for those with a personal knack for knowing their bibliographys, this next post was written by Ben Perlstein.

After Kivunim left Kibbutz Ketura, we went to the southern-most Israeli city of Eilat for a day of transition. We were supposed to go to Petra in Jordan, for the beginning of the day, but due to pre-election security precautions we stayed in Eilat for the remainder of our orientation, before heading up to our home base in Jerusalem.

Our day in Eilat was pretty un-programmed and relaxed. We hung out on the beach and went out for a fantastic dinner, bracing ourselves for a new lifestyle. Soon school would start, and the summer-program-esque portion of our program would be over.

The four-hour bus ride up to Jerusalem was another peak of our anticipation. Kivunim would finally settle down (for a month at least!). Once we were in the city limits, Naomi Shemer’s “Yerushalayim Shel Zahav” (Jerusalem of Gold) and Matisyahu’s “Jerusalem” blasted in the bus’ stereo. We all sat up straight in our seats, letting the city pour into us. We descended into a tunnel, and the Matisyahu’s song came to its climax as we shot out onto the highway, overlooking the Old City with the Dome of the Rock blazing in the window. The energy on the bus took on a life of its own as we all reacted in our own individual ways to our almost theatrical entrance into the heart of the city.

Soon the world outside, the streets, the signs, the restaurants and clubs, became potential pieces of home. I looked freshly on everything, anticipating how familiar it would all be to me by the end of the year. We arrived at our home at Beit Shmuel (an appendage of Hebrew Union College and the World Union for Progressive Judaism), explored our rooms, and the common areas. We were reunited with our possessions, which had waited here while we were in the desert. Soon we ventured out into the city.

We are about as close as anyone to the center of Jerusalem. Our building overlooks the Old City and downtown. The legendary Ben-Yehudah Street is less than ten minutes away by foot. The other gap-year program students seem to be everywhere. In the first few days I met up with a number of friends from Young Judaea Year Course, and met many others on different programs through friends on Kivunim. The life on foot is fantastic, after eighteen years of using vehicular transportation for nearly every activity. I am really enjoying soaking in the new map of this city, exploring its many villages on morning jogs. It’s no American grid city, but somehow its organization feels intuitively logical, based on its rolling hills and development as an outgrowth of the Old City.

On the first Shabbat we all made a pilgrimage (eh, more like fifteen minute walk) to the Kotel of Western Wall. Again I looked on Israel in a new light. Every time I have visited the Kotel in the past, I feel this incredible pressure to have a transformational experience. I often feel compelled to recite prayers and observe certain rituals that aren’t central to my daily life.

The idea of having a personal experience at the Kotel is popular, but perhaps more importantly, there’s no one way to do it, we decided. That’s an important idea to put into words at the Kotel of all places.

The popular Jewish-American reggae artist Matisyahu paraphrases the psalms when he sings “Jerusalem, if I forget you, let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do.” The day before yesterday I gave somebody directions to the Central Bus Station in Hebrew for the first time. Everyday I feel more connected to this city as my neighborhood. When we first arrived I was struck by how stimulating the smell of it is, clear and cultured at the same time. Jerusalem is an icon of Jewish history, in joy and peril. It is a staple of our present reality, the seat of Israel’s government, and the home of countless year-programs. It is a place that presents many questions, and countless opportunities to learn.

Now that I’m here, I’m sure I’ll never forget Jerusalem; I just hope I never take it for granted.