lech lecha

ISRAEL.
I am so. Totally. In Israel.
I'll start from the beginning.

On Tuesday morning I boarded a 10:00 flight to New York JFK. I spent the next four or so hours chatting blandly with the girls of the BYU basketball team (who had me almost surrounded) and a group of LDS missionaries on their way to Poland or Russia or...or someplace.

I met up with the other AMHSI kids in New York, and it was really, really awkward. And quite frankly not fun at all. Oh, and Mom? You know how you thought I had way too much stuff? Comparatively, I am a hobo. I brought one big big duffel, my messenger bag, and a backpack. There was one girl with a matching 5-piece floral luggage set, and another with at least three duffel bags the size of my entire body. So let's hear one for packing comparatively light! But yeah, so I talked to some of the kids as we worked our way through El Al check-in and security, which was bizarre and incredibly thorough. The woman I talked to asked me to write my name in hebrew, and then grilled me about what Reconstructionism is, and then told me to have a nice flight. Yahoo!

At midnight we boarded the plane to Tel Aviv-Yafo. It was a gigantic plane--three seats on one side, an aisle, five more seats, and aisle, and then three seats again. Business class was on the second floor. Yes. The second floor. It was a goddamned DOUBLE DECKER PLANE. My friend Jack tried to sneak up to scope it out, but I guess the hoodie and the ratty jeans gave him away because the flight attendants made him sit back down.

(Okay, I've got to go to an all-dorm meeting. I'll continue this later today, I promise! Emails and letters soon, as well.)

xoxoxo