Bibleosity? Bibleness? Biblicality? Whatever.

Thursday is my last day of Ulpan (or Intensive Language Program). Tomorrow I have my class final, and then the day after I'm taking the level final, so that I can test out of Hebrew. Then hopefully, I'll be freed of the never ending confusion of Hebrew verb conjugation and the (seemingly) eternal question, "Does a yud go here or not?", usually asked with a few more question and exclamation marks and accompanied by a tearing out of the hair. Which actually, can only help right, seeing as I already have too much hair for my own good. But moving away from hair (incidentally, today I realized that my motto these days, and by these days I mean since I cut my hair right before leaving for college in a totally cliched "Let me be freeee!" move, is "Hair before sleep." I wonder what that says about me), let's talk about how happy I will be to say goodbye the cursed (and this is said, a la Shakespeare, with emphasis on the second syllable) Ulpan.

It's not that I don't like learning Hebrew. I really do. Honest. My brain has just reached capacity. Yesterday I learned Hebrew from 8:30 to 4, pretty much straight. I seriously thought my brain was going to slide slowly out my ear and land on the ground with a disgusting splatting sound, waving a white flag. "I give!" my brain would say. "Just speak English to me!"

And yes, I am aware that brains do not a) move on their own or b) talk. But you know, given the level of Hebrew inundation I was suffering from, I don't think you can blame me for this one.

On a much more interesting note, I learned something cool in class the other day. Apparently this Israeli composer/poet type person was trying to invent a Hebrew word for "illusion" which we pronounce "iloozia" in Hebrew. He came up with "אילו זה היה", which means "if only it was so," and which we would pronounce "eeloo zeh hayah." Awesomely, this sounds a lot like iloozia. I dunno, I thought it was cool. And so creative!

Moving on from my dorkitude. This past weekend the university arranged a trip to the Dead Sea and the Ein Gedi springs nearby. I am mentioning this because, obviously, I went. The hike to the springs was the most intense thing I've done since Half Dome in Yosemite a couple summers ago, and not nearly as long thankfully (seven hours to get there and back! It was nuts!). But the thing I remember most, besides the truly incredible waterfalls, the overhanging cliffs and caves, the intense greenery, the fascinating colors of the rocks, and the view of Jordan across the water, is the feeling I got when I was sitting by the spring itself, with my feet in the cool water, hearing the water gushing from underground and filling the pool up. Our guide told us that no one is sure how long it takes the water to reach the springs, but they estimate that the water coming out now is 400 years old. I find that unbelievable. There was this stunning tree that grew right by the water and its branches reached over and across from both sides, meeting in the middle and hanging down low over the water, forming this sort of roof over the spring. The wood was pale and there were no leaves, and I couldn't even tell if it was alive at all, or if it was just dead wood, but there was this intensely beautiful, peaceful feeling about it, despite the thirty-something students gathered around it, talking and taking photos and generally being bothersom. When I was looking at the tree, and the blue blue sky you could see between the branches, it was like there was no one there, just me and the spring, and maybe Abraham or someone about to come around the corner.

And that's what I feel whenever I see the landscape in Israel. It's so...biblical, if that makes any sense. There's this feeling, when you look at the green hills and the brown desserts and the boulders scattered everywhere, that Israel has been, and always will be the same. It's not going to change for anyone, especially not its current, transitory, and constantly argumentative tenants, be they Palestinians, Israelis, or somewhere in between. Israel is the land of ancient stories, old beliefs, and older spirituality and the permanence is comforting.

But maybe I'm thinking about it too hard. Most likely I am. The Dead Sea was incredible too, and pretty much just as salty as you would expect from water that's 33% salt. Let me tell you, friends, that is a lot of salt to get in the little cuts in your feet from the hike and the pointy, salt-encrusted rocks. But I'm happy to report that the stories are indeed true. You can float in the Dead Sea and it just carries you along. It's the most relaxing feeling in the world. Except maybe getting out and eventually getting your feet to stop stinging.