Yoni I and Yoni II: Who is the REAL Yoni?

Forgive me for not writing again last night, but I was busy. We held a surprise birthday party for Omer, and it included cake, sparklers, and everyone popping the carefully-taped balloons. And even though I yet again promised myself that I'd go to sleep early, for the sixth consecutive night I got into bed after 2 p.m. And considering that I had to be up at 5:25 to attend the kibbutz shacharit before the van left at 7:00, it was probably not the wisest of my ideas. Suffice it to say that I slept the entire bus ride, maybe one of my best naps in Israel.

We arrived at the Jerusalem Bus Station at about 9:00, and since I had some time to kill, I hung out with Yehuda, Micah, and Jammin' at the food court. We played two games of Yaniv, ate a pastry breakfast, and saw David Zvi and Ezra waiting for a bus. I may have also seen Shira Wolkenfeld, the twin sister of Ezra who I think is in Israel. I didn't say hello, because I wasn't sure it was her. I also have not spoken with her since, oh, 1995. But I did stop and say hello to two members of the Shalhevet Class of 2005: Micha Saiger and Eliya Shachar, who I saw at the food court. Micha is currently at Bar Ilan, and Eliya at Hebrew University. Each is having an experience quite unlike mine. We caught up a bit, then I rejoined my friends at the station's Tower Records.

From there, I took a taxi to Katamon to pick up my (finally!) fixed laptop, then traveled to Efrat, where I am currently spending Shabbat. The taxi ride, though, wasn't without drama. The driver told me his life story: how he lived in Jerusalem his whole life, and became religious only last year; how he missed his first "real" High Holidays since he was serving in the Army Reserves (Miluyim), and how he was robbed at a gas station of all his money after taking a Chassidic Jew whose car had broken down. He told me how he had no money for Shabbat, and that his secular friends wouldn't lend him any money. His wife and four children were in tears, and his father, not religious, wasn't talking to him after he, the driver, became religious. He concluded his tale asking me for money, claiming that we were "like brothers." I was torn. On one hand, I wanted to believe him and help. On the other hand, I suspected that he might be a scammer, making up a story to get some cash. I am still unable to tell the difference, knowing that both exist in Israel, as in any country. In the end, I decided to give him some of the money I had been given by family to give for צדקה/charity.

I arrived in Efrat, where I am spending the weekend with Yoni Schwartz (see thoughtful picture, look familiar?), an Israeli who is more American than any Israeli on the program. He is a member of the junior Israeli national teams of both basketball and baseball(!). He also is a member of a yeshiva-league football team. Not soccer, football. Football!

Yoni lives in Dekel Aleph (a neighborhood in Efrat) on a street I am nicknaming "the embassy" for all the Americans who live here. We went to his flag football team practice, where I got to run around and play cornerback. And now, it's almost time for Shabbat. Enjoy.