Diva International!

Last night I went to Teatron in Yaffo (south of Tel Aviv) with some friends to a private party of some production big-wig.

"E'erybody in the club gettin' tipsy!"

The lights dim... the crowd quiets... out walks a tall, olive-skinned (wo)man with a shiny silver body suit and an electric energy... the crowd roars...

It was Dana International! The he-she megastar. Let me tell you this is all woman. (Hence the use of she from now on.) She was bouncing around the stage with her dancers and an orchestra playing behind her!

My friend pointed out all the other celebrities in the crowd. Some famous singers... some models... lots of photographers. And the chna-na (dorky) part of me just wanted to go chat it up with the photogs!

Haval al hazman! (literally "waste of time" but slang for "amazing amounts of fun.")

You want pictures?!?

Three weeks down and 24 more to go!!! I settled right in once I trekked through the snow (!) in Jerusalem. The program, Jewel (run by Aish HaTorah) I found to be obsessed with the Old City (Cold City for me!) and was very good at not answering questions. "I smell dissent!" they would think. "Quick! Do something! Sing!"

It was an amazing program all in all. The fact that there were 30 women all on a spiritual quest or looking for a free trip to Israel (as with the incognito Christian girls in the group) said something for the group dynamic. There were some GREAT conversations. And little clusters of us skeptics would separate ourselves and talk about all the contradictions stated. But the dedication to Judaism was strong (except for the Christians) and I learned more than I ever wanted to about those strange black-coat men in the contest for the longest, sleekest, curliest pe'ahs known to Abraham.

J'lem joy!

You can't hear the sarcasm in my voice. I would like to say that's because it doesn't exist, but sadly, if I were to vocalize "Jerusalem joy!" it would likely come out very sarcastic.

Rah rah Jerusalem and all that, but truth be told, I don't really like the place. I mean Jerusalem is not to be blamed. The poor city is the victim of countless fanatics and other crazies.

The first reason: cold. It's an interesting place though. Everyone told me it's tough to live in Israel and it's true. Especially as a non-citizen. I was sitting on a bus yesterday with the butt of a gun in my face and yet I'm not bothered because I don't think it's loaded and the nice redhead holding it is donning a kippah. All this while "Georgia on my Mind" played on the radio in between all the Arab stations.

The stark reality is that I'm still an Anglo living an Anglo life. I don't want to be one of those Americans living here 10 years and barely fumbling through Hebrew with the thickest "um-um" American accent. "B-SAAAY-der!"

I had a close call with religion: I was almost ready to sign on for another three-week brainwashing session with Aish HaTorah when the skeptic in me finally got through.

Lesson One, straight from the Housekeeping Monthly's May 1955 "The Good Wife's Guide:"

"A good wife always knows her place."

Lesson Two: yeshiva boys aren't that scary. Neither are wigs, long skirts, hordes of babies and enslavement in the kitchen.

I can get with one thing and one thing only: religion is there for a reason. Rules are for people who don't have the common sense to figure things out for themselves. But the point is to better oneself! To constantly evaluate one's life. To find meaning and integrity in all of life's moments.

I can't say with certainty that J'lem'sters hit the mark on that one, though.