As planned, I took a bus to Tel Aviv to meet up with my friend Nir, who lives in a suburb about 15 minutes drive from the center of the city. We took the 3+ hour bus-ride to Kiryat Shmoneh, arriving at around 11 PM, and Ronen met us there and drove us to his old stomping grounds, Kibbutz Dafna. There was a party for a girl's 26th birthday, and people were sitting around with guitars and food and some drinks and having a great time, at least as far as I could discern. I say this because they, completely understandably and expected, almost primarily spoke Hebrew. I'm certainly improving from the rigors of my Ulpan course, but I really couldn't understand what was being talked about, and I for sure couldn't contribute to the conversation, for by the time I figured out what to say, which didn't happen all too often, the topic had changed. It was frustrating, but I did have a nice night.

The next day, Ronen took Nir and I to an amazing area of the river which runs through and around Dafna where he had gone many times as a kid. From the river we could see the border between Israel and Lebanon. Ronen told us about the Lebanon War in 2006, how bombs were constantly dropped around the area, coupled with monstrous explosive sounds, although no one in his kibbutz was actually hurt. It was quite riveting and humbling, coming from Huntington Woods, where the biggest threat I ever remember is when some convict escaped from police custody with a pistol when I was in 3rd grade. He was subsequently found barefoot. It wasn't surprising, then, that bomb shelters were practically everywhere on the Kibbutz. (In fact, I recently learned that every apartment/house is required to have a bomb shelter. My room is the bomb shelter for our apartment. It's reinforced a bit stronger, has an extra door, and is a bit bigger. I'm the safest. Schwing!) The river's water comes from Mount Hermon, the tallest point in Israel, where for about 2 weeks of the year people flock to go skiing. Subsequently, the water was absolutely freezing, but really refreshing. We made some food afterward, and Ronen had to go back to Tel Aviv to work at his music bar, which he manages. Nir and I explored the rest of the day and the next. The kibbutz was essentially a town. There was a store, a library, a post office, etc. Ronen had earlier explained that the former lifestyle of the kibbutz - whereby no one spent nor earned money and everyone participated in the functioning of the microcosmic world - had dissipated around 15 years ago when the government limited their funding and people started getting jobs outside the kibbutz, rather than solely participating in the kibbutz's production (Dafna produes shoes). The layout of the place reminded me a lot of where The Others live in the show LOST. That evening, Nir and I made it back to Tel Aviv, and we went out with some friends of his to a couple bars.

The busses don't run past 5:30 on Friday evening and don't start up again until about the same time on Saturday, because of Shabbat. Taxis still run, but they're more expensive, so transportation is limited, on top of many stores and restaurants being closed. It's something that needs to be taken into consideration when making plans.

I went to a soccer game with a group of people the other night. It was the first game of the season, and the local team, Beitar Jerusalem, was playing their cross-country rival, HaPoel Tel Aviv. Beitar's fans are notorious for being rowdy, and they did not disappoint. The term I heard used most often by the fans by far was Ben Zona!, which was directed at either the referee, the opposing players, or just this cursed life in general which denies the soccer fan his true desires. The first word, Ben, means son. I'll let you guess the rest. Another cheer was quite simply, Ani Soneh Poel!, translating to "I hate Poel!" Definitely no sportsmanship points to be found here! The Poel fans were really loud too and represented well. Overall, it was a sick time, but unfortunately neither team scored, which really was the worst thing that could have happened, as I wasn't particularly supporting either side.

This past Wednesday and Thursday nights in downtown Jerusalem the Beer Festival was going on, with beers from all over the world and great concerts, all for relatively cheap. The first night I actually saw a band I was familiar with, Hadag Nachash, who I'd seen in Ann Arbor when they came to perform. Unlike concerts in the United States, it was rather easy to work my way to the front. The next night we arrived too late, and weren't allowed in since it was full, so, along with my friend Uri, we spent the night making some rounds at a couple bars.

Friday was an awesome day. A lot of people had gone to Tel Aviv to chill on the beaches for the weekend, but I'd decided to stay and hang out in Jerusalem. I went downtown mid-morning and explored the area around the bustling Ben-Yehuda street. There was a lot going on everywhere I turned, with tons of shops and restaurants and people everywhere. Naturally, there were cats, but I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a group that was exclusive. The park where the Beer Festival was at was now hosting a Reggae Festival, and it was amazing. The music was terrific and the vibe was fun and hilarious. It was funny listening to the performers throw in Reggae phrases in Israeli accents, like "Good Vibrations Rasta Ya," not to mention the wild people who were jamming out, or playing with the water guns that were supplied by the festival. I had to leave early to try to catch the last bus in order to make it back to my dorm, but I ended up missing it and had to take a cab.

Two nights ago I walked with my roommate, Hannah, with the goal of making it to the downtown area where I'd been on Friday. After about a half hour, we missed our target and entered the Old City, in which we got lost multiple times among the narrow alleys and complicated infrastructure. It was cool, though. We were primarily in the Arab (or perhaps Muslim, I've heard the name may have changed) quarter, which tours and such don't generally go to. It was a bit uncomfortable being out of our element, but we met some really nice people and had some good food and hookah for cheap, and it was really interesting. At one point, seemingly thousands of people flocked together to go pray, presumably at the Dome of the Rock. We tried following, but were stopped by the Israeli police since we (apparently blatantly obviously) weren't Muslim. Throughout the alleys there were tons of children running around. For the most part it was cute and refreshing, but there were some kids who would clearly and deliberately do their best to get a look up Hannah's dress. She also got lots of looks from men and the frequent comment, which was also rather uncomfortable. Hannah suggested that the fact that hers were likely the first pair of uncovered shoulders most men had seen in public in a while had a lot to do with it. Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera, so I was only able to get one snapshot with my phone of a random cardboard box filled with baby chicks, but suffice it to say that it was a very interesting cultural experience.