Building My Zionist Rep From Scratch

In Business Ethics class, we were assigned to prepare a short presentation about an ethical issue in current events- preferably, but not necessarily about business.  I had a whole thing prepared from an article I read on Thursday on the electronics industry and companies including Apple using suppliers who expose workers to unpleasant and unsafe working conditions.  When the time came to present, I spontaneously discussed the Gilad Shalit prisoner swap for the class.  I presented the ethical dilemas: is it right to release 1,027 convicted terrorists for one soldier, one citizen? What about the victim's families? What are the consequences of releasing terrorists? Does it make a difference that theres a mandatory draft and the soldiers aren't voluntarily enlisting? What about the morale of the army? and the country? 

I wasn't sure how much people knew or how much to explain.  I quickly learned that the students who spoke knew nothing of the swap or the events leading up to it. One girl stuttered on the word "Israel" the way you do when you aren't sure how to pronounce the name you're saying.  The professor (who seems to be pretty informed and worldly in general) also didn't seem very familiar with the facts. 

I wasn't disappointed that people didn't know anything.  Actually, it made me feel empowered. I have the opportunity to educate peers from all over the world about Israel and the conflict.  

In Cornell, people already know me as an avid Israel advocate.  Here, I am steadily and surely building that reputation from scratch.  By the way, I decided to write my informative speech for public speaking class (see 'When Its Not All Fun and Games') on Better Place and Shai Agassi, who by the way is an Israeli entrepreneur.  And, did you know that Israel is the first country in the world to commit to an all-electric car infrastructure? So Girl-Who-Didn't-Want-To-Listen-To-Elie-Wiesel, you're about to hear about how oil consumption supports the economies of OPEC members like Iran and Saudi Arabia and funds terrorism and about how Israel is working towards a greener future.

I dare you to challenge me. 

Adventures in Interlaken

I promised I'd share some details of the fun I had in Switzerland so here it is:

The girls I was traveling with wanted to shop so we went to "town" and strolled the streets and took in the beautiful scenes and cute village.  We went up to the top of a hotel where there is a restaurant with incredible panoramic views.  As we sat down for drinks, my thumb started gushing again so a guide from the trip I was on (bus2alps) took me to a pharmacy to see a doctor and get help (see Old Habits Die Hard).  After the cheapest visit to a doctor in the history of doctor visits, we went to see one of the lakes Interlaken is situated between.  The water was BRIGHT blue glacier water.  I tried to take the opportunity to practice some of the techniques we learned in photography class... mostly a fail.

Later, we went to a chocolate show at a local chocolate shop where they show you how chocolate is made and then give you lots of delicious truffles and such.  I swear spending the semester in Switzerland would be way more dangerous for my weight than being in Italy.  After a yummy Thai dinner, I passed out in bed at 9:30 PM.  I think that's a record.

The next day I woke up early to ski the alps! I made a friend who ended up being a great ski partner for me.  It was incredibly beautiful and the trails went on forever.  Of course, vacationing like a true Schlussel, waking up at 6:30am and skiing all day wasn't a complete day without night sledding and a Swiss fondue dinner.  The sledding was fun but the girls in front of us, arguably the most annoying, immature, and dumb college students studying abroad this semester, detracted from the experience of enjoying the eerie, peaceful, and terrifying feeling of sledding down the mountains in the dark.

On our last day, my friends wanted to shop again so I went off on my own and met some awesome Indian travelers and we tried to figure out the bus system together to get to the other lake.  I ended up running out of time and not making it there since they didn't come frequently enough and I had to get back to catch our bus to Rome but the adventure was still fun.

5 movies later, we got back to Rome.  Home sweet home.

Old Habits Die Hard

Pumped for a weekend in Interlaken, Switzerland filled with winter adventures galore, I efficiently got through my to-do list on Thursday.  Lunch. Check. Go running. Check. Prep for phone interview. Check. Pack for the weekend. Check.  Supermarket. Check.  Everything was ready and I was running on time so it was time for dinner.  Waiting for my noodles to boil, I went with my roommate to figure out where to take the garbage and recycling.  [note: we've been in our apartment for almsot 3 weeks so you can imagine how much garbage has accumulated from 7 girls.] Maybe from my eagerness, maybe just a klutzy moment, maybe the stair moved at the last moment - I tripped on the last stair and fell forward, bag of wine bottles and all.  It happened fast. Once second, I was trying to catch my fall, and the next I was on the ground with blood and glass everywhere. My EMT crisis management training (or maybe just common sense) kicked in and I had myself cleaned up and elevating and compressing my wounds and someone else on garbage duty in minutes. My roommate Sydney (fellow vegetarian and great cook) stepped up big time and finished cooking my dinner for me. [Shout out to Katie whose recipe I borrowed - penne with sautéed spinach, roasted peppers, olive oil and feta cheese to perfection].

Of course, the major problem: leaving for the land of chocolate and fondue and my sliced open hand won't stop bleeding! I guess I had to stay true to myself and past patterns and get injured at the least convenient moment.  Some of you may remember my ankle injury and lice epidemic as I left for Poland a few years ago. I'll throw in a picture for your entertainment and a nice juxtaposition.  The good news is that Swiss medical care is supposedly better than Italian care.  More on my Interlaken and Alps adventures later. Here's a picture of me getting patched up by a Swiss doctor who looked at my hand and grunted (still not sure what to make of his "commentary"):

When It's Not All Fun and Games

My first reminder that I'm not in Kansas anymore, so to speak, came from my parents.  Let me back up. My school here in Rome has 2 holidays over the course of the semester where class is canceled. So John Cabot, my brilliant university, has make up days on Fridays.  I have class 4:30-6:30 PM on Mondays and Wednesdays so on Friday evenings it's on Shabbat.  I asked whom to contact to get excused (since attendance is incredibly strict here) and was directed to the dean.  From my experiences at Cornell, I assumed that this would be a no brainer and I would be excused immediately on grounds of religious observance.  Apparently I've been cushioned in America.  In her response, the dean told me that I better switch classes to an 8:30 AM Monday/Wednesday class because I knew about the make up days when I registered for classes.  Basically, it doesn't matter what their religious holidays policy says (that I should be excused), I can suck it up and go to class or suffer the consequences. I was furious.  My parents gently reminded me that this isn't America and I cant necessarily expect the same respect for religious freedom.

 

Today, I had another experience that made my blood boil.  In public speaking class, we were listening to Elie Wiesel's speech on "The Perils of Indifference" that he delivered in 1999 at the White House as part of the Millennium Lecture Series hosted by the Clintons.  About 7 minutes in, a girl in the front row complained in a thick unidentified accent, "Oh my God, can we stop?" The professor paused the speech to ask her what was wrong.  Expecting her to say that the story was emotionally overwhelming, I was in for quite a surprise. "It's so boring," she whined. "I cant listen to him anymore."

Excuse me, WHAT?!? I honestly cannot describe to you my initial reaction.  Bewildered. Angry. Confused. Upset.  What could she mean by that? Is she honestly that shallow that she cant listen to a Holocaust surviver and Nobel Laureate share his reflections? Is it ignorance? Was her statement more deliberate, rejecting Elie Wiesel and the story he was sharing? 

I think the professor handled it as well as he could.  He must have been surprised as well because he seemed flustered. He threw the question back to the class and asked what people thought of Elie Wiesel's speaking style.  Someone suggested that he was monotonous. Everyone else was still, silent, frozen. Okay, that strategy didn't work.  The girl with the original comment complained again, "Can we just read it ourselves or something?" The professor explained that Elie Wiesel is telling a story that only he can tell and that it's important to hear it from him directly.  The class was still unresponsive and the professor was saying that maybe his tone is monotonous but to remember that his experiences may have led to this way of speaking. At that point, I defiantly added that I did not find him boring and monotonous.  I actually found his words to be incredibly powerful - nods of agreement, but I wasn't through -  And not everybody worth listening to is 20 years old.  Older adults have a different but still quite valuable way of speaking!  

Saved by the bell.  Or maybe it would have been better if class went longer but time was up. The professor said we would finish listening to the speech on Thursday.  I left class feeling sickened.  Are my parents right that this is how things are in the rest of the world?  I hope not, but my reaction was: thank God I live in America. Nay, the northeast, not the America that eagerly and unquestioningly sang "Throw the Jews Down the Well" in a Borat stunt. 

Anyway, back to the present... I think I'll write my informative speech for next week on a Holocaust related topic.  At the very least on something Jewish.  Suggestions?

The Times I Wish I Knew Italian

Of course there are many such times. After all, I am in Rome. On the top of my list is shabbat dinners with lovely Italian families who are kind enough to host two strangers but don't speak much English. But last night another moment took the cake. I'm waiting for the bus and as the bus pulls up, I see that it's packed. Ugh. Then out of nowhere I hear about 50 people from on the bus scream and smack the windows. I jump! Cautiously, I board the bus and hold my purse tight. Like my life depended on it. Almost everyone on the bus looked the same - guys around my age and wearing matching scarves.  They continue their chanting and singing and banging on the windows. While slightly petrified for the duration of the ride, the initial shock eventually did wear off and it made the packed bus ride quite entertaining. I did catch the word "Roma" in one of the chants so I'm assuming they're going to or coming from a "football" (soccer) game but my guess os hardly better than yours. #wishingitookavideo

Navigating the Eternal City

Story 1:
After getting some scattered advice during orientation from tour guides and program directors (e.g. to look drivers in the eye when crossing a street so they won't run you over), I decided to take on the Italian bus system to venture back to my apartment from a far away corner of Rome.  My roommate Lauren and I ask some Italians in the street using the VERY few Italian words we know, the name of our street, and wild hand gestures. They indicate which bus to take and wave it down for us.  We hop on.  I immediately get into a silent "argument" with some older Italian man who got on at the same time as me over who can give the seat to the other. Eventually my Schlussel-persistance won out and he sat down.

The next step was figuring out where to get off.  We start to ask someone using our wild gestures again and soon, the entire bus (note: some Italian busses are very tiny. See "does size matter.") is involved in our struggle.  Suddenly, the bus turns away from where we want to go and we end up getting off in some cobble stone alley. Eventually, we get on the right bus and end up home in time to pick up our newly arrived 6th roommate (of 7) for dinner.  (Yes Adam, it always comes back to dinner).

Story 2:
Somehow, Shabbat came by surprise this week and I realize Thursday afternoon I had no Shabbat plans.  I got in contact with Chabad and at the very last moments before shabat (literally) arranged to go to a Jewish Italian family's home for Shabbat dinner with my new friend, Becca.  The kind Jewish stranger said he would wait outside his apartment at a designated time.  I walked to meet Becca and an hour and a half later, we're lost in a new neighborhood in Rome and time is running out.  We were very close but the number system of the houses made no sense and we run frantically up and down the block.  We find a policeman and hurriedly ask him for directions.  Of course, he replies in Italian and we look at each other and shake our heads. He tries a few times without success so he leaves his booth and ESCORTS US to our destination down the block.  The conversation during the walk went like this:
Polizia: "Obama, buono?" (we understand this to mean: "Do you like Obama?")
Us: thumbs down
Polizia: "Bush?"
Us: "Eh"
Polizia: "Ron Paul?"
Us: thumbs down
This continues until we arrive at the destination and we thank him and part ways.  We made it JUST in time!

Moral of the stories: Italians are great!

Does size matter?

I arrived on Monday but in many ways it feels like ages ago. Things are so small in this country: cars, clothes, toilet paper packages, peanut butter jars... We stayed in a little hotel in the historical central of Rome.  It seemed surreal walking passed famous ruins on the way to dinner.  They don't exaggerate about Italian drivers though.  I've lost track of the number of times I grabbed someone I just met to pull them out of the way of a car or motorcycle.

It started feeling less like a movie and more like life when I moved into my apartment this morning.  It's so much nicer than I expected and is located in a beautiful neighborhood! 7 girls to 4 bedrooms and 2 and a half bathrooms. We have a cute Italian sized balcony but everything else is bigger than expected having been here a whole day and a half. Having brought only 2 suitcases and 2 carry ons (technically a carry on and a personal item), as opposed to my usual filled SUV of stuff, unpacking was a breeze! See pics: