But no-one came to visit me :(
Apart from community service, the thing that I'll remember about yesterday was the back-to-back Aaron special. First, Aaron Gabba conducted a shiur about the nation of Amalek. I was impressed by the level of thought and the organization of material, but what stood out to me was the presentation and delivery. A Dvar Torah at Shabbat lunch is one thing; a full hour-plus shiur, allowing for interaction, tangents, and the vulnerability that comes with questions is quite another. The second act of Aaron2 was the goodbye party for Aaron Abramson. Aaron is leaving one Ma'aleh for another, trading in Ma'aleh Gilboa for Ma'aleh Adumim. Though I don't know the place that well, I think YMA will be a better fit for Aaron that YMG. I think that his new place is... what is the word... shtark. Yeah, I think that's it. Anyway, Aaron gave a Dvar Torah, we had some refreshments, exchanged hugs, and that effectively ended his time here. We wish you the best, Aaron. The Learnometer* will feel the effects of your departure. Godspeed.
Today was Visitors Day, when parents of all the Israelis came to the yeshiva to visit their sons. It was kind of awkward being an American, being alone, kinda. Yoni Schwartz's mom offered to be my family, noting how sad it was how all the Americans are alone. This is one of those times where I really felt different from the Israelis, a stranger in a strange land. Everyone has their nice beds, their home cooking, their friends and family, to see every other weekend; meanwhile, every other weekend I have to find a place to stay, feeling like... well, yes, like a guest, but also kind of superfluous. Like I'm a bonus to have, but not really part of the family. I'm starting to prefer In Shabbats, when I feel like I am more at home. This yeshiva, for the year, is my home; all my clothes, my belongings, my bed, is here. Finding somewhere to be every other weekend feels so... what's the word?
We had a special dinner to impress the parents, who must've naturally assumed that we have steak for dinner every night here. Some of the Americans sat at the "orphan table," as we did not have any family here. And after the Israelis went home with their families, this place became an American yeshiva. Yep, all eight of the students here were American. How about that-- I am at an American place after all. For one night.
Lastly, a belated happy birthday to my aunt Lizzie, to whom I did not have the opportunity to wish a happy birthday in yesterday's non-post.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to Lizzie,
Happy birthday to you!
*Learnometer [lern-AW-meh-tur] (noun): a ficticious device that measures the amount of learning occuring at a given moment in a given Beit Midrash. Invented by the great V.A. Kreplutsky, the Learnometer is measured in JT/h (Jewish thoughts per hour). The definition, value, and size of a given yeshiva's Jewish thought is carefully calculated by a team of sages, mathematicians, and anesthesiologists (heretofore referred to as "SaMatAn") as it relates to a constant k. Don't ask how SaMatAn calculates this; only the twenty-nine man committee knows, and as I am neither a sage, mathematician, or anesthesiologist, I have no way of knowing. k is a constant SaMatAn establishes for every yeshiva at Rosh Hashana, and varies on the size and population of the Beit Midrash. k is defined as:
where (Sa+Ra) is the actual yield of the sum of students and rabbis, (St+Rt) is the theoretical yield of the sum of same students and rabbis, (T+G+P) is the sum of the Torahs, Gmaras, and Philosophy books available in the Beit Midrash, and [D]3 is the cube of the total distractions that will detract from Torah study. If k is greater than zero, much learning is going on; if k is less than or equal to zero, you have probably entered a bar on Ben Yehuda street. If k is between 1 and 20, you're in a bad yeshiva; if it's between 21-40, you're in a decent yeshiva; if it's between 41-60, you're in a good yeshiva; if it's between 61-80, you're in an excellent yeshiva; and if k is between 81-99, you should consider applying for a position on SaMatAn (unless, of course, you're an anesthesiologist, in which case you should send them you're medical records as well). And if the value of k is 100, the Messiah has arrived. Duh.
Today was Visitors Day, when parents of all the Israelis came to the yeshiva to visit their sons. It was kind of awkward being an American, being alone, kinda. Yoni Schwartz's mom offered to be my family, noting how sad it was how all the Americans are alone. This is one of those times where I really felt different from the Israelis, a stranger in a strange land. Everyone has their nice beds, their home cooking, their friends and family, to see every other weekend; meanwhile, every other weekend I have to find a place to stay, feeling like... well, yes, like a guest, but also kind of superfluous. Like I'm a bonus to have, but not really part of the family. I'm starting to prefer In Shabbats, when I feel like I am more at home. This yeshiva, for the year, is my home; all my clothes, my belongings, my bed, is here. Finding somewhere to be every other weekend feels so... what's the word?
We had a special dinner to impress the parents, who must've naturally assumed that we have steak for dinner every night here. Some of the Americans sat at the "orphan table," as we did not have any family here. And after the Israelis went home with their families, this place became an American yeshiva. Yep, all eight of the students here were American. How about that-- I am at an American place after all. For one night.
Lastly, a belated happy birthday to my aunt Lizzie, to whom I did not have the opportunity to wish a happy birthday in yesterday's non-post.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to Lizzie,
Happy birthday to you!
*Learnometer [lern-AW-meh-tur] (noun): a ficticious device that measures the amount of learning occuring at a given moment in a given Beit Midrash. Invented by the great V.A. Kreplutsky, the Learnometer is measured in JT/h (Jewish thoughts per hour). The definition, value, and size of a given yeshiva's Jewish thought is carefully calculated by a team of sages, mathematicians, and anesthesiologists (heretofore referred to as "SaMatAn") as it relates to a constant k. Don't ask how SaMatAn calculates this; only the twenty-nine man committee knows, and as I am neither a sage, mathematician, or anesthesiologist, I have no way of knowing. k is a constant SaMatAn establishes for every yeshiva at Rosh Hashana, and varies on the size and population of the Beit Midrash. k is defined as:
Sa+Ra ● (T+G+P)
St+Rt [D]3
where (Sa+Ra) is the actual yield of the sum of students and rabbis, (St+Rt) is the theoretical yield of the sum of same students and rabbis, (T+G+P) is the sum of the Torahs, Gmaras, and Philosophy books available in the Beit Midrash, and [D]3 is the cube of the total distractions that will detract from Torah study. If k is greater than zero, much learning is going on; if k is less than or equal to zero, you have probably entered a bar on Ben Yehuda street. If k is between 1 and 20, you're in a bad yeshiva; if it's between 21-40, you're in a decent yeshiva; if it's between 41-60, you're in a good yeshiva; if it's between 61-80, you're in an excellent yeshiva; and if k is between 81-99, you should consider applying for a position on SaMatAn (unless, of course, you're an anesthesiologist, in which case you should send them you're medical records as well). And if the value of k is 100, the Messiah has arrived. Duh.
posted by Yoni Bain | 1:23 PM
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