By the way, now my mind thinks in Hebrew and French at the same time!

Full Circle of the Second Lebanon War

It's hard to imagine that as a foreigner, I have experienced the full circle of the cause and outcome of the Second Lebanon War. As I sit at my window at work and listen to the church bells from the Old City ring, calmness is the last thing on my mind. I’m angry. In fact, I’m furious and want to pull my own hair out and scream. Why? Because of Samir Kuntar… because of Ehud Goldwasser… because of Eldad Regev… because of Gilad Shalit…. Because of Hezbollah…. Because of the IDF…… Because of the Lebanese and Israelis who perished in the Second Lebanon War. What a horrible waste of good life.

Even more so, how can people celebrate the achievements of murderers? Is the brutal killing of a 4 year old enjoyable? Sure maybe your 4 year old brutally died in the Second Lebanon War when the IDF stupidly missed their target, but does that mean you should rejoice in another innocent child’s death? What about the suffering of the Goldwasser and Regev family who today received the bones of their sons? Why keep them in the dark for so long about the fate of their children when you knew the truth? Is that good diplomacy? Is that how an Islamist group possing as a political figure should act? Should that be the action of a religiously pious group?

I was supposed to spend time in Israel the summer before college, but instead the Second Lebanon War began on July 16, 2006 with the abduction of IDF soldiers Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev, and I feared too much for my safety. Instead, I ended up in Budapest and Vienna. There, I began to search for answers to the disaster known as Israel and the Middle East. From watching wailing Lebanese and Israeli mothers on BBC and a pro-Lebanon/pro-Palestinian rally in the middle of Vienna’s Stephansplatz to hearing Tony Blair’s hopeful speech of the entrance of a new age and visiting Vienna’s depleted Jewish neighborhood from WWII, I told myself that there had to be another way other than war and animosity in the Middle East. In order to personally combat the situation, I became determined to face the fear that most likely every Jew adopts someway or another: the fear of Muslims and the Islamic faith. How does one do this? One simply loosens the reins of his or her fear and becomes friends with it through learning and respect.

The next summer, I returned to my original plan of visiting Israel for one month and left the US on the exact date of the war's one year anniversary. I was still unsure about my safety in such a place. Sometimes, I would have slight panics while on really crowded buses or in really crowded places. There even came a situation in a resturant where I found a lonely, open bag left behind by its mysterious owner on the only available table. Nervously, I peered into the bag, knowing that in that crowded resturant, in that busy time of day, in that perfect location, it all could be over and I would not have the slightest chance of life. Baruch Hashem/Hamdallah, it was a false alarm and only a lonely, left behind bag missing its forgetful owner.

As for the Second Lebanon War, the wounds for both combatents were still rough and scabby. The war had been finished already for almost a year, but where were the Goldwasser and Regev boys? Alive?? Dead?? What could possibly be their fates?? Hezbollah did not wish to elaborate on such simple details as the sign of life and Israel did not wish to admit to a blotched war, so the scab stayed unhealed and began to take on the form of a scar.

Another year passed as it became 2008. I, for the first time in my life, gained Muslim friends at school and what a wonderful thing it was! Even though most of my family members feared (and still do) for me, my fear was pleasently in a deep sleep. I returned to Israel this time for the entire summer and began my internship at the Jerusalem Music Center, which I'm still participating in. By that point, I believed to have found my balance inbetween the conflicting sides and the ability to be rational about all situations.

Throughout Israel, the patience of Israeli citizens had noticablly grown thin concerning the whereabouts of Goldwasser and Regev (and Gilad Shalit) and their hopeful return home. I noticed this thinness on city banners demanding their return, in the uninspiring news, and even on socialite headquarters, Facebook! There were negotiations here and there and suspicions everywhere. Finally on July 16, 2008, after exactly two years of painstaking round-abouts, the prisioner swap was decided, the truth of the soldiers was known, and the scar permanent with an additional touch of morbidly etched purfling.

Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev were merely remains left in two solomnly shiny black coffins and Samir Kuntar, the do-er of unforgivable acts, and his buddies free to celebrate with Hezbollah in Lebanon. Especially the living Samir Kuntar, the do-er of unforgivable acts... the brutal killer of an innocent father and helpless 4 year old daughter and family destroyer. What a horrible waste of good life.

The full circle of the Second Lebanon War and I, the understanding Jewish foreigner and mediator who experienced its bending contours can barely come to terms with it. None-the-less, I still hope with determined actions and thoughts, because I believe people are good at heart.

Interning In Jerusalem Summer 08

Much has happened since I left the States. As I perused my previous writings, I realized how apprehensive I must have been about interning in a foreign country, even though I obviously didn’t want to admit it. Now that I have been at the Jerusalem Music Center for exactly one month, I can finally express my views and feelings fully.

It’s amazing to me sometimes how different it is here. Many of the ideas that I suggest to my co-workers are either unheard of in Israel or impossible to act upon in Israel. By this point, I feel like I have used every inch of brain power and imagination to find new ways to promote the Center. I’ve used all of the tricks up my sleeve and yet I know that if this place was America, so many more possibilities would be available. What I learned in my Intro to Public Relations course last semester about international PR was right on the mark. Even so, I did achieve a few successes here and there, which I am very happy about. As for my co-workers, I could not have asked for a sweeter group of people. The thought of leaving the warm atmosphere of the JMC in a month seems so uncomfortable. Besides the importance of upholding a hearty work ethic, my desire to assist my co-workers is not only for my personal success, but truthfully to ease their workday as they care about the Center very much and work very hard. I want them to succeed in their efforts. I want them to see that their caring nature makes a difference. If only the arts could be so successful. If only communities could realize the importance of culture in society. If only Middle Easterners could understand the concept of organization.

Besides interning at the Jerusalem Music Center, I have also found myself assisting the Hand in Hand Arab and Jewish Education schools. Here too, I have suggested very significant forms of action concerning the evaluation process of their new curriculum, which covers the issues of: history, citizenship, language, identity, and relationship to the land. While my ‘supervisor’ understood the importance, as an American Jew who made Aliyah, his supervisors did not. I even told them that I would take care of the entire evaluation process, despite my lack of time and transportation. None the less, I received the red-light and left them that idea with a description of how they could evaluate their curriculum and what a ‘focus group’ was. I did get to write an invitation to Tony Blair and Prime Minister Gordon Brown to visit the schools, which I must admit was pretty cool.

With all of these discoveries, it makes me question how I could ever work outside of the States. Despite all this, I have learned a lot from my experiences and I am enjoying these moments in my life as a female, Jewish-American intern in Jerusalem.

Three Cups of Tea

Greg Mortenson and his friends in Pakistan/Afghanistan.

My evidence of change and hope. My inspiration.....

Want to learn more?

Read Three Cups of Tea.

Or check out: www.ikat.org

116+21+89+130=356 DAYS

There are 12 months in a year, consisting of either 30 or 31 days, which adds up to our 365.25 days in a year (or 29, 30, 31 days which adds up to 366 days during a leap year).

I left Houston, my native city, for the spring semester 117 days ago. Today, I will leave Miami and will fly to New York, where I will reside for 21 days with my saba and savta until Birthright-Taglit. Then, I will live in Israel for 89 days.

After I say lehtraoat to Israel, I will say bonjour to Paris with my mom. After my mom says adieu, I will live in Paris in the Latin Quarter for 130 days. After 356 days and 3 seasons, I will return to Houston, my native city.

Can you believe that there are 7 ‘I will’s so far?

I will experience many things while abroad for 356 days.

Now there are 8 ‘I will’s.

I will go to airports, beaches, boutiques, cafes, concerts, clubs, groceries, lectures, malls, markets, movies, museums, parks, pools, restaurants, ruins, schools, shows, and work. I will make friends, open my eyes and ears, practice violin, use my legs, massage my mind, kiss a few boys, close my eyes and ears, feel everything, advance my Hebrew, face loneliness, read relentlessly, become a chef, release emotions, alter opinions, learn French, play in the streets, alter my opinions, look beautiful, love my family members, hug my new home, and live my lovely life. Now, there are 10 ‘I will’s, with one identifying the action of 21 nouns and another identifying action for 21 other actions.

I will turn the coveted 21 years of age in October, which makes 11 ‘I will’s.

There is 1 ‘will not’.

Though I might change my outlooks or way of life, I will not return anybody else but myself. I will still be a slender rose, with silly pretty petals and sharp thorns.

I guess that makes 12.

Your Unfairness Creates the Confusion of the Future

The Israeli-Arab conflict is unfair. Millions on both the Palestinian and Israeli side have experienced all degrees of death, destruction, desperation, and constant depression. Yet this unfairness is not my point, because I am instead selfishly speaking of people like me.

There is so much information available about the Arab-Israeli conflict spouting from every imaginable public. Whether its in the form of books, magazine articles, news articles, blogs, art, etc, its accessible and expanding. In fact, I feel as if you could read a different outlook about the situation daily. Why is this a problem? Well if I am meant to be the future and I dearly care about all sides involved in the conflict, what the hell am I supposed to do?

Some days I feel as if what I have just read makes complete sense and justifies my previous understandings and opinions. During these 'some days', I believe that there is a chance that I can do something to heal the ragging conflict. I become close from afar to specific writers and dive into their world to comprehend why and how they write as they do. My trust in their knowledge allows for this relationship.

Yet when it is not a 'some day' and rather an 'other day', my understandings and opinions receive a shaking to their core. Skepticism overtakes my trust and I can't have a relationship, even from afar, with a subject that I don't trust. Besides the fact that this continual pattern is extremely frustrating, I think what aggravates me the most is my dependence on their knowledge. Since I wasn't alive for the pre-conflicts, the establishment (1948), the wars that followed (especially the 1967 war), and I don't even live in Israel or Palestine, my dependence is unavoidable. I know that in the end, it would be impossible to please all sides in the Israeli-Arab conflict, yet is it too much to ask for a little bit of historical evidence that both sides can at least see eye to eye on?

My uncertainty in this matter leaves me wary of defending either side, although my opinion about the entire situation sounds something like this: The Israeli and Palestinian governments (which includes Hamas as they were elected a majority in the Palestinian government and rule the Gaza Strip- whether people like that or not since they forcefully seized Gaza, it doesn't matter because they are the ones holding the power in the area) are equally guilty of mistreatment, hate, and lies. The Israeli people and Palestinian people, who are the ones that experience the most daily suffering, need to realize that the conflict's lack of a clear historical background makes it ultimately impossible to say who is in the right and who is in the wrong concerning most matters. They should not forget the past by any means, but they must try to comprise with the information that both sides can agree on and live in the now and deal with the problems in the now. In order to do this, the most difficult task comes next and that is learning to trust each other. Only when trust exists between two parties can a true relationship bloom and change occur. Without this much needed positive, activism, the murderous cycle will continue.

As for confused people like me who possess an unstoppable compassion for the many that suffer there, it is crucial that we assist both the Palestinians and Israelis in order to portray to them an influencing third party full of hope and belief in reconciliation.

I know that I have set this all up very simply since there are many other factors that play a part in the Israeli-Arab conflict and I might change my mind about all of this tomorrow. None the less, there must be a way to heal the conflict and this unfair created confusion only convinces me to seek more answers, listen to more opinions, and persist in my hope for change.

FYI, if you would like to speak to me about anything I've covered above, please do so because I will listen. If you do though, please do it in a civil way and don't yell at me about the issues or my opinions. I'm not here to listen to you fight with me. Talk to me as you would if explaining important matters to somebody you love. Thank you.

The Purpose of this Blog

Creating a 'professional' blog has been a very weighted decision for me, since I'm not fond of blind communication. As a people-person, I much rather explain myself and learn about others through engaging conversation that opens the mind and the soul.



Even so, after my semester internship at the University of Miami's PRADUM Agency (Public Relations and Advertising Agency at UM), I realized more than ever how important it is to document your professional thoughts and activities by blogging.



Another encouraging factor that has persuaded me to do this is the outlook of the next eight months of my life. Not only am I interning at the Jerusalem Music Center in Israel for the majority of my summer vacation (which would translate to 2 months of interning and 3 months of living in Israel), but I will also be studying abroad in Paris, France from September through December.



Being a public relations intern in Jerusalem possesses its difficulties. It will test my abilities in the Hebrew language, adjustment to an institution in a foreign city, and my persistence in practicing violin every day for multiple hours to improve my talent. I'm the type of person that will find ways to leap over boundaries in order to fulfill what I believe is my purpose (of course in a completely ethical fashion). To make this internship tangible and plausible, I researched and jumped hoops for months, yet now I realize that was merely Phase 1. Phase 2 will begin once I actually start interning and hopefully prove to such a distant institution that I am ready for business and can make a difference. The other issue that unnerves a bit about living in Jerusalem for three months is the fact that it is in Israel, which is always prone to skirmishes between Israelis and Palestinians.

Before continuing, I feel that I must clarify my views about this previous statement at least in general terms. I have many Muslim friends at school. In fact, I helped establish a coexistence group between Jews and Muslims here at UM that is called JAM-Jews and Muslims- based on JAM at Yale University. One of the most mind-blowing courses that I have taken so far in my college career was called, Islam in Modern Times, and I loved every second of it. There is just something about that area of the world that fascinates me and lures me closer. Whether that means hanging out with friends from the Middle East, reading various news articles and books, watching movies, or learning about the culture and ways of life in that area, it ceases to bore me. Most of all, I think about the lack of understanding and mistrust that forces the West v.s the East and the East v.s the West. So many people suffer from this sickly relationship across all borders. I hope that some day I will be able to take part in the solution of it all.



Many of the same issues that I faced concerning my summer internship also apply to the process of studying abroad. If interning internationally is a risk, well then studying abroad in Paris outside of my university is a gamble. I have to take a semester leave, graduate later, hope to not overload on credits, find a great Parisian violin teacher, and go with the flow of a new life. The adjustment issue is not one that worries me incredibly, but moreover, whether the overall outcome of my planning and decisions play out well for my future. As my best friend has said in the past, "Go with the feeling in your gut and give your mind a break". In my mind, I think my decisive, well formed planning has a chance for success. In my gut though, the gamble feels right despite everything.

Welcome to my journey in life! As I write more postings and upload my portfolio, you will learn more about me.

DISCLAIMER: I hate how many times I have written the word 'I' in this, but I don't think I have much of a choice. Sorry!