Nicholas Croce's Blog

I know I should be writing more here. There really is so much to tell, so much to share, I could write all day, but no one would read it, and, it would get boring fast, as I would have no time to go out there . This experience is so rich. Part of the reason why I am finding it so difficult to write about it is because it's just so overwhelming. I really wish there was a way to tell you, so that you could see what I see, feel what I feel, hear what I hear, ad infinitum. Even staying in this walled-off 'Student Village' on French Hill, the ground which my feet stand upon immerses me... I am no longer an observer, far away, watching the world unfold through a LCD screen, no, now, I am a witness. But really, what does it all mean? I can see professor Michael Dobkowski saying this, holding his hand much like italians do when they don't understand — but what does it mean ? Anyone who is certain they understand this place, this land, of them I am quite skeptical. Layers

Just a quick note:  Yesterday, after Ulpan, I got a ride back to the Kfar Studentim (Student Village) from one of my friends from class. Wow! Let me tell you, New York City driving has nothing on this...! I'd write more, but I have to go back to the Kfar and slee, I mean study.  Lehitraot! Or, for you non-Hebrew speakers, later ! שלום

Here's a picture of the gathering I wrote about in my last post.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem! My apologies for taking so long to write. The internet situation has been challenging, and along with the needs to settle-in, absorb and listen, as well as study and have fun – there just hasn't been the time. Now, though, I believe I must sit down and write. As my ulpan teacher (morah) is always saying, 'cotvim! cotvim!', 'write! write!' First, here are the highlights so far: Arrival in Tel Aviv. Boarded sherut (shared taxi) for 62 sheckels. While I waited, I was greeted by a young lady from Jerusalem who, upon seeing me said, "Wow, well, you're sure happy to be here." She read it on my face! Also, upon boarding the sherut, the driver began yelling in Hebrew because he wanted me to move to the back of the sherut in order to give my seat up to a young lady who did not want to sit between the two Jews in the back. Even though I didn't understand what he was saying, when he boarded the sherut and started yel

(the numbering went wrong; I trust that the reader can discern which caption belongs where!) Photo #1: My grandmother checking out my luggage back at home. Photo #2: My great friend, Josh Best, the night before I left for this 'adventure'. Photo #3: Deb, the dear waitress from Jay's Diner. She noticed this in the newspaper and advised I ride one. Photo #4: Some sheqalim! Photo #5: A very dirty Pennsylvania Hotel. Note the horrendous mold growth on the curtain. Photo #6: Stained glass from the offices of Hebrew University, Battery Park Plaza, NYC. I'm really at a loss for words at this point. The man from El Al that screened me at the check-in desk was very kind, courteous, and polite. Besides the intimidation innate in being screened, it was a pleasant experience. Plus, the questions weren't too prying — hallelujah! More later. Thanks to everyone who has sent me beautiful emails and posted kind comments on Facebook. I will be reading these as I trav