Time Warp

I just looked at the calendar, and I realized that, hey, we are already halfway through January! Isn't that insane?! September, October, November, December, half of January-- gone like that, pfft! The time here just flies by in an almost unconscious manner. As one of the Americans noted, "I've never been in a place where both the days and weeks go by so quickly."

The individual days vanish in the blink of an eye. I remember how in high school, the days would drag on forever. And even though the days are much longer here, they seem to pass by so much faster. You wake up for davenning, then breakfast, then you're halfway through the morning shiur when you realize, hey, it's 10:30 already! Shiur, lunch, mincha and it's 3:15. Shiur, bkiyut gmara, another shiur, dinner at 7:15. It almost seems to go by faster than the time it took me to read this sentence, or for you to read it. And, of course, the evenings of basketball, internet, movies, whatever.

And not just the individual days. High school days went by slow, but the weeks went by slower. The weekend always seemed to be so far off, and the months dragged on right until May of senior year. Here, however, we seem to be in some sort of a time warp. The days fly by to the extent that we are always asking ourselves "is it an out shabbat already?" We get back on a Sunday, which becomes Tuesday, as Tuesday considers Monday almost a formality. I mean, Monday is there, but it just seems to vanish. Then again, we're at Wednesday before we can remember that it was Tuesday, and then before you know it, we're watching our Thursday night movie thinking, what happened to our week? Friday is always a short day, and while Shabbat is nice, the end brings us back to the end, and the beginning.

For the reason of our time warp, I am glad that I am keeping this blog. I can look back on all I did and say, "Whoa, that was fun," or "Hey, I enjoyed that movie," or "I can't believe that was September!" Because before I know it, the year will be gone, and this will be the tangible recollection I will cherish. I was never one to keep a diary, as my hand got bored of writing, and I never liked to read my own handwriting; but this, this I can do.

Anyway, another Shabbat came and went here. We finished the book of Genesis, and I even got called up for the seventh aliyah, which was nice. The weather changed from sun to haile during davenning, meaning many of us had to walk to the lunchroom without a sufficient rain coat. I delivered my Dvar Torah to some of the guys at lunch (remarkable because I did it in Hebrew), and played Settlers of Catan after lunch. We feasted upon Cholent Bowl VI, which was not bad. It wasn't good, since Jason was away and didn't cook it. No, the chefs were these two cooking idiots. And once again, before we could turn around, Shabbat was over, and now I'm here.


I watched an excellent movie, "The Usual Suspects," tonight. Kevin Spacey was Oscarly excellent, and most of the other actors were very solid. Christopher McQuarrie's screenplay, however, was sheer genius, teasing and twisting in an addictively thrilling manner. Also Oscarly. (Is that even a word? It is now!) The last scene tied the movie together masterfully, so much so that I watched the last five minutes again. There are still some points that I don't fully get, but I still appreciate the masterpiece I have just watched.

Verbal: You think you can catch Keyser Soze? You think a guy like that comes this close to getting caught, and sticks his head out? If he comes up for anything it'll be to get rid of me. After that... my guess is you'll never hear from him again.

Verbal: Keaton always said, "I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him." Well I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.

Verbal: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And poof. Just like that, he's gone.

Additionally, tonight I talked with Leor about what I wrote about my stay at Mevaseret. I will not retract what I wrote. However, I will admit that I may have been in the wrong about how I scathingly described the place. Part of that came from Leor, who unforgivably criticized his yeshiva while I was there. But he explained his sentiments, telling me tonight that "it's different when you criticize your family than when someone else does." I guess that's kind of true; he's been there for months and knows what it's like. I, however, based my entire perception on my few days there as well as his comments that leaned more negative than positive. We both assume blame for this misunderstanding.

I guess part of me was looking for reason to dislike Mevaseret to improve my own perception of Ma'aleh Gilboa. I did not see the things that I did not want to see, and Leor's criticism served only to fuel that drive. I know that Ma'aleh Gilboa is right for me, and I also know that Mevaseret is right for other people. Perhaps I was too harsh in my perception, not taking into account that Mevaseret people have feelings, er, Mevaseret people can read, er, Mevaseret people probably love their yeshiva in the same way that I love mine. I do not regret my bluntness, but perhaps I was a bit too quick to judge. For that, I apologize to Leor and to the Mevaseret crowd in general. Except the Australian. He knows why.