Of Perception and Prisms (Part I)
Note: though posted later, this is still Part I. The reason for this, I think, is that this site won't let me post an entry too long. So...
I want to make a very important clarification here. It may appear, from the nature of the previous entries, that I have been having a grand old time, of fun and learning and laughter. Well, that is only part of the story.
The yeshiva experience, especially mine here at Ma'aleh Gilboa in the middle of nowhere, is not as easy as it appeared to be. If anything, it may be harder than my whirlwind life at Shalhevet. The days are long, the studies are intense, and my yeshiva's additional layer of everything in Hebrew presents yet another obstacle to overcome. The breakfast and dinner menus are repetitive and identical, there is little free time to relax, the shiurim are fast-paced and challenging, and sleep is seemingly short and hard to get. The "promises" of the yeshiva brochure are half-truths, at best: the swimming pool is open once every other week, at best; there is no internet in the rooms; the air conditioner is beyond our control, and even then only works at certain times (of which, by the way, we are often unaware). Most of my L.A. friends are in the Jerusalem area, and the only way for me to stay in contact is if I make the phone call, if I initiate the conversation, if I show any desire of keeping the connection going.
Yet all this I could live with, for the most part. Yes, they are obstacles, but I never let these things get in my way. Yet there is another, greater, fundamental problem which concerns me even more, that the above issues, annoying on their own and disturbing as a group, compound to a very great degree. I call this issue "Perception and the Prism."
"Perception and the Prism" begs the question, What is Judaism? Is it what your life should be? Or is it a means, a way, of living your life? A subtle difference, to be sure, but this difference is what has made this yeshiva experience of the first three weeks a bitter pill to swallow.
(continued below)
I want to make a very important clarification here. It may appear, from the nature of the previous entries, that I have been having a grand old time, of fun and learning and laughter. Well, that is only part of the story.
The yeshiva experience, especially mine here at Ma'aleh Gilboa in the middle of nowhere, is not as easy as it appeared to be. If anything, it may be harder than my whirlwind life at Shalhevet. The days are long, the studies are intense, and my yeshiva's additional layer of everything in Hebrew presents yet another obstacle to overcome. The breakfast and dinner menus are repetitive and identical, there is little free time to relax, the shiurim are fast-paced and challenging, and sleep is seemingly short and hard to get. The "promises" of the yeshiva brochure are half-truths, at best: the swimming pool is open once every other week, at best; there is no internet in the rooms; the air conditioner is beyond our control, and even then only works at certain times (of which, by the way, we are often unaware). Most of my L.A. friends are in the Jerusalem area, and the only way for me to stay in contact is if I make the phone call, if I initiate the conversation, if I show any desire of keeping the connection going.
Yet all this I could live with, for the most part. Yes, they are obstacles, but I never let these things get in my way. Yet there is another, greater, fundamental problem which concerns me even more, that the above issues, annoying on their own and disturbing as a group, compound to a very great degree. I call this issue "Perception and the Prism."
"Perception and the Prism" begs the question, What is Judaism? Is it what your life should be? Or is it a means, a way, of living your life? A subtle difference, to be sure, but this difference is what has made this yeshiva experience of the first three weeks a bitter pill to swallow.
(continued below)
posted by Yoni Bain | 11:03 AM
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