Dear Aaron and Wayne,

Shalom! I've just arrived in Tel Aviv, and have successfully settled in to the dorms here. It's a long way from Hampshire, but the people here seem nice and I'm sure more will be around once the Sukkot holiday is over--many of the students here are travelling right now.

I've tried to keep my travel blog up to date, but in case you haven't read it I'll give you a brief update on where I've been for the past few weeks. I flew into Manchester, UK two weeks ago to stay with a friend who goes to the university there. We drove to London for the weekend to stay with her parents for Yom Kippur, and we spent the weekend exploring the city. London is beautiful. The old buildings throughout the city are unlike anything I've ever seen. The first thing that struck me about being in England is that everything is smaller--the roads, the buildings, the cars, even the people. A two-way street in England is often just wide enough for one (tiny) car to fit through while the car going in the opposite direction has to dodge into a driveway to let the other pass. You can just feel the history in the cities, even in Manchester, which isn't the nicest place in the world, everything has a certain charm to it. It reminded me a lot of how I felt when I moved from North Carolina to Massachusetts to go to Hampshire--they really do call it New England for a reason!

My first days in London were all about absorbing the aesthetic of the city. In addition to the architecture, my friend, Ami, showed me her favorite spots in the city, which included the chic designer hub of Carnaby Street. It's head-to-toe in London. Clothes are more textural, less flashy. Everything is. I took tons of pictures to keep for aesthetic inspiration.

I also got my first taste of the London theatre scene. We went to see a show called Blood Brothers, a decidedly British musical which hasn't really left London's theatre scene except for a few amateur productions here and there. It's not a big name show but one everyone in London has seen and is widely regarded by locals as one of, if not the single best show in London. It was a modern take on the Cain and Abel story, wherein there's a very poor woman [who clearly didn't have access to contraception or even the knowledge thereof] who has about 12 kids and when she gets pregnant yet again her husband leaves her to take care of them alone. She works as a cleaning lady for a rich woman who's unable to conceive, and the two of them agree that since she's pregnant with twins she'll give one of the babies to her rich employer, and therefore get to see him every day anyway and be assured that his needs would be cared for. Well as these things tend to go, the rich woman fires the real mother of her son because she doesn't want him to know he's adopted, doesn't tell him he has a brother, and forbids him from playing with his twin while the two boys grow up on opposite ends of town. They become best friends regardless, never knowing they're brothers, one rich and one very poor. The rich brother goes to college, and the poor brother works in a factory, gets laid off, gets framed for murder, goes to jail, becomes so depressed he's put on medication that keeps him drugged all the time. When he gets out of jail his relationship with his wife deteriorates because of the anti-depressants he's addicted to, and ends up accidentally killing his rich brother and his shot by the police.

There are a few really interesting things about this play. First, there's a detached narrator figure who is always watching over the action of the play, but has a very sinister quality about him. He intervenes every now and then to remind the characters that they can't escape their fate--the rich woman warned the poor mother that if the boys ever found out they were separated twins, they'd die on the same day. I felt strongly throughout the show that his character was either the devil or "Fate" personified, but the educational materials I found on the show don't give any indication that's the intention, at least of this production. Second, the narrator/devil/fate character gives a line at the end that made me forgive the play for not actually being at all like Cain and Abel. After the two twins are dead, he says something along the lines of "Was it fate, or was it what the English have come to know as Class?" Ultimately, it's a play about the detrimental and far-reaching effects of poverty and social class. Two identical people, brought up in opposite societal spheres, and the poor one of course ends up a victim of his circumstance. What would have made this clearer, I think, would have been more time spent showing the similarity of the characters growing up--that they really are in essence the same person, just affected differently by their class. They do show that both of them are essentially good people, which worked well with the theme. And the same adult actors played their characters from childhood through adulthood, and were EXTREMELY talented in this regard. I was very impressed.

I spent Yom Kippur with Ami's family in London, and we went to her (sort of) Orthodox synagogue for Kol Nidre services. I think it was the first time I've been in a non-egalitarian service--my ultra-orthodox cousins all had bat mitzvahs, but since they're girls it didn't involve any actual leading of the service, just a party. It was interesting. All married women were wearing elaborate hats much like Southern ladies wear to church. Ostensibly, the hats were to "cover their hair", but didn't even pretend to make an effort to actually use the hat for that purpose. According to Ami, these were people who weren't Orthodox in their daily lives, only the couple of times a year they went to services. Ami says her family is the same way, and she too isn't crazy about the idea that she's not allowed to participate fully in the service as a woman and has to sit in a separate section, but they still define themselves as Orthodox and wouldn't go to a different synagogue. I had a lot of trouble grasping this apparent hypocrisy. I felt profoundly uncomfortable in the service, sitting removed from the action and with women who mostly were chatting to one another and not participating. But honestly, I thought as I was sitting there, why should they? They're not expected to participate anyway. I didn't like that. I also didn't like not being allowed to wear my tallit on Yom Kippur. And I didn't understand why families who don't observe Orthodoxy in their lives can also have such a strict view of what is and isn't allowable in Judaism (by these false, assumed Orthodox standards). It will be interesting comparing this to what I find here in Israel where the pervasive Jewish identity is decidedly secular.

After the weekend in London, I flew to Barcelona for a few days. Barcelona is absolutely beautiful. The architecture of that city was a striking contrast to that of London. Antoni Gaudi, who died in the late 1920s, is Barcelona's star architect. His style is unmistakable. There's never a straight line to be seen. Everything is curved, bulbous, and more than vaguely reminiscent of something you'd find in a Dr. Seuss book. I can't find the words to describe it, so I'm going to attach some pictures. Some are of the Sagrada Familia, a cathedral designed by Gaudi whose construction was started nearly a hundred years ago and is still underway. It is by far the biggest landmark architectural attraction in the city. The exterior, nearly complete, is on one side a modernist, geometric design and on the other a more classical one--but looks as if it were made of dripped candle wax. As I said, it's really hard to describe. It's a decidedly modern cathedral, which is really cool to see in a place with so much history. Gadi died far before it's completion, as did many people who were alive when construction began. That's interesting to think about. I've also included a picture of the Gaudi tiles which pave all the major pedestrian streets in the city. According to the museum exhibit in the crypt of the Sagrada Familia, the tiles show Gaudi's inspirations taken from nature as they form nautilus shells and sea anemones when placed together.

When I got back to London, I had a couple more days to do some sightseeing, all of which was cool, but the highlight was definitely my tour of the Rose theatre. Shakespeare nerd that I am, I of course wanted to see the new reconstructed Globe theatre. I wanted to get tickets for Antony and Cleopatra which was playing there, but they were sold out as it was the last show of their season. So instead I signed up for a tour, only they couldn't bring a tour group through the Globe because there was a play going on in there, so they do tours of the Rose during showtimes. I happened to be the only one to show up, so I had a private tour with a very knowledgeable and very funny tourguide. He took me through the streets where the old bear baiting arena was, and to the sites of the first through third Globe theatres (the current one is the fourth). The main attraction, of course, was the excavation site of the Rose theatre where Christopher Marlowe's plays were performed. The ruins are seen from a raised observation deck, but my tourguide was trying to impress me so he took me into the "staff only" section--which is the actual grounds of the Rose. So I got to stand in the remains of the Rose theatre. That was pretty cool.

While in Barcelona, I met a guy named Dan who was staying at my hostel and who works for a British MP. He offered to give me a tour of parliament when we got back to London, so of course I took him up on it. We talked extensively about our respective political systems, which was particularly interesting as both of us have worked in a somewhat behind-the-scenes capacity in our governments. The British political system is really screwed up! I thought the House of Lords was basically just for show these days and had been stripped of all their power, but apparently that's not the case at all. They review all legislation passed by the Commons and have the power to amend it. They also serve as the highest court in the land--the equivalent of the Supreme Court. There are lots of funny, arcane traditions. For instance, at the beginning of each time the houses sit (meaning pretty much every day they're in session) there's a ceremony where the Lords send the speaker of the House of Commons giant gold mace in procession down to the House of Commons, and the Commons have to either let them in (meaning they're going to work with them that day) or refuse them (meaning they refuse to work with them, although this rarely happens). On formal occasions, the Lords wear wigs. There's a huge throne in the House of Lords where the Queen sits at the commencement of each parliamentary session.

I also saw the derivations of a few interesting phrases. The two houses of Parliament at Westminster and the two exits are connected by long hallways which intersect in a large circular room called Central Lobby. According to tradition, any person wishing to speak to their MP could go to Central Lobby and demand an audience, to which the MP had to comply. From this, we get the verb "to lobby", which is, as you know, what I spent my summer doing. Central Lobby is elaborately decorated, with a patron saint for one of the four members of the United Kingdom on the walls above each of the four halls. My friend explained that the Patron Saint of Ireland marks the hall that leads to the entrances and exits "because they don't know whether they're coming or going.") I also got to see the "lines" from the phrases "party lines", "crossing a line", and "toe the line". It seems the House of Commons had a problem in it's early days with MPs becoming enraged and drawing swords on one another on the floor of the House. Instead of banning swords, they marked two lines, one in front of the seats for MPs in the majority party (called the "government") and one in front of the seats on the other side of the floor for MPs of the minority party (the "opposition"). Unlike in the US house where both parties are seated facing the same direction, the parties here face each other, and the distance across the floor between the two lines is that of two swords laid end to end. That way, so long as no one "crossed the party line", no one could get hurt. There's also a much different view of partisanship in the British political system. MPs are expected to always be loyal to the party, and bipartisan efforts that cut across "party lines" are seen as affronts, not as favorable protocol. If an MP is saying something on the floor in conflict at all with the party, other MPs of their party will yell "toe the line", as if to say "either stay on our message or cross the line to their side".

It was also interesting to observe the way the MP's office works after seeing how elected officials' offices work on Capitol Hill. For one thing, their staffs are a lot smaller. And MP staffers, unlike Hill staffers, are not all out to jumpstart their campaign for Prime Minister. Most of them see it as just a job, and they're not nearly as egotistical about it as Hill staffers are. Also, individual MPs' staffs are a lot smaller. I think my friend was one of three that work in their MP's office. The typical Congressman/woman has at least 7 or 8 full time staff and 6 interns or so, and Senators' offices have even more. Dan's boss, as a female MP, was working on a lot of the same issues I worked on at NCJW and CLPP, which was interesting to see ias Britain is much better on women's issues than America. Also, the day I visited, Dan's office was hosting the kickoff for the Schools for Africa campaign wherein British schoolchildren fill boxes with school supplies and send them to Africa for schoolchildren there. Annie Lennox came to show her support and demonstrate what kind of items should go in the boxes. (Apparently in the British vernacular, a "rubber" is an eraser--I thought they were being a bit presumptuous putting those in the boxes until someone explained that to me.)

I learned a lot from my two weeks of travel, and I'm excited to start my program here. Classes start on Monday, and the office opens on Sunday so I'll go there in the morning to register for my Hebrew and Arabic classes. I got in touch with Ziv Voloshin, the technical director of the Arab-Hebrew Theatre, and I'm meeting him Sunday evening at the theatre to discuss what I'll be doing. I've also been put in touch with the director of Peacechild Israel, another theatre-for-coexistence organization, so I may try to at least observe their work if not do some work for them, depending on my schedule.

Aaron: I have plans to see Samantha and Rachel this weekend--Rachel is on Sukkot break so she's coming up tomorrow and Samantha is going to Haifa this weekend so she's going to stop in Tel Aviv for the day, probably on Saturday. She says to tell you she owes you an email and will write you soon. Rachel and I are going to check out a cool congregation in Tel Aviv I found out about through someone from my Havurah this summer. Here's their website: http://www.joinkby.com/beit-tefilah/index.html. I'm sure we'll both let you know how it is. We still all think you should tell Hampshire you have to go to Israel this semester because all of your students are here.

Wayne: I've got a lot of work left to do on my play, and now that I'm here I'm finally able to do it. I want to have another draft done by early November so I can tweak until mid-December when I give a final version (or a "minor amendments only" version) to my production team.

Alright, I've officially rambled on enough. I'll let you know how things progress.

Cheers to you both from Tel Aviv,