The Zoo

I forgot to mention my trip to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo a couple of weeks ago. It is by far the best zoo I have ever been to. The scenery was gorgeous, the animals happy, active, playful, and came right up to us.My favorite part was the big open safari area where the giraffes, zebras, ostriches, and rhinoceroses roamed together next to a lake overlooking the mountains in the distance. As my friend remarked "If the big giraffes can live with the little zebras happily, why can't we all live in harmony?

Waiting On The World To Change

Currently listening to this song and reflecting on life while writing a paper for my "Jewish Settlements in Israel pre-1948" class.

Going Gray

Today as a friend was giving me a neck massage since I had a headache (yes, I know, I have amazing caring friends), she found something that did not belong. A gray hair, well, silver actually. Don't worry, it is no longer attached to my head. I still try to insist that it is because I am turning blond from the intense Middle-Eastern sun.

But, honestly, I am not that surprised. This place, coupled with nursing, has been the most emotionally stressful experience I have ever had. I don't even know how to adequately explain it, examples will have to suffice.

Example 1 - this place. This past Sunday the Penn nurses were on an Arab bus on our way to Old City to experience a Purim celebration with our professor. We were pulled over by a group of Israel Police Officers. Everyone had to produce a passport or ID (which by the way, you don't need to ride a bus). He took one man off of the bus. We waited while 3 officers searched, interrogated, and just took their precious time with this man. Eventually the man came back to the bus to get his little son. The police interrogated and stood around some more. Eventually the man told the bus driver to leave, and him and his son piled into the Police Car. Such disturbing pointless intimidation tactics. Such racism. Such hate. And all we could do was watch.

Example 2 - nursing. I saw my first death. It affected me so much more than I thought it would. Especially considering that she was not even my patient. I knew nothing about this little 4 year old girl other than her medical condition, which I will not share. I watched almost an entire resuscitation attempt. It was fine as long as we were discussing technical skills applied and the physiology of the girl's condition. Somehow 45 minutes into watching the trauma put on this tiny body it hit me, and I had to leave. 15 minutes later they called it. I get shivers just writing about it. I cried. I keep thinking about it. I know it is better, that she was in no state to live, but I was there while she died. And all I could do was watch.

The Outcasts

February 1, 2008
Today we took a tour of Old City and the Jewish Quarter. We stood in the room where Jesus supposedly had his last supper. The tour ended at the Western Wall. It is divided into two gender sides with the much larger division being the men’s. I overheard other girls on our tour expressing their anger at how much smaller the women’s side was, but my friend turned to me and said they are lucky the women even have a side. Here Jews were praying, reading their Torah out loud, swaying up and down, burying their faces in their Torah, pressing themselves against the wall. There are pieces of paper stuck in the wall that have people’s prayers written on them. It was a really interesting place to observe and people watch. Old City is a historically significant place for many different religions; however, I feel like a lot of the meaning and history is lost on me as I am not religious.

Some people might refer to it as culture shock. I’m not sure if that is exactly what I am experiencing, but it is different being in Israel without being Jewish. They have such a strong community that everyone studying abroad here knows each other through someone somehow. All except our little group of Penn nurses. The topic comes up somehow in every conversation where I hesitantly admit, “no I am not Jewish”, and the response is usually something like “oh.” At least we have each other.

Being an outsider in this particular region is not necessarily a bad thing. We have a whole different perspective on the whole Arab-Israeli conflict. It is really quite disturbing the little derogatory comments we hear in everyday conversation. But we are having difficulty with what we can do with those comments. We are outsiders, so on one hand, do we even have a place to say “this is wrong”? But on the other hand we have a valuable unbiased perspective. Will our views impact any one person and make a difference? Or will we lose friends by opening our mouths? We feel like we have gone back prior to the Civil Rights Movement in America. It is a frustrating situation.

Fighting a silent battle

No, this is not commendable like Ghandi. Instead I am referring to stabs using technology. Computers have killed our communication skills with each other and promoted passive aggressive behavior. In the past two months I have been frustrated, annoyed, hurt, and eventually humored by such trivial things as Instant Messenger away messages and Facebook statuses. Honestly...who would have thought? Whether it be painfully specific messages that I ask myself "why?" or impressively vague messages that my mind spins in the worst possible way, it is all in the shadows. You might not see anything going on face to face, smiles all around - but under the table there are these subtle stabs.

I have not done much better. While I chose not to "stoop to that level" I have successfully avoided confrontation. I excuse my behind the back talking to "getting it off my chest" and "venting" to friends that I trust. While this is necessary for emotional support and my own sanity, I'm not sure I can necessarily call it more mature. Here I am, again, talking about it - no matter how vague - online. One friend brightened my spirits by pointing out how humorous the situation really was. The passive aggressive behavior has pretty much subsided, as talk has passed from person to person, but it still bothers me. I do not even know if any of it was actually targeted at me. It is quite possible that I am just jealous and paranoid.

I am not proud of this.

Take Time

About 3 weeks ago Whoopi Goldberg spoke at Penn as part of the SPEC lecture series. As soon as she walked on stage the crowd of mostly college students gave a standing ovation. We were star-struck. Whoopi was standing about 30 feet away. She covered a million different topics throughout her talk, but she left us with one piece of advice. Take time. It is proof alone that it took me 3 weeks to find time to write this post, that we don't do it enough. In the fast paced - stay up late and study - society that we live in we don't have the opportunity to take time. What exactly is the point of all the hustle and bustle, all the drive and work ethic, if we don't have time to sit back and enjoy it? Exactly, there isn't one.

This past week I have finally been able to take time. To enjoy my friends and give my brain a break. It does wonders for the mental health. The hardest course (I hope) of my nursing education (Medical/Surgical Nursing for the Young and Middle Aged Adult) is finished. I had multiple breakdowns throughout, as did the other students in the class, from all the pressure, information, and high expectations. They say what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger - but why should it even seem like a plausible outcome to die from the sheer amount of work and lack of free time? I have taken Whoopi's advice to heart. Now the challenge is putting it into practice.