Welcome to the Epicenter

"It's a good thing the health insurance was mandatory."

That was the first phrase out of my mouth yesterday as we departed for orientation. Water was everywhere. The floors in the stairwell were soaked with suds dripping from the top floor to the very bottom. These dorms were literally just completed and construction and cleaning was still ongoing.

We carefully made our way down. I slipped at about the fourth floor and was within a hand's breadth away of going from scholar to plaintiff. Fortunately I was able to catch myself. One of the European kids (forgive my inability to denote his nationality) made a snide remark to one of the cleaning ladies about it being a "bleeping swimming pool in here." A decent one-liner if not a disrespectful one.

We assembled at the gate at around 9:00 a.m. where the Madrichim were preparing to take us on our campus tour. Ryan, Dominique, and I ran in to Dustin and a kid named Mike. I met Mike in the El Al terminal in New York. He's from California and is one of those genuinely outgoing and excitable people. The thing I could tell right off the bat was that he likes people. When I told him I was from Alabama, he legitimately thought that was cool despite pegging me for a goyim (gentile) immediately. And he's gotten me to do a "southern" accent at least a half-dozen times in the past two days to the utter delight and amazement of just about everyone. Have no fears, I'm doing my best to perpetuate the stereotype. They're even convinced I date my first cousin.

The Madrichim broke us into four groups and took us east toward the front gates of Tel Aviv University. Our group leader was a young Israeli with "Ben-Gurion" glasses called Liran. The guy's always got a smile on his face and clearly enjoys immersing others into Israeli culture. He instructed the two security guards that we were in fact OSP students and not enemies of the state and took us inside the primary courtyard.

A brief moment to describe the campus. It's absolutely incredible. The pathways are lined with palm trees and constructed of a strangely smooth rock. The design is open and accomodating. And the buildings are well layed out and more modern than anything at Auburn--including both Lowder and Shelby. There's a massive grove in front of the Carter Building where the OSP office for overseas students is located. And an impressive looking synagogue that Liran affectionately referred to as "The Factory."

As we were being taken around the campus, big Dustin and I were discussing how we were going to be able to watch college football on Sunday mornings. Our options seem limited. But we figure we can tailgate on our balconies. War Eagle.

Liran took us inside the Social Work Building for the last part of our tour. It was here that we were going to meet some of the instructors and be given our Hebrew Placement Test. And it was also here that I realized I had stepped in what appeared to be...cat feces. Nothing like the waft of animal waste to set the mood.

I was trying not to vomit. Dominique and Dustin were trying not to laugh. More than a few people started smelling underneath their armpits. Cats will die for this infraction.

After being briefed on our program, we were divided into groups for the Hebrew Placement Test. I literally took the test, wrote my name on it, and turned it back in. What a relief to see about thirty others doing the same, including Dustin, Ryan, and Dominique. Looks like most of the MAMEH students will be joining me in the Hebrew remedial classes. Crank up the short bus, we're going for a ride!

Following up on the Hebrew test, we meandered outside to get our Israeli cellphones and grab some lunch. Dustin and I met up with a guy named Chris from San Diego, who reminds me of Uncle David. He has a dry sense of humor and is pretty poignant with his commentary. Chris is in Tel Aviv studying in preparation for med-school. He wants to work with the Save A Child's Heart (SACH) program centered in Israel that works on neo-natal heartcare for Iraqi, Palestinian, and Jordanian children. Like us, he is also non-Jewish and happens to be a conservative. The cabal numbers three.

Lunch was confusing. I couldn't read anything and the cafeteria on campus was not English-friendly. Dustin and I went with sweet potatoes, kuskus, and a fish ball. Good call. Middle Eastern food is surprisingly copacetic for my apetite. Sidebar: kuskus is like a rice-ish substance. Russell Crowe mentions it to Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie Body of Lies. And yes, I just did a pop culture name drop. Shoot me.

Of the some hundred and thirty kids here from all over the world, exactly half are from the United States with most of the others coming from Europe, Canada, and Australia. The interesting thing I've noted is that all the people I've met thus far in the MAMEH program are non-Jewish. Chris met one of these foreign students, a girl from Italy, and brought her over to where Dustin and I were finishing up lunch and discussing life in Washington D.C. Chris was clearly trying to impress her to little avail. I knew he was in trouble as soon as he asked her if, and I quote, "So do Italians still catch shit for Mussolini?"

No, Chris. Just, no.

Following the Italian girl's immediate departure, the next move was to sign up for our student ID cards and our health insurance cards. We were intentionally misled to the OSP office by the lady at the front desk who told us to take a "left, a left, and a left." Between Dustin, Chris, and myself, it took five minutes to realize we could have just taken a right. Messing with the big, dumb Americans. Very funny.

We signed up and decided to head back to our dorms. Chris unfortunately stays at the Brodetsky dorms, which are, to put it nicely, sub-par. We crashed for the better part of the night until my roommates, Ryan and Dominique, had an itch to go to the beach. We convinced Dustin to come along and decided to take a cab.

The cabbie was definitely a plant by the RNC. From the first minute we entered until the last second we exited, the cabbie did nothing but attack Obama. Dustin and I were laughing hysterically. Ryan kept a grin on his face. Dominique, our resident French-Canadian, was fuming with anger. According to our cabbie, Obama is a Muslim mother *insert expletive here* who doesn't make good on his promises and who, if walking down the street in Tel Aviv, he would roll down the window and shout "Go to hell Obama!"

Looks like the rumors of Israeli discontent toward Obama are accurate.

We arrived at the beach, calmed Dominique down (much to my chagrin), and took a stroll across the boardwalk. Tel Aviv is breathtaking. The city is cosmopolitan in a way that cities in America cannot possibly emulate. As I mentioned previously, Israelis go about their business and they go about it with purpose. Tel Aviv is an extension of that mindset. It is a definitively Israeli city that makes no apologies for not accommodating a multicultural identity. There is no "China town" or "Little Italy." There's just Tel Aviv.

Outdoor restaurants littered the beach as embassies and hotels towered behind us. An IDF patrol boat maneuvered offshore firing flares for illumination in case of potential sea intrusions. El Al planes came through the cloud-littered sky at regular intervals as the waves of the Mediterranean softly washed ashore.

"This is pretty cool, no?" Dominique quipped.

As another flare lit up the sky, I couldn't help but agree.