1972-1973

The Aftermath: 

Or Now That We've Arrived 

Yesterday, no was it Monday, well actually maybe Wednesday, 

or was that the day we lost? 

Anyway, we arrived. 

We were greeted 2:00 in the morning Israeli time— 

(8:00 p.m. 

Baltimore, Pittsburgh, or Miami time, 7:00 p.m. Chicago time, and 

5:00 p.m. in Oregon)— with a friendly, 

"Shalom studentim. We've arranged a reception for 

you— grapes, cookies, and soda. Later we will have 

singing and dancing led by our own Israeli army. But 

first, go into the room on your left with your passport. 

There you will pick up your room assignment and keys. 

BE SURE TO SIGN FOR THEM IN TRIPLICATE. Then proceed 

across the hall and pick up a desk lamp and one, faded, 

dirty, old, spotted bedspread which must also be SIGNED 

FOR IN TRIPLICATE (of course) and then, if it's still 

there, pick up your luggage which was left in the parking 

lot. Return immediately and you will be escorted to 

your new room by our computer chosen Israeli soldier 

who will make sure that you have all the comforts of 

home (except sheets, mother, and a full-sized bed. And 

we will see you all tommorrow morning at 8:15, "brighteyed 

and bushy-tailed," for REGISTRATION. (And if that's 

too early, don't worry, come at 8:30, 9:00, 10:00 . . . 

you're in Israel now)." 

(continued) 

- 2-

Yes, Israel, the land of milk and honey; where milk comes in 

plastic bags and honey can't be found because you haven't learned how 

to say it yet. 

* * * 

After a barrage of carbon copies, I.D. cards, health forms, 

housing applications, questionnaires, and completion of payments, we 

were officially "WELLCOMED" (as it was written on the official 

blackboard) to the One Year Program of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 

Mt. Scopus Campus. 

"Now that the tedious bureaucratic procedures are over with, 

let’s go and explore this new country on our own." 

"Great Idea! 

Uh . . . where do you want to go Mona?" 

"Well, how about . . . the POST OFFICE?" 

The post office. How simple it sounds, but how difficult it 

really is. First difficulty— How to get into town without losing 

your head? 

The main source of transportation in Israel is provided by the 

Egged Bus Company. 

If you know what bus you want, where you are going, how much it 

costs, and which side of the street to wait on, you've got no problem 

at all. However an American student who knows nothing about Egged, 

has only American money, and doesn't know exactly where she's going, 

let alone where she's been . . . SCREECH! 

(continued)

"Barbara, the bus is here." 

"FAR-OUT! 

. . . . which bus?" 

"Norma, where is it going?" 

"How do I know? This is a bus isn't it? 

I think it's headed 

toward the city . . . 

"Let's get on it anyway." 

but "lo hashuv," (that means "It doesn't matter") 

"That's cool." 

"Nina, you go first'— you know Hebrew!" 

"Shalom, uh, cama, wait a minute, . . . cama ze o'leh? 

B 'vak-a-sha?" 

"Yo vant to go to the ceety? Vorty-five agarot." 

ii 

oh" 

* * * 

''continued) 

W h a t ti me 

is it when

Before coming to Israel we had been duly warned about drinking 

the water, watching our diets, the aggressive Israeli guys, the tense 

Middle East situation, the tenser situation at home if we were to come 

home married or the even tenser situation if we weren't to come home, 

pocket-book inspections upon entering every building, and bargaining 

in the Arab Market, but NO ONE TOLD US ABOUT EGGED BUSES. 

To say that a ride on an Egged bus is like a ride on a run-away 

roller coaster in a windstorm is an understatement. As novices, we had 

not as yet mastered the complicated techniques of reamaining seated 

(if we were lucky enough to have found a seat) or the ability to stand 

(which was usually the case). 

Barbara Loney 

* * * Mona Mandel 

A * * Nina Melnick 

Norma Skolnik 

[and so this is how the Red Tape unconciously began— 

July 14, 1972 

somewhere in Resnick when a few girls started recording 

their collective adventures— 

What a better INTRODUCTION, if not with the beginning?] 

- 5-

!%'p

OVERHEARD; 

Are Rarkahi's grades up yet? 

7-

Part of a letter to students on the One Year Study Program from Aaron 

M. Singer, Assistant Dean, O.Y.S.P. Dated January 25, 1973: 

Dear Student, 

We do hope that by now you have made a satisfactory adjustment to 

the Hebrew University and are beginning to take full advantage of the 

opportunities open to you in Israel. 

Conforming to a radically different system of study and making 

genuine contact with a new country in so short a period of time, is no 

easy task even for one pre-disposed to Israel. It demands an abundance 

of affection, self confidence and initiative to break the intangible but 

real culture barrier. We, on our part, will try to mitigate whatever 

possible areas of conflict and unnecessary ’’red tape." 

* * * * 

Un-beknownest to Mr. Singer, the O.Y.S.P. yearbook, Red Tape, had been 

born two days earlier somewhere in the recesses of Resnick Dorms— 

needless to say, the originators of the book had a hearty chuckle when 

the above letter appeared in their mailboxes. Point proven. . . 

- 8-

To be abroad for one year can be a bitter-sweet experience. 

You are constantly aware of the flight of days - so much to taste 

and too little time! You are caught between the demands of your 

studies and the lure of the country. Lacking adequate Hebrew and 

a healthy streak of "hutzpa", you find yourself for ever perched 

on the outer wall of Israeli society. Yet something of the land, 

the people, the history, the mystic soul of Israel steals inside 

you and no inconvenience, bureaucratic hassle, clash of cultures 

can shake the "dibbuk" loose. 

We of the School for Overseas Students genuinely hope that 

the University has, in some small measure, added an intellectual 

and spiritual demension to your experience in Israel. 

!p m n n pm pm 

Aaron M. Singer 

Assistant Dean 

One Year Study Program 

- 9-

ADMINISTRATION 

Gloria Dror 

Mel Glatzer 

Professor Y. Arieli 

•10- 

Dr. A. Avi-Hai

-11-

MY MOST FAVORITE ENTANGLEMENT WITH THE RED TAPE— 

My mother sent me eight cupcakes in a cardboard box in 

October. In December, I received a note from the post office 

telling me to come to pick up a package. When I got to the 

post office, I was told I had to go get a customs exemption 

before I could receive my package. Off I went to the customs 

office where I was given four forms, one of which was to be 

thrown away before I left. Back in the post office, I received 

my box and opened it. Under the wrapping, I found a note, 

stamped with a military seal, indicating that a security check 

had been performed. I opened the box and found that one of the 

cupcakes had been torn apart. At the bottom there was a second 

note: "This package has been subjected to security checks by 

physical and x-ray techniques and should not be eaten. Please 

ask your friends not to send suspicious boxes. Shalom ou-Baracha, 

from the Office of the President of Israel." ! ! ! 

Yale Zussman 

-12

My last package from home contained: 

-BIC pens 

-a pair of genuine American 

—a Natural Foods cookbook 

-6 rolls of scotch tape 

-underwear 

-WRIGLEY's gum 

-NOXEMA 

-crumpled Homentashen from my Temple Sisterhood 

-everything I didn't need (but wanted!) 

- 13-

BEGINNINGS 

As TWA flight 810 gathered speed for take-off, the passenger 

beside me turned to me and introduced himself as the Reverand Thomas 

Newman, bound for Jerusalem. I introduced myself and indicated I had 

the same destination, and then turned to watch the lights of America 

fade behind us. A couple of hours later, after trying to get some 

sleep, a stewardess brought the first of several airline meals that 

succeeded in deadening my appetite. While eating, Rev. Newman and I 

began to talk. He had seemed strangely familiar at first, though I 

couldn't place him. It soom developed that he knew several professors 

at my university, and then that I had met him over a year ago. I had 

already made a friend, and Israel was still hours away. Rev. Newman 

explained that he was a "commuter" from America to Jerusalem where he 

heads the Albright Institute for Archaeology. He gave me a good deal 

of practical information, items such as the location of the most 

generous money changer. 

Having never been in a jetliner before, I didn't quite know what 

to expect. The first take-off was over before I could give it a 

second thought, but the landing in Paris was different. We came down 

through the clouds, and there was the city. Far ahead of us was Orly. 

I remembered from somewhere that there is a definite click produced 

by the landing gear locking into place. I heard a whine— no click. 

Another whine--still no click. We were then maybe 1500 feet high and 

there hadn't been any click. Down some more and no click, but then a 

slight bump and we were running down the pavement. Rev. Newman took 

me in tow for a quick look at the terminal. After being searched by 

submachine gun wielding French security men, we reboarded the plane 

for the "hop" to Rome. 

Right after we got off the ground, it was time for breakfast-- 

a tray of selected items representing each of the Common Market’s 

members. Since it was now day, there was much to see below; farms 

and French villages gave way to hills, a river, bigger hills, and 

then the jagged peaks of the Alps. I was rather surprised to look 

out at one moment, and see Lake Geneva, with the city at one end— 

exactly the way it looks on maps I More snowy mountains and then the 

first forms of northern Italy. Turino, Firenze, and finally Roma. 

(continued) 

h o m e , U n iu trs i’ i t j * l T ~ 

- 14-

I was supposed to get off at Rome, claim my baggage, pass through 

immigration and customs, turn around, check my baggage to Lod, and 

rush back to the plane. I knew that Rome's airport was supposed 

to be the most inefficient in the world, and so I figured it would be 

wise to get off quickly and run over to the terminal. That, however, 

was not to be. The plane sat for about ten minutes while the ground 

crew tried to decide which door should get the stairs. Once I 

got off, I hurried into the terminal and headed straight for "immigrazia." 

I showed the guard my passport and he just sat there looking 

bored. Well, might as well pass him by. Next, I had to find my 

baggage. I asked at the information desk where I should go to get 

my baggage checked and was referred to the TWA counter. I walked out 

the same gate I came in— the guard was asleep— and explained my 

problem to the people at the TWA desk. They were most helpful. 

One of the people there came with me, back through the same gate, 

this time without stopping. I picked out my bags, and he "searched" 

them, or one of them at least. There was another H.U. student 

with us, and she also had her bags checked on to Tel Aviv. Back 

we went through the same immigration gate. The race was on; last 

call had already been made. The hand luggage I was carrying contained 

a can of deodorant which the guards found while searching 

my bag. After a conference of about five of them, the guards decided 

it was all right. The other H.U. student and I raced across 

to the plane and were the last to get on board. 

Again airborn, for what I guess is the only dangerous part 

of the flight, I started to ponder what a year in Israel would be 

like. The Aegean isles slipped by and then more blue sea. I especially 

wanted to figure out in advance what sort of emotional 

reaction I might have. The plane began to make minor changes in 

its heading, and I knew it wouldn't be long. Perhaps my whole 

life had been in preparation for the coming moment. Land lay below 

us, and there was a city off to the left. I gazed intently at 

the land passing beneath us. It was so very green; the houses 

looked neat, the roads straight. We took a turn to begin our approach 

and moments later we touched down in Israel. The year had 

begun. 

YALE ZUSSMAN 

...an Israeli soldier points 

3 vt uiVien 

- 15-

I knew I was in Israel when: 

-Everyone I asked gave me the wrong directions in perfect Hebrew 

how to get to the Knesset, 

-The price of falafel rose. 

-The first soldier I saw was wearing a Yamulka. 

-The customs people at Lod were rude. 

-I had to wait on line for 5 hours, in order to go through a 

registration procedure which took J5 minutes. 

-I waited on line for 2 hours, only to be sent upstairs to 

wait on another line, 

-I had my pocketbook searched on the way ill to a store and not 

on the way out, 

-I walked through a slum neighborhood at night, and did not get 

mugged. 

-I nearly got killed crossing the street. 

PEARL BORGER 

-16-

CINDERELLA'S SHOE AND THE PODIATRIST 

some day 

one day i'm going to wake up and know hebrew fluently and dance 

every balkan dance perfectly and remember the name of every 

single plant and tree in israel immediately (on sight and smell) 

and accept every guest and occurence peacefully 

beautifully. 

well, so much for one day. now, besides my dreams, together 

with my dreams, my life continues now down that bumpy uphill 

dusty battlegrounded road derech. well-said, ah. continues, 

other passengers in my life get on and off, like the dreams, when 

they have other engagements, or when they run out of fare money, 

although sometimes they do manage to bribe or hide their safe-ish 

way another day, another mile, another kilometre, 

onwards zionward. i always hated the family pesach seder haggada 

translation of the whole part of "next year in jerusalem." so 

i came here myself, to find out what it means to live in the 

future in the middle of the present, now, is zion a road,or 

a passenger (or a vehicle?)? all i know is it is keeping the 

driver occupied, oh, that's the i of our story, you see. well 

one day last july i decided to stop driving blind, that is, 

without more compatible companions on that road, and so i 

changed directions and hopped zionward. new passengers with wierd 

baggage came along, often making it hard to go straight on without 

rest stops every block, so we slowed down, and then we saw nothing 

wrong in stopping every block as we did, but often i felt like i 

was getting lost, if i knew where i was, though, often it was where 

we had just left, circles, squares, triangles--i don't know 

what we were making that brought us back to the same place. 

(continued) 

- 18-

there was one place, though, i didn't mind coming back to., sometimes 

i entered through the side door--no, pretty often we did, 

we had to. some kind of construction work always going on on the 

front entrance, they said, but this one time when i went, last 

july, after going onto the new road, the result of many years 

of reconsideration we were happy enough to end up there, since 

it was just the perfect time (if not more), almost at the end of 

the block, there was a procession going over there, but i 

decided to clean up a bit and go that bit later to meet them 

there, oy. i thought i really made a booboo by not following 

them, i was turning every which corner of my mind trying to 

remember just which way to go. ah, i was just getting my 

windows dirty again, not even getting back to where i started. 

then, sort of realizing others had to be ( or should have been) 

going to the same place, i decided maybe it was about time i 

asked for directions, well time was right and so i flagged 

down an american girl (young lady) who most certainly knew 

where she was going, and even from where i had come. from, any 

way, we were getting closer to time so we joined up, i leaving 

my old revolving motorbit right where i was, with the bigtime 

place, oh they were bigtime alright--they had it seemed everything 

under control, we even got there early, even with all those 

absolutely absurd trafficcaught-type people surrounding us. 

but we got there early, what do you do? you talk, well, she 

talked, she'd been maneuvering this place (around) for a while 

already, and she knew where to get yeast for challies (and 

their hebrew counterparts even) and fake ovens (the wonder of it 

all), for she knew how far away we were to get from america's 

hearth.S. 

and right before time came the others of my group, and then, in 

time, came the rest, all of us had abandoned our vans and had 

been captured into a grand sweep of pilgrimming passengers there. 

(continued) 

- 19-

there Chow shall i describe it to you, malka?), there it was, and 

we were too, together, our comments we held down, mine at least, 

for it had been a long time coming this time, and i wanted a true 

good look and listen at this comer, 

and i saw, barely to my 

neighbor's shoulder and she to mine, and to my other neighbor's 

earlobe and to my other neighbor's book, 

ah i hadn't remembered 

that time to bring mine, you see i had been travelling for so 

long to so many lands that it was so very hard to remember just 

exactly the proper elements of each existing environment, pity, 

oh no not me. enough of that in the old country, the property 

was no longer up for sale here. now. it was time herself 

with us; although way before the final curtain, it had to be 

good, and oh, it was. i mean, altogether there, i could take 

off my old shoes and relax while still standing while recognizing 

and relishing the atmosphere, my feet could now 

be avoided, though the holiness couldn't, every lock, every feel 

in listening and touching and knowing how far we had (every 

single one of us there) travelled so far so it was so hard to 

think that we had made it up to there, the big postbox of 

the universe, in the land of antiquity herself, rambling on 

and on through our collective consciousness, we finally felt 

enough, whoa-- we had made it, front gate and all. shabbat 

shalom, shalom liyisrael. 

- 20-

A hard day at the kibbutz or: 

Hurry up, I want to go to the pool, 

- 21-

YOU KNOW YOU'RE IN ISRAEL WHEN? 

-You start doing the opposite of what is logical and find out 

it's right. 

-You take off the wrapper of a chocelate-covered Judah Maccabee 

only to find a slightly defaced Santa Claus. 

-You've had your first "shilshul" attack. 

-Guards check you when you enter a store, but not when you leave 

-You can't find a telephone that works. 

-It's December 25th and you're sitting in class. 

WHEN I GROW UP I'D LIKE TO BE: 4 

— Golda Meir 

I 

— An Egged Bus Driver ^ 

— The man who hands out tickets to the Scopus Menza 

•— An American tourist 

— King 

The things we like best about Israelis are: 

-their strong patriotism and honesty (sometimes) 

-their names 

-the way that they say "! anno na" 

and last but not least 

-they are confined to Israel 

The things we dislike most about Israelis are: 

-their elbows 

-their low opinion of almost all American values 

-their overactive eyes 

-their lack of humor 

- 22-

THE FIRST DAY 

I jumped out of bed and blinked my eyes. Looking around, I 

saw two narrow hard cots, a desk, and a closet— my new home. 

The sun was streaming in through our curtainless window and it 

was apparent that it would be a beautiful day. 

Walking with my roommate from Shikunei HaElef to our first 

meeting in Maizer, I started discussing how nice it was being on 

Mt. Scopus. We had been notified on numerous information sheets 

that upon arrival In Israel we would be living on M t . Scopus and 

it seemed reasonable for me to assume that this is where I had 

been taken. My first and by no means last mistake that I made 

was to make such a reasonable assumption. . . 

Later in the day I went to the bank with hopes of opening 

an account. There is no need to go into the □ ■'tns here since 

everyone of you probably went through the same thing. I just 

want to remind you how you had to wait a half hour for the man to 

give you a piece °f paper to fill out and then you had to go to 

the end of the line and wait another half hour only to be told . . . 

need I go on? 

Remember the first time you tried to call your relatives? 

I found the number of my aunt in Tel-Aviv, put in an j i d’dk and 

dialed. My cousin answered and I started telling her how everything 

was wonderful when we were suddenly disconnected. I thought 

I had by accident touched something on the phone, so I put in 

another fia’OK and got my cousin. We spoke another minute or so, 

and the same thing happened. I was now stupified. I looked around 

suspiciously, thinking perhaps someone had snuck up and touched 

my phone. While I was looking around I happened to notice instructions 

explaining how to use the phone. The mystery was solved— 

and off I went to buy not one, but ten, 

LEAH CARMI 

- 23-

W-DAY 

The dreaded day had finally arrived. 

I had run out of clean 

clothes. I had heard a rumor about washing machines somewhere 

and I decided to investigate. At the time I was living in Shikunei 

HaElef. The machines were in the basement of a building in Shikunei 

HaKiryah. I piled up all my dirty clothes and started out with 

the thought in mind that within an hour I'd be through with this 

simple, yet unattractive task of washing clothes. 

Approaching a building, I entered, knocked on a door, and 

asked if there were any washing machines in the building. (I 

made up my own Hebrew word for washing machine, but she seemed to 

understand). I was told to goiw> ,iw>and try either building eight 

or nine. Well the third try I finally found the right place. 

I quickly found out that I needed half pound coins to make 

the machines work. A quick run down to the friendly Co-op soon 

solved that problem. Returning to the laundry room I found all 

the washers in use, so I sat down .and started to wait. At long 

last. . . an empty machine. I followed the instructions, not wanting 

to upset the machine. Clothes, check; soap, check; money, check; 

so why doesn't the stupid machine work? I spied another empty 

machine and was in the process of transferring all my clothes to 

the next machine when a friendly by stander noticed that I hadn't 

shut the door to my machine completely. Back to the first machine, 

shut the door, and magic— the machine started to work. Looking 

around I saw that the girl next to me had to keep her foot on her 

machine's door because it was broken and the water and suds kept 

leaking out. I considered myself fortunate. A half hour later 

my clothes were ready to be put in the dryer. But the dryer was not 

ready for my clothes. I was third in line so instead of wasting 

time, I figured I'd let some clothes dry outside in the sun. It 

takes about ten normal steps to get outside, but in this short distance 

I managed to trip; my nice clean, white clothes were now nice 

(continued) 

- 24-

and muddy. Boo hoo, boo hoo. I spent a half hour rinsing out 

all the mud. Only one dryer was working and I just didn’t feel 

like waiting around, so I piled up all my wet clothes and started 

back. I could barely see over the top of the pile. I also had 

to balance the box of soap and a book I'd brought along. Getting 

back to my room on the fourth row of Shikunei HaElef was not an 

easy task. It took about twice as long as usual. My roommate 

thought I'd gotten lost. It was Friday and so the next day was 

row — no classes. As I lay in bed resting, I looked at my wet 

laundry which took up every surface space available in the room. 

I had gotten through my first wash day. I knew the next time 

had to be easier since I was almost a p’m at the job. Little did 

I know . . . 

LEAH CARMI 

- 25-

- 26-

•21

- 28-

One Shabbat 

During the summer I was asked to help in preparing a traditional 

Shabbat for approximately i q o Russian immigrants who had recently arrived 

from the Soviet Union. These particular immigrants had little 

knowledge about the religious significance of Shabbat so a small group 

of University students decided to give them a taste. The people were 

living at an immigrant settlement outside of Jerusalem. Our objective 

was to be accomplished by a Friday evening prayer service followed with 

a traditional Shabbat meal and the same again on Saturday. The students 

involved in this happening stayed in the homes of American immigrants 

who were also temporarily living at the settlement. 

Friday morning was spent preparing the food, which was no easy chore 

for five people. We were then each given the names of some of the immigrants 

so we personally extended our invitation and explained what 

was to occur. At that time they were also attending an Ulpan so we 

were able to communicate in Hebrew. None of us had any knowledge of 

Russian! 

The first part of our program was the Friday evening service which 

was brief and conducted with the use of Hebrew-Russian Siddurim. Everything 

that we said and did was first explained so they would understand 

it’s significance. After the service we had a traditional Shabbat dinner 

with all the trimmings, such as wine and Challah and the traditional 

prayers (which they entailed.) After dinner we sang all the Hebrew songs 

we could think of and then they sang some Russian songs. We then went 

out doors and demonstrated a few Israeli dances. The next day was similar 

services followed by lunch. 

Three words seemingly eliminated from the Hebrew language are 

EXCUSE ME; DO YOU MIND? MAY I? 

-30

The reactions we received were quite interesting. The elderlypeople 

seemed to be recollecting long past buried memories. Their joy 

was manifested on their smiling faces. The children seemed to be enlightened. 

For them, it was an altogether new experience. They were very 

inquisitive, anxiously asking us all sorts of questions about what we 

did. They enjoyed themselves immensely. Unfortunately, the middle aged 

people seemed to be those most turned off. They took little part in the 

festivities and probably came out of curiosity or simply to recieve a 

free meal. 

I do think our little encounter with the Russian immigrants was 

successful. Although we were unable to reach everyone, it was surely 

worthwhile for those who we did reach. 

Margo Meissner 

Time to get 

a job because 

you're 

not 

getting 

any mor 

money 

from hoi 

____ j 

- 31-

DAFKA 

"What is 'dafka?"' I ’d ask my Ulpan teacher all summer. 

"I just can’t explain it. There's no word like it in English," 

she'd answer everytime. 

"Well, is it like 'stom?'" I'd inquire, dying of curiosity. 

(It had taken me two months to understand what stom was). 

"No," she'd reply everytime. "Dafka is dafka, and stom is 

stom." 

Since that was perfectly clear, I knew I'd have to find out 

the meaning of dafka by myself. It didn't take me too long to 

learn. Dafka is like a little puppy dog that follows you around 

doing annoying things to you when you least need it. You always 

know when Dafka is going to be there, but there's nothing you 

can do about it. 

One Shabbat I was preparing to take a tiyul with Anne, and 

we were late (Hint //I that Dafka will show up) . I had to go to 

the bathroom. There are three possible ones to choose from, and since 

I an very choosey, I carefully examined the three and decided to 

choose the one near the door. (Hint #2). I remembered to lock 

the door (Hint #3) and you'll never guess what I discovered a 

minute later. (Yes, surprisingly enough there was toilet paper 

there). The door was stuck. "Dafka!" I muttered, and proceeded 

to rattle the handle about thirty times. Dafka was there to stay. 

"Anne!" I screamed. . . 

After Anne had recovered laughing, we seriously sat on our 

respective sides of the door and thought about the possibilities. 

"Just climb over the wall," she offered. "You can stand on the 

toilet seat." 

I stood on the toilet seat. Since Dafka was still here, the 

seat broke. Dafka must not have been concentrating too hard, because 

I didn't fall in the toilet bowl. 

(continued) 

- 32-

Then Anne got a ladder and dafka, it was too big to fit over 

the wall. 

I was hopelessly trapped forever. 

Suddenly, an idea struck me, "Anne, why don't you get 

a stool?" I whispered to make sure that my little friend didn't 

hear. 

She lifted one stool over the wall. I stood on it. Not 

high enough. She lifted another stool over the wall, and I stood 

on the two stools. Still not high enough. She lifted a third 

stool over the wall. And that was just right. 

I painstakingly struggled over the wall, noticing that I 

dafka chose the wrong bathroom because I am a lefty and was on 

the right side of the wall. 

For three weeks, three stools piled up in the locked bathroom 

remained there. One day, Anne's friend became exasperated 

at having no stools to sit on in the kitchen. He climbed over the 

wall into the bathroom to lift the stools out. He tried the door. 

It opened and there sat Dafka, smiling. 

Harriet Molod 

- 33-

JERUSALEM----painted by the artist 

yellow and orange: 

The lemon-yellow sigh of sunshine 

quietly caressing each time-filled alley 

hiding the secrets of life. 

A maize glaze sifting a hush over synagogue, church and mosque 

containing religiosity 

G-d given grace to Man. 

Golden mist carefully meeting Man's creations— 

his sandy homes of time immemorial 

unpaved paths, connecting years long gone. 

The pale light of SILENCE 

AND 

PEACE . • . • 

Free burnt orange fires cremating town walls 

destroying G-d made unity— 

creating Black Debris. 

Zinc orange skies aflame with bustling traffic 

darting cars and screaming horns 

excluded man from his own—time domain. 

Madder orange sands, dancing with explosions 

permitting man's insane hatreds 

divided hearts once more. 

The radiant light of DEATH 

AND 

WAR . . . . 

THE YELLOW 

AND ORANGE 

JERUSALEM: 

always of peace . . . . 

and always in war . . . . 

Pearl Kisner 

- 35-

I hope that 

I ’ll be able to remember 

what it was like 

to think Jewish thoughts 

and to know 

that I was not alone . . . 

■ 36-

37

K c G o r e r n 

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SHRWER 

5 

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Pl PiNES 

a t t a c k 

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WORLD EVENTS 1972-1973: 

A STUDY IN CONTRAST 

One’s location in the world is bound to color his outlook 

on events, just as does his national background, economic standing, 

and political position. Thus, the way the members of the O.Y.S.P. 

look at the world events of 1972-73 is going to be greatly influenced 

by the fact that we spent those twelve months in Israel. Everything 

which had a bearing on Israel, from an outbreak of cholera in 

Jerusalem to the massacre of eleven Israeli athletes at the Olympics 

had a more profound impact on all of us because we were in Israel. 

No matter in which country one was during this time however, two 

major, seemingly contradictory phenomena appear: a rise in terrorist 

activity and a greater move towards detente among the major world 

powers. The former is evidenced by numerous specific and easily 

recordable events whereas thelatter is only recognizable by a trend 

of events which for the most part seem minor when taken separately. 

Terrorism broke out of its previous restriction to the Middle 

East this year. The Black September organization took its activities 

to all parts of the world in an attempt to bring their issue to the 

international fore. All of the world joined Israel in shock and 

mourning over the murder of eleven Israeli athletes at the Olympics 

in Munich. Hardly had we recovered from this when the terrorists 

hijacked a Lufthansa plane, demanding, and receiving the release of 

the three terrorists who survived the bloodshed in Munich. Israel 

experienced dej'a vu in late December as the Black September terrorists 

held as hostage Israeli diplomats in the Embassy building in Bangkok. 

Thankfully, the hostages were released. Meanwhile, a rash of letter 

bombs were being sent to anyone considered an enemy of the Palestinians, 

one killing an Israeli official in London. In what seemed as a selfdefeating 

act, the terrorists captured Jordanian, American, and Belgian 

diplomats in Khartoum, killing three top officials. This spread 

of terrorism, including numerous unsuccessful attempts not mentioned 

here, convinced most of the nations that the acts of Black September 

and other such groups are not legitimate political acts. 

(continued) 

- 40-

As for the other phenomena, the growing detente among the 

major powers, one has few specific major events upon which to rely. 

However the movement was still there, evidenced by numerous events 

and statements. The most outstanding event, both a result and a 

cause of this detente, was the cease-fire in Vietnam. With this, 

we saw the U.S. offer of economic aid to North Vietnam, the increased 

U.S.-China trade, the massive U.S.-Russia wheat sale, Dr. Kissinger's 

meeting with Mao, Japanese Premier Tanaka's visit to Peking, the 

warmer relations between West and East Germany, cease-fire in Laos, 

and numerous other agreements and beginnings towards opening of 

relations between nations. 

Generally accepted is the concept that the motives and purposes 

of violent acts are deep-rooted in the minds of those who act violently, 

especially when premeditated and done for political reasons. 

It 

is hoped that the same is true of the acts towards detente and perhaps, 

peace. 

Mike Mayersohn 

- 41-

Sinai 

Sunday 

The Sinai trip was one of the most expensive, well-^ 

attended trips of the One Year Program. Scheduled to leave Mt. 

Scopus at 5:30 on the morning October 22, we made an all time 

record of leaving before 8:00 AM. 

The buses were tightly knit 

units and I refer to the physical rather than spiritual unity. Our 

bus had 4 seats set up in that spacious aisle one foot wide. Hilights 

of lunch were choomose, bread (a feast in itself, the bread 

was still white) The first day we spent sitting in our beautiful bus 

marveling at the sand, the rocks, the sand, the rocks, the sand . . . 

The moon popped into the sky, full, bright but we saw no werewolf that 

night. (Some claim they did. I day it was a figment of their indigestion.) 

Monday The second day we started out at 5:00 AM to be 

sure and allow 2 or 3 hours to get stuck in the sand, the rocks, the 

sand, the rocks, the sand . . . which of course we did. The girls 

helpless and weak took up Seats against the granite cliffs as those 

strong virulent men pushed the buses out of those hazardous, tire 

eating sand traps. As the sun beat down, sanddust blowing, the smell 

of rubber burning, our sweating heroes managed to rescue the buses 

so all couli marvel at the sand, rocks, sky, rocks, sky. I do 

not want to forget to mention that most buses being so inspired by 

the Sinai wilderness could not help but lift their voices in song 

as their fore fathers did before them. Our bus sang, the same three 

songs, which were the only three they knew, at least 10 or 20 times 

a day. We lunched at an oasis, where we engaged in a dialogue as to 

whether we should give our scraps away or not; bread, vegetable 

spread were the hit of the day. The bread was still white, but beginning 

to feel like crusty foam rubber. At 4:00 we hit Santa Catherina 

Monastary, who instead of buring their dead, keep their bones 

inside a little room. One famous monk, St. Stephanos even had his 

clothes on. That night we camped out within "walking distance" of 

the famous Mt. that our Forefather Moshe Rabainu received the Ten 

(continued) 

- 42-

Commandments. At 3 AM, we ^egan to try and follow in his footsteps, 

but we were allowed less than 1/80 th of his time. This 

was rough after sitting for two days. Most of the group made it up, 

even those fragile females (I believe in miracles). After making it 

down, we were allowed to sit for an hour, rest and recuperate. When 

we got on the bus, we nearly had a civil war as to who would get the 

peanut butter, who would get the jelly, Yes after three days in 

the desert I can see William Golding's point (Lord of the Flies, you 

dummies). At 2 PM, we got to Dahaf, a really nice beach where we got 

to swim and snorkel. My group got to cook and I'd rate it as at 

least a 2 Rolaid meal if not a 3. 

Wednesday Despite the preceding factor, everyone seemed to 

make it up at 5:30. To our journey to the tip of the Sinai, Ras 

Muhammed, it was truly beautiful. Tiptoeing to the edge of the coral 

reef, we were able to observe nature undisturbed by man. Unfortunately 

vice-versa cannot be said as one girl was ferociously attacked by a 

sea urchin when she stepped on its house. Other slipped to similar' 

fates. The Medic saw this and mysteriously disappeared. Today the 

bread so inspired by the the blue of the sea, the blue of the sky, 

likewise turned blue. As we decided against eating such a pretty 

color. Our artistic abilities nourished as we made holes embellished 

with choomose, vegetable spread. We camped at a place near Sharm El 

Sheikh. I really should not close without mentioning our toilet 

facilities, usual little sheds about 2ft. by 4ft. with a cement floor 

with a six inch slit. To say the least those with good aim had to 

suffer from those with bad, and those with bad aim also suffered from 

themselves. I know I was one of the. We became expert in discovering 

which rocks were best for our purposes and some learned the 

the hard way which way the hill should slant. 

Thursday We went to the Straits of Tiran to discuss military 

strategy past and present. 

Next we arrive at Shartra Pass to look 

at the Israeli love for monument building. 

A car went off the allotted 

(continued)

oad onto a mine and blew up. 

Thank G-d Moses didn't have to worry 

about those things. 

We took to the Fjord, the Coral Islands (10 minutes 

each) and camped just out of Eilat. 

Friday The next day we were off by 6:30 to that other hangout 

Mt. Scopus. The girls came back 10 lbs. heavier from the constant 

barrage of bread, choomose and chocolate spread. Hairier really 

smelly. The boys came back skinnier hairier , smellier, yet despite 

the fact that the girls needed a shower, a shave more than a bite to 

eat, the corner SuperSol hadn't had this much business in over a week. 

JANET WEINBERG 

OVERHEARD: "I don't think Moses was that great. Had he taken a 

left turn instead of a right, we would have had the oil fields, and 

they would have had the desert!" 

- 44-

45-

Returned from the Sinai earlier this afternoon. 

A burned image of 

colored mountains and an intense blue sky. All the time I was itching to 

write, the book was in the pocket of my knapsack. In the washroom (the 

only warm place in Jerusalem) we're all Doris Lessing's armed with notebooks 

of various shapes, colors, scribblings, etc. 

On the tiyul I kept seeing surrepticious writers bent over their 

private domains. 

Ah the Sinai...I had had visions of white dunes shimmering between 

eyelids burning in the salty pools of sweat. I ‘never expected an array 

of mountains, more substantial than sunken white sand. Mountains in 

red and green and the multi-personalities of the color grey. Rocks spilled 

everywhere along the coarse sand. A scraggily type of tree occasionally 

seen, its sparse leaves bent over on grey thin limbs its roots clutching 

for support. The first night in an oil town in the beginning of the 

Sinai. A few eliptical bodies drinking up the oil we were told lies 

underneath. Before we stopped at the 'town', our bus stopped on the 

road, the sides of which were littered with tanks, some live grenades 

and mines and pieces of rusted artillary. Only the bodies had been cleared 

away. We stepped among the tombstones and I tried to listen to the sound 

of the dying. But only the laughter of a college group and the madrichs 

heavy voice explaining, putting meaning into why the desert had been 

decorated with barbed wire, tanks and shells. He explained the battle 

campaigns of '56 and '48. The Sinai is shaped like a funnel. In '56, 

"our" troops moved from both sides of the mouth of the funnel, destroying 

everything on the march inward\ later in '68 the object was only to 

drive back the enemy.* They were allowed to reach the Suez with their 

lives, only to be shot by their fellow soldiers on the Jordanian border. 

Better dead men than live mouths spreading the story of defeat. Miles and 

miles of a testament of death. We can't see the blood anymore, but G-d 

forbid if we forget. 

*1 don't claim historical accuracy. 

(continued) 

- 46-

The oil town lay snuggled between barbed wire. None of the 

beautiful mountains livened the landscape. There only dull brown sand and 

a sun that shuts itself off at night leaving only the wind and the cold. 

The seven buses were divided into two groups of caravans. In turn, 

each caravan was divided into buses and further sub-divided into groups. 

This, in effort to provide 'intimacy.' 

The next morning, awake, before the sun, warmed only by the anticipation 

of its heat. We walked through a canyon along the route taken 

by pilgrims on Holy Missions into the Sinai. The Crusaders marched 

through these paths, a species of people (whose name I can't remember) 

carved hieroglifics into the rocks. Crude representations of hunters 

and lions. Relics of antiquity asleep in the desert. The same silence 

that embraced the remnants of tanks the day before. From spears 

aimed at lions to bazookas aimed at men. Each leave behind a monument. 

The sun sucked at my body, not even giving it the luxury to exude 

sweat. A chimerical silence, an inexorable sun and a caravan of 

students on their way to the holy mountain without a thought anywhere 

verging on religious. Two Bedouins popped out from nowhere and watched 

us with the same reserved curiosity with which we watched them. An 

ugly race of people, physically. Hair without the wiriness of the 

Negro and without the smooth dark texture of the Arab. Dulled pointed 

matted twisted hairs. None of the Negroid nobility. Wide squashed 

nostrils, open-mouthed and blank-eyed. Filthy. One of the men sat 

cross-legged in the shade of the bus. So, when we left, we gave him 

a loaf of bread. He carried the stack of bread away back into the sun. 

Gila Arfer 

How can you survive without eggs? 

in a yolkless society 

- 47-

- 48-

How f a r is a \ 2 J S ? 

Q O 

n g ; 

11 " w o o o 

e (nxn)e*y;ny7t d x d y d z ,

PIECES OF ISRAEL (and me) 

Empty in its winter sun. Netanya. Ran along the coast splashing, kicking 

the water out of place, ran until I was choked with lack of oxygen. Swam 

until my arms ached. Threw off my bathing suit and laughed at how warm 

a winter sun could feel. Felt pure and sunwarmed and suncrazy. 

In the early evening after w e ’d eaten a delicious meal and slept under 

heavy winter quilts, we reluctantly awoke and dressed in the ritual of 

Saturday night. The four of us went to a discoteque and it was the flow 

of ritual. The rites of the young. The freckled face brother applied 

himself to his flow, and the parents to theirs of bridge games and malt 

beerahs and ours to ours. 

- 50- 

Gila Arfer

Before I came . . . 

people would ask me why I wanted to leave America? 

And I would respond— 

that I wasn't leaving America, 

I was going t£ Israel— 

Now I ask myself . . . 

Why am I leaving Israel? 

- 52-

A TRIP TO BAQUA 

One lousy rainy day in the middle of December, I and two others decided 

to make a spontaneous visit to an Arab village. Actually the visit was to 

fulfill a requirement of the course "Transformation in the Arab Village." 

We had no exact plans as to what we would actually do once we reached the viililiage 

but we figured things would work themselves out. Our first problem was 

locating the Arab village. We reached the city of Hadera and learned that not 

too far away was the village of Baqua. The bus driver let out a puzzled look 

when we asked him to inform us when we reach the mercaz of Baqua. The bus 

driver could not understand what three nice university students would want 

with an Arab village, especially on such a rainy miserable day. Finally we 

reached the village, after a total of four hours travelling time. We got off 

the bus and we were confused as to what move should be taken next. Since it 

was raining we gathered under one umbrella we luckily brought. We looked 

around and saw a few shops but the streets seemed to be deserted. We ventured 

into one of the more inviting shops and started talking to some men and boys. 

After explaining who wer were and the reason behind our coming they seemed 

friendly and anxiously answered our questions. They understood Hebrew so we 

were able to converse with few difficulties. One young boy spoke to us in 

English. (He learns Arabic, Hebrew and English in school.) A little later we 

were introduced to a man who invited us for coffee and gave us an hour of his 

time to describe to us life in the village. He was much obliging in answering 

all our intruding questions about the village and even his personal life! 

The man seemed very happy and proud to speak about his village and its 

successful life style. Today, many facilities and opporunities are opened to 

the villagers that were never expected before. Forinstance, many have been given 

the opportunity to study in the various universities. The level of education is 

high. Within the village there is good health services and even a Histadrut 

moadon where everyone gathers to take part in various activites. WE were invited 

to see it. The man explained to us how greatly they've benefitted from the 

Israeli government- and they are quite grateful for the progress that has evolved. 

It was emphasized how happy everyone was and the one missing element was peace 

within the Middle East. 

This interview deeply impressed me. All the fears that I had before talking 

to him disappeared. He was sincere and extremely proud to reveal to us about 

life in the village. 

This visit convinced me that the possibility of Arabs 

living contently with Israeli Jews is not as remote as I had thought. 

- 53- 

Mar go Meissner

You say thirty 

lirot? Thirtyfive 

is my 

price, but I'll 

give it to YOU 

for thirty and 

a kiss. 

■54

- 55-

Parental advice before the "BIG TRIP" 

- try not to gain weight 

- remember to write home often 

- Be Careful! 

- please, don't forget to come home 

- don't get married. 

- WATCH OUT FOR ISRAELI GUYS] 

-^6

-The woman dying of heat while wearing her mink coat at the Kotel 

in mid-July. 

-He's the one standing next to the smiling Arab in the shuk. 

-She's the one telling Harry to shoot an Arab (a picture of). 

-The guy who WAITS in line 

-look at yourself in the mirror 

-He's the one that asks for ketchup 

- 57-

HITCHING UP NORTH 

Hitching has been getting harder in Israel. 

Even an American girl 

and an Israeli soldier hitching together sometimes have a difficult 

time getting a ride. 

We— my soldier friend and I— must have waited at least an hour by 

the road to Safed before we got even an offer of a ride. We had to 

turn it down, because the driver of the car would only take one of us.... 

ME! Considering that he could have easily fit three or four people in 

his car, I decided that his behavior was too suspicious, told him 

politely to go to hell, and waited for another ride. 

It was getting close to evening. 

WE were beginning to wonder why 

no one else would stop for us-- a pretty American girl and a handsome 

Israeli soldier. 

We were so desperate for a ride, we would even have paid 

for a ride on an Egged bus, but nontwere in sight. 

AT last, an Israeli army truck stopped for us! Before the driver 

could say "I'm not allowed to give rides to civilians", my friend and I 

had jumped onto the back of the truck. Unfortunately, I had no previous 

opportunity to practice the difficult art of jumping into an Israeli 

army truck, so as I got in back, I crash-landed onto a pile of equipment 

. 

We were barely on the truck when it began tearing around the 

winding, curvy, poorly-paved mountain road at 130 miles per hour. 

I recited the "Shemah", held my breath, closed my eyes, and waited to 

roll off the road and down the mountain. When none of the above 

happened, I thanked G-d, relaxed, and decided to practice my Hebrew on 

the two soldiers (besides by friend) who were sitting in the back of the 

truck with us, eating oranges and wondering what my friend and I were 

doing, hitching to Safed in this truck. 

The bouncing to Safed had given me a bad headache, though. So the 

first Hebrew words that came out of my mouth were: 

?u7Ki—nto V’awa inwD o dV dkh .hid nc’n o ’3K 

(continued) 

- 58-

No, they did not have any aspirin with them. But they did have 

lots of candy— --specially packaged for the Israeli army. They told 

me to keep the whole package, which contained enough candy for 6 

normal Israeli first-graders. Before I could open the package of candy, 

the two soldiers were handing cans of combat rations to my friend. 

It was no use trying to convince them that we really didn*t mind living 

off falafel and chips while we were travelling, and that therefore, 

we didn't need the combat rations. 

They insisted upon giving us enough 

good canned food for both of us to feast on and have enough left over 

to invite some fellow travellers to dine with us. 

My friend and I had a fantastic free meal that night. Israeli 

army combat rations can taste very good. Just add tomato sauce, heat 

and stir. 

The next morning, we hitched out of Safed. On the road, we stopped at 

Shekem, to eat breakfast. Who should we meet at the Shekem? Our two 

benefactors! Too bad that they were not going our way that morning. 

The candy was almost gone by then. 

PEARL BORGER 

How can you survive without eggs? 

Import frozen pizzas. 

Eat chickens— we don’t know which came first anyway. 

- 59-

i V e B R o o & U T ^ 

t yei 0 6 w 

F O R - 7 W 6 

A 6 o t > d o # o ^ 

c o H & t i e S 

R 0 0 efi6 SS w it h 

f 

MJb 

& c t t 

A 

e & u e s s 

£>/6po s.rr/oO 

0 9 9 

---------------- ^ 

H(r /s A 

* 5 f * F T : D A w b 

l , t n / l t i & - t ) £ i T Y ! ! 

C > / < 7 t * 3 A U ^ o 

- 60-

61

Win at time is it when 

-62-

*r ^

us. This form of entertainment , though not as regular as the "Tonight 

Show" is also not as expensive as the Broadway play and provides many 

of the same thrills as the suspense-filled serial. 

Coming back to the dorm one evening after seeing a movie in town that 

proved to be disappointing, I found that I was not to be disappointed 

in the after theater entertainment. Having been in Jerusalem for three 

months, the action of extending the ticket to be punched had become 

automatic, as had the automatic plopping down in the nearesTseat in 

preparation for the sudden jerk of the bus. My three months stay had 

also taught me well to ignore the events toward the front of the bus, 

in order to save myself from early death, of heart failure at the sight 

of unwary pedestrians narrowly escaping with their lives intact, at 

the price of sacrificing their grocery packages under the wheels of 

the bus. The speech of the bus driver, however, attracted me, for I 

was developing the impression that Israeli bus drivers were regressing 

to a lower verbal level of development, limited to grunts, and I 

was amazed to hear the sound of Hebrew vowels and consonants issued 

from his mouth. His words were short and restricted to mono and 

poly-syllables such as 

/ d b ’n and ^ uttered in a questioning 

tone and addressed to two men in the front seat, 

-64- 

(continued)

The bus driver, it seemed, did not know the route and was getting 

minute by minute instructions from the two guys in the front seat. 

felt the scene was too precious to be the object of my enjoyment alone. 

Why not transfer some of the thrills of the U.S. 

Israeli screen, with a few variations of course. It 

T.V. screen to the 

could be called 

"For Love of Egged" and at the conclusion of each segment of the show 

exciting and suspenseful 

questions could be asked in an ominous tone-- 

"If Naomi gets on the bus, will the driver know the route? 

knows the route, will he stop at the right bus stop? Afid why 

If he 

doesn't he know the route?" The last question was the one I (not being 

able to contain my curiosity until the next exciting episode) asked 

the girl sitting next to me. 

The responsibility of guiding the bus 

had been transferred to her when the two guys who had previously had 

this function got off and she got on. 

She explained that the driver 

was new and inexperienced and had just been chosen arbitrarily to drive 

this route, without any previous instruction as to what 

I 

the route was. 

Fearing I was to be next in line to hold the title of Chief Advisor 

to RMN (Really Mixed-up Nahag), I wished the driver luck and alighted 

from the bus at the earliest opportunity. 

Perhaps this driver is still navigating the narrow streets of 

Jerusalem, searching for a passenger who will show him the way. 

Sometimes, sitting on a bus and entranced by the memories aroused by the 

wild turns and short stops that are so reminiscent of those roller 

coaster rides in the States, I will peer toward the froftt of the bus 

and try to decipher if it is he, 

But, after all, it is impossible 

to tell from the style of driving, for all Egged bus drivers seem to have 

some of the qualities of the RMN in them, 

driving a vehicle of state? 

I wonder if they'd do better 

MARCIA KATZ 

How many feet of meters are in a 

It depends

A ride on the Egged bus reminds me of: 

-a year's workout at Jack LaLanne's Health Spa 

-being kidnapped by Russian cosmonauts right before re-entry 

-a roller coaster (you know the sadist ride givers) 

-New York subways doing the "Indianapolis 500" 

-sitting in a clothes dryer 

Waiting for the "28" is like: 

-waiting for "GODOT" 

-Herzl waiting for the Kaiser to grant him an audience, 

-hoping for snow in July (in Israel) 

-being the hero in a Kafka novel 

-waiting for the Messiah 

(but the Messiah WILL come!) 

-66-

A garush can be used to: 

-annoy bus drivers 

-fill piggy banks 

-anty a poker game 

-make ridged marks in dough 

-mark golf balls 

-open transistor radios and stereo cassett systems. 

WHAT'S in a falafel? 

a lot of imagination 

What's IN a falafel? 

LOVE 

What's in A falafel? 

a lot of calories 

What's in a FALAFEL? 

the ingredients that never made it in 

chicken soup. 

-67-

Take a whiff . . . chocolate cake. Take another . . . 

egg-plant parmegean. Try once more. . . apple cobbler. But there 

aren't any ovens in the dorms— mah pitom? Nothing's pitoming— 

it's only the ol' Wonderpot. Filled with raw ingredients from a 

favorite recipe and placed on a lit gas burner, it's only a short 

wait until the aroma is just right, and voila— baked goods without 

an oven! 

And I bet that you didn't think Israel was capable of such 

holey (sic!) miracles! 

-68-

Gimme Shelter! 

No, this isn't the sing along section of the RED TAPE, but a 

section to take up space and remind you of the space you once 

took up during you year in Jerusalem. 

Dormitory life at H.U. took on a different tone than many 

of us had experienced in universities back home. Language created 

a barrier for everyone. Whether trying to get posters translated 

or attempting to tell the Arabic speaking maid that you don't 

want her in your room barefoot because you broke a wine bottle 

the night before! Language was a problem, but many were resolved 

to overcome it. Determination, hard study and an oath on your 

first born child that you would talk only Hebrew to your Israeli 

roommate. Trouble was, you could never understand his English, 

let alone his Hebrew because of his New York accent! 

Troubles certainly didn't end here. For many males, it was 

a mad scramble to obtain dormitory housing. Having a guarantee 

on housing didn't guarantee your room was liviable! Compared to 

the relative luxury and convenience of Resnick, many were destined 

to spend their time in the notorious Shikun HaElef. These particular 

dorms have a reputation rivaled only by Devils Island. 

Two beds, a desk, a closet and two feet of walking space was all 

the place had to offer. 

Most of us won't soon forget the other problems encountered 

during the year. The 2:00 a.m. registration stands out the most 

in my memories. After a day of orientation in New York, a sleepless 

flight, a three hour wait at Lod, an introduction to Egged 

and then an hour long wait to fill-in triplicate dormitory admission 

sheets— that's "chutzpah". 

The problems of today provides for the humor of tomorrow. 

The lasting feelings are the new relationships made in the course 

of a short year. Whether with your roomate, an Israeli soldier or 

the American down the hall, these new friends made It all worthwhile. 

Izzy Sonenreich 

“69“

Hebrew University students are still pondering the real meaning of all local 

documents bearing the legend OYSP. All you dazzled and perplexed OYSP'ers 

have no fear for we have uncovered possibilities for the initials OYSP.... 

One Year SIumber Party 

Offer Your Sarcasm Please 

Obscene Yeshiva Students Performing 

Olives Yids Sandals (Nimrod) Pita (Falafel) 

Obvious Yiddisha Spoiled Patriots 

Observe Your Shabbas Properly 

Occasional Yawning Serves Purposes 

Old Yogurt Smells Pathetic 

Obese Young Soccer Players 

Often You Send Packages 

Ordinary Yells Strengthen Protectia 

One Year Singer Protection 

OK, You're Special People 

Rena Ben Zvi 

DID SHE, OR DIDN'T SHE? 

(EVEN THE MAID DOESN'T KNOW FOR SURE) 

-70-

•71

STUDENTS' REACTIONS TO O.Y.S.P. COURSES AND FACULTY 

No student in the O.Y.S.P. will deny that this year has 

been a special one. 

However, the aspects that have made it special 

are not declared unanimously. 

According to the title of 

the program, one would expect one of those aspects to be academic. 

While many students have found the classes excellent, others have 

been disappointed. 

An evaluation questionnaire on the Summer 

Ulpan and the Fall Term (on which most of this article is based) 

was circulated. 

It included the following instructions: 

Grade on a scale of 1-5 your total experience at 

the Hebrew University (l=the highest). 

Of thirty-eight replies, the following data was obtained: 

teachers. 

1............................. 16% 

2 ............................. 26% 

3 .............................. 30% 

4 .............................. 20% 

5 ................................ 8% 

There is no question that there were many outstanding 

In day-to-day conversation, professors such as Ben- 

Tor, Chazan, Gafni, Greenberg, Harkabi, Hartman, Herman, Ms. Lie- 

bowitz, Levine, Paul, and Werblowsky are often mentioned by my 

friends alone. 

Nevertheless, complaints have been registered 

concerning lack of interest in the students, condescencion, and 

laziness on the part of some professors. 

It was also suggested 

that when lecturers cannot be present, a substitute be sent. 

As far as course selection, comments ranged from good to 

lousy, from courses being too general to too specific. 

It was 

noted that there are many time conflicts, and many large classes, 

both of which could be solved by offering more sections of the 

more popular courses. 

Suggestions on program format included 

spreading classrooms rather than concentrating them in Goldsmith, 

offering more full year courses, teaching more courses in Hebrew, 

systematically scheduling courses (e.g., all courses meeting on 

Sunday-Tuesday or Monday-Wednesday or Tuesday-Thursday). 

One 

-72- 

(continued)

student suggested that all courses be year-long, three-hour 

seminars. Some of the courses that students would have liked 

to have had offered are: General introductory courses in 

Judaism, including branches of modern Judaism; Jewish art and 

music; Jewish reactions to the Enlightenment; additional Bible 

courses, e.g. Humash according to the weekly portions, survey 

of the prophets, Song of Songs; more Hebrew literature in English 

(especially fall term) and Hebrew; history of anti-semitism; 

Karaites, Samaritans, etc.; a full program of Israeli economics, 

government, and foreign policy; Israeli botany and zoology; 

additional courses in Islamic civilization; Early Christianity; 

and generally more upper level courses outside the area of 

Jewish studies. 

In my opinion, many of the suggestions to improve the 

format as a whole neglect one factor— the uniqueness of the 

faculty. Additional sections of most courses could only be 

offered if the same professor were willing to give the same 

lecture twice. Also, systematically scheduling classes would 

require lecturers to make their schedules fit the O.Y.S.P. 

rather than fit O.Y.S.P. into their schedules. I believe both 

are too much to ask from men whose primary concern is the regular 

university and their own research. Needless to say there 

are many first rate researchers on the O.Y.S.P. faculty who 

very concerned about their O.Y.S.P. students, but at no 

university is the phenomenon universal. Nevertheless, these and 

other suggestions are relevant and merit consideration. 

JUDITH BORSUK 

Our most favorite lines from Israeli guys: 

-"Let me tell you your fortune: 

into your life.'" 

a new man 

is about to come 

-"Hey you! — Vant to go to dis-ko-tek?" 

—"I've seen you in a dream...." 

-"I don't want to touch; 

I just want to sit very close to you 

-75-

74-

My summer ulpan was: 

a dream which I realized only after regular 

75

Conceptions off 

Hartman 

t h s Mool( lern 

OYSP Experience 

-77-

-78-

"Y. Drawer?" 

That is the question we've been asking ourselves ever since 

we entered the class--why DRAWER???? 

Zhe Doctor is internationally recognized for his smiles. An 

all-around guy, Yehezzie participated in zhe Olympics of '36; but 

he resigned because zhey were wrong. He was immediately flown to 

Wenezuela and was appointed high pressure planner; but he never 

showed up due to illness. He zhen came to Israel and participated 

in zhe One-Year Program, teaching an in-deps study on Contemporary 

Israel: Politics, Society, Economics, Security, Religion, Entertainment, 

Education, Morality, Mobility, Anthropology . . . and their 

influences. Y. also spent several lectures on Bottle-Rolling in 

Cinemas. According to him, "Yigal Allon." 

Usually students complain that they could have learned much 

more had they attended more lectures; in Contempory Israel, on the 

other hand, most students usually complain that they would have 

learned much more had the Professor attended more lectures. Irbnically, 

one of the few times the Prof did show up he became angered 

by the class' tardiness (9:47 for a 9:45 class) and summarily dismissed 

those already present. 

This article, unfortunately, must end now due to the writer's 

military reserve service. 

Love, 

Herald Post 

____ _______________ 

OFFICE FOR OVERSEAS STUDENTS 

ANNOUNCEMENT OF CLASS CANCELLATION 

P.S. 

We will meet in room 304 on March 32nd 

CourseCQnte-y^pOfCj X s v 3 e . \ 

Taught by V. rirdbUdeX* 

will not meet C-N/C.r"" 

t o - L W e praSessor's 

a b s e n c e 

Date K c u r 5 2 ^ - 

-79-

chemech 

finals, 

something utterly different than the Last Judgement, 

papers, ah, the Israelis finally (oh that wordI) knew what they were 

talking about when they called them avodot. work exactly, not works 

of art, mind you, but certainly there’s been some energy exchanged 

along the way. 

remember the summer when we could get up very very early in the 

morning to watch the sun rise? ah gorgeous untouched all-alive skies, 

it was always so nice— until the first egged speedily broke its way 

through your dreams, oh, there were also those nights we would play 

owls and stay up silently hooting acknowledgement of our freedom to 

each other, we'd check out the sun, mumble a word of thanks to the Big 

One for doing it again (but were we ever afraid He'd forget?), and crawl 

into bed. oh but now it's a lonely long night i spend trying not to be 

desperate about the work i should have handed in a month ago. then all 

of a sudden, right in the middle of Herzl's call on the Kaiser, you (i 

do too) hear the minneret calling out in that amazing P.A. system that 

they would have loved back in grammar (elementary) school whatever kind 

of prayer of the not-so-distant, lit day. prayer, ah, this is the city 

it all goes around, it all twirls around this place, like the golden 

ring of the merry-go-round that lets you get another turn free, the ring 

that is. if you catch it. oh, but that ring is outside the horses and 

such, ah, but since when is the golden city ten minutes from downtown 

burbank? analogy saved again. 

saved again, well here we are. and there they are and they are and they a 

hmmmmm. prayer, you never know what's going to happen next around here, 

who says life in israel is boring and monotonous and dull and pretty much 

an uncultured blah? (well i was kidding, you know?) i mean, you (i) never 

know when the next bomb is going to go off in supersol or when the next 

tv camera is going to film you into the being and nothingness of mr. & ms. 

everyone's living (hopefully) room. 

(continued) 

- 80-

oh. so i'm sitting here writing about the establishment of b'nei akiva 

and the sun is about to come up on another day. oh; did it again, 

and you know something, i don't mind so much. 

and something else, i've never been afraid He wouldn't do it again. 

Whorl" time. 

it whe.n 

Isn't it strange 

that WE are all HERE 

and THERE 

we are not WE? 

- b l -

THE TEN MOST IMPORTANT ITEMS YOU WISHED YOU HAD PACKED: 

minute steaks 

oven 

bed 

4) 

library 

5) 

inflatable 707 

6) 

coffee 

7) stereo 

8) aluminum foil 

laiummum foi 

m 

9) M&M's 

10) ten bottles of Heinz ketchup 

In addition: 10 one hundred dollar bills $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ 

-82-

The first thing I'll do when I'm back home: 

-tell my folks I'll return to Israel at the first mention 

taking out the garbage. 

-eat a thick juicy steak 

-use the telephone 

-see a baseball game 

-take a bath, it's been a long time 

-re-learn English 

-probably cry 

-cash in my Israeli bonds 

-be a tourist in my own city 

— go to the bathroom. 

of 

W 0 W & 0 0 K ] 

f o k 

K N & U S 4 

UIPAN 

-&3-

off the heap 

The year in Israel is only now more than half-way completed. 

Yet, I can already see much about myself. 

I have come to appreciate 

my friends more than I have ever done before. 

each new problem I feel more self-confident. 

With the solving of 

I now realize that my 

discontent with America and the American way of education was a 

projection of self-discontent. 

I left my old school because I believed 

it did not offer enough in the way of an education. 

Hindsight 

makes it clear to me that the resources were there, but my 

ability to tap them was, as yet, under-developed. I was attracted 

to the Hebrew University because of its name and its size. There 

can be no denying that Givat Ram is one of the best staffed and most 

beautiful campuses in the world. However, its "bigness" and the 

passivity of the majority of its students cannot be easily reconciled. 

Being some 5,600 miles away from home, by its very nature, provides 

some of the impetus for self-knowledge. Problems constantly arise. 

And with each new problem you must, when it comes right down to it, 

depend on yourself for a solution. Calling home once a week becomes 

a luxury reserved for the very affluent. To receive an answer to a 

question by mail is a two-week procedure. The amount of freedom is 

limitless. Yet, the amount of responsibility is awesome. I .am, for 

all intents and purposes, only accountable to myself. 

I tend to view my stay at the University as a game with high 

stakes. The object of the game is to squeeze the most that I can out 

of this experience: Learn what I am here, and to study and__meet the 

great people that are sharing this experience with me. The challenges 

which confront me take the forms of academic, social, physical and 

emotional tests, rather than squares on a multi-colored board. Being 

left to my own devices to such a large extent adds excitement to the 

game. On the journey I have to recognize my successes and move forward 

whilst accepting my failures and being willing to suffer the 

penalties. So far on my uncompleted journey I have seen that the 

-C4-

eason for my discontent was my own purblindness and, above all, I 

truly value many of the aspects of the American lifestyle I was quick 

to reject. With each new situation I see a little deeper into the 

mysteries within myself. I suppose the game can bevery rewarding. 

Yes, there is the myriad of red tape, the all-encompassing protectzia 

and the cold water in the shikun. However, there is so much 

more. There is a different system of education— to either accept or 

reject. There is the limitless freedom to enjoy and the awesome responsibility 

to balance it out. There is Eretz Yisrael, Jerusalem and 

the Old City. Above all, there are the people. A roommate from the 

Orient. A WHO freak from Brooklyn. A guy from Russia who is always 

borrowing gaforim. A roommate from the summer who has found Judaism. 

A medical student from the Sudan who is the life of every party. There 

are the girls who always manage to spark enjoyment and introspection. 

There are the,profs who seem to lecture endlessly and the maids who 

never fail to wake me up on the mornings when I don't have classes. 

I do not advocate the "Milk and Honey" viewpoint towards Israel and the 

University— I would be guilty of purblindness if I did. However, if 

you choose only to reflect upon the many ills that have confronted 

us all and insist on overlooking the total experience of being a student 

here, you have missed out on so much. If you view the year as a multifaceted 

game and yourself as a player among many, I contend you might 

get more out of the experience than you had first imagined. 

Although the game is only half-way completed, I have scored enough 

in terms of personal insight to declare myself a winner. 

mark margolin 

OVERHEARD: 

"Israel took a step in the right direction when she required 

that all motorcyclists wear helmets. 

However, we'd all be safer if 

she'd now make a law that would keep motor vehicles off the sidewalks . . ." 

-35-

Yes, 

it's true: 

that Israelis push and shove 

that SERVICE is non-existant 

that people rarely smile or 

extend friendly gestures 

But, 

if I could not laugh . . . 

would I still be able to see: 

how minute my everyday crises really are? 

how being patient allows me to experience 

real anxiousness? 

how to enjoy every second of being 

young, 

here, 

and 

healthy? 

it's no joke. 

nina melnick 

■86

You know, I really have a problem— 

— What's up? 

I don't know whether to go to Bulgaria 

or stay in Eretz over break. 

— that's really a problem. 

I think I'll go to Tel Aviv over Shabbat— 

— Why? 

Well, there's nothing to do in Jerusalem. 

— Oh. 

-87-

A HOUSE ON REHOV NISSANBAUM 

(sung to the tune of "The House of the Rising Sun") 

There is a house in Jerusalem 

On a street called Nissanbaum 

And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy 

And Lord, I know I'm one. 

The cook, he has no mercy 

Despite how much I scream 

For all he cooks in the middle of the week 

Is chips and hatzilim. 

My roommate has a phobia 

Peace and quiet is his will 

Though he shuts the door and puts cotton in his ears 

He can hear me singing still. 

The Italian has a problem 

Phisohex will save his face 

But he keeps me waiting at the bathroom door 

And all I can do is pace. 

The refrigerator has no handle 

The paint has peeled off the door 

There's water on the floor from a hole in the roof 

In general, it's a great eye sore. 

All week the place stays messy 

There's havoc throughout the rooms 

The dirt's not even swept under the rug 

Because no one will lift a broom. 

But Friday is the judgement day 

I'm trapped and I can't get free 

I attack those floors with some stuff called Ritzpaz 

Down on my hands and knees. 

I also help with the cooking 

Stuffing is my specialty 

As I squeeze and crush that horrible looking stuff 

I've experienced true sensuality. 

Oy, Shabbos should be a pleasure 

But they've invited the whole O.Y.S.P. 

With people lined up the length of two rooms 

I feel that I can barely breathe. 

Gloria, tell your children 

Not to do what I have done 

To live your life in bitter misery 

In a house on Rehov Nissanbaum. 

-38- 

Marvin Richardson

- 89-

CHANUKAH AT REHOV RAMBAN 

All the food was arranged. The D’jyn were strategically placed 

around the apartment. The pans were standing in preparation for the oncoming 

of 300 latkes. From the living room, Carole King was serenading us, trying 

to calm us for the coming event. The four of us at 40 Rehov Ramban were 

now prepared for the flow of a "few" intimate friends to our Chanukah party. 

Actually, the few turned into over one hundred kids as the night rolled 

on. They came in from every possible entrance. Ten came through one 

balcony -- twenty through another----ten through the front door. It was 

endless. Very soon, a traffic cog was developping in the hallway--- the 

strangest sight seeing eighty kids jammed into such a small spot! What 

to do? Become a traffic cop, of course! I began directing traffic into 

the living room to get some order there. A good friend, Buddy Greene, 

began a marathon guitar concert as we all finally got settled for a night 

of good music and small talk. The lights were low--- the latkes with 

apple-sauce and all kinds of nuts were being passed from hand to hand--- 

and, of course, the occasional occurrenceof kids climbing over each other 

in order to get anywhere. 

I still really do not know how 300 latkes were ever cooked! I 

think that this was the first time on record the hosts of a party were 

able to sit through a party and actually enjoy it! We were fortunate 

to have so many wonderful people trying their hands in the culinery 

field that there was no time or no room for the hosts to do anything--- 

but enjoy the party! 

The food was good--- the company was even better (even though we 

probably didn't get to see half the people who had come)--- and the 

promise at the end was for an even better party. That remains to be seen! 

DAVID THALER

p*!1111hi 1i'nnm 

JUST ASK US: 

How many people should you ask for correct directions? 

None, guess on your own. 

What would cause a lack of eggs in Jerusalem? 

A strike: 

chickens? 

everyone else does, why shouldn't the 

How many feet or meters are there in a ->uP 2 

Meters don't have feet. 

The Jerusalem Post reminds me most of: 

A daily MAD MAGAZINE. 

My most favorite pasttime while waiting for the bus: 

Counting out forty agarot. 

Writing term papers. 

'Emma Slotsky, Emma Slotsky, How does your garden grow? 

Question of the OYSP to whomever might know: 

Who was EMMA SLOTSKY??!! 

OVERHEARD IN GOLDSMITH BUILDING, ROOM 012: 

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhl 

-91-

No, it wasn't Purim, it was October 31st, Halloween. We were walking 

through the streets headed towards a Halloween party in the heart of Ramat 

Eshkol. We arroused the most puzzled and confused looks from the Israelis 

who failed to see the significance of the day. Our dressing apparel was 

typical for 10 year olds wandering the streets on Halloween in the states 

or maybe Purim in Israel. Noone could understand what university students 

were doing dressed up as we were. The party itself was a smashing success. 

The turnout was overwhelming; neither was there room to sit or dance, one 

simply stood and shook with the very rhythmatic American music. The costumes 

varied from animals to vegetables, everyone adding a touch of originalitly 

and imagination. The noise and excitement attracted all the 

neighbors in the building and all the children wanted to come and join the 

fun. The highlight of the party was the contest for the best costume where 

everyone had to give a little demonstration of their theme. Afterwards 

many joined in successfully for apple dunking. Unfortunately, the hands of 

the clock approached twelve o'clock, and the evil of Egged was about to 

strike, those depending upon Egged had to head to the station for the last 

bus. But the fun was not yet over. Twenty weird students entered one Egged 

bus headed towards Mt. Scopus, with the rhythm of the music still in their 

ears, all of whom were dressed in costumes. Just imagine the looks that we 

received from the driver and passengers! 

-92

P U R I M « O C T O B E R 

-93-

YAD VASHEM; DEDICATED TO THE 6 MILLION WHO DIED--- 

FOR US TO REMEMBER 

"NOW AND FOREVER!" 

94

t i t a n ' u / ' r b i t f 

J m t b ' A i ) " t u b S 

. t r ' S m ^ 

J i i l r i a i D ' h a i a ^ b 

J i ' i J i n b n ' b n i l 

' n s a t r ' 5 " r ' 

„ ' U K s v s * 

r t S s v n n ^ > u i 3 5 

' M F ’nl 

To the nolu ones o? ‘the Lord 

To the rekek o? the qhettos 

lo the^httTi in thetorefit 

lo the febeb ($ th e comps 

lo the TlCjViWs 0? the Underground 

lo the Soldiers in the armies 

lo the SCLvioors o¥ oor Wethers 

kthe dcurfers t the>A\eqo-\ inmyfatiw 

Beros strength 4-xfeheiUon 

T o 

E tfc fc N V T V 

-95-

-96“

-97-

-98-

THE 1972-73 STUDENTS OF THE ONE YEAR PROGRAM LEAVE THE 

STUDENTS OF 1973-74 THEIR S.S. (SECRETS OF SURVIVAL). 

Save your nivV ’sn and early hours of the morning— three 

in the morning (3 a.m.) will be just fine— for your week-day 

wash. 

Be sure and avoid 

on Thursdays. 

pre-Shabbat stampedes at Hamashbir— shop 

--- Bus waiting... Forget what mother taught you, cut in line 

. . . if not first, you won't succeed. 

---So you planned on sleeping late today I Remember! Monday- 

Thursday is maid-day. . . who knows when she'll come? 

---Goldsmith, here I come (you won't be going anywhere else). 

Get there early before the afternoon-mob forms. 

-- Getting a package really isn't such a treat. Remember that 

Custom's hours are 8am-lpm and the line begins at 7am. 

---Girls, it's not that we look so much better in Israel, 

we're just not used to the Big Eyes (of the Israeli boys). 

---While waiting two hours to take a book out of the National 

Library, remember there's plenty of things you can do at Givat 

Ram— anyway, that's what they told us! 

---Summer Ulpan includes a Free Week at a kibbitz. A warning 

to the wise: Go Prepared— sit-up, back bends, and the likes. 

---When shopping on your favorite streets, Yaffe and Ben Yehuda 

(where else?) if ever distressed remember that the green dollar 

bill makes friends! 

---If ever a problem should arise with any aspect of Hebrew 

University and you're not quite sure where to go . . . don't! 

There may be hours, days, weeks or even months of depression. 

You may feql as if the one year program is just an endurance 

contest in disguise. 

You even may suffer from feelings of 

persecution and are sure you're heading towards insanity . . . 

but remember! IF WE MADE IT, SO CAN YOU. 

as compiled by Phyllis Zurkoff 

OQ— .J

Staff: Pearl Kisner Steve Rosenberg 

Mona Mandel 


Harriet Molod 

Norma Jean Skolnik 


Yale Zusaman 

Nina Melnick 

Illustrators: 

Mark Gross.. 

Harold Kahn 

Dick Krantz 

Ruth Seligman 

Norma Skolnik 


Mona Mandel 

Photographers: 

Darlene Blitt 

Marcia Bloom 

Stuart Cole 

Ahava Friedman 

Marcia Katz 

Nina Melnick 

Harriet Molod 

Josh.Needle 

Joel Reisbcrg 

Izzy Sonenri ich 


Special thanks to: 

Dr. A. Avi-Hai 

Mr. A. Ben-Shachar 

op id n’nnT 

m ’QK 

Mr. A. Singer 

And a very special thanks to Mr. Yaacov Kirschen 

- 100-

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