It was hard to go back to studying, and the next month is going to be very demanding, but I feel confident in my ability to do what I'm supposed to do.

It's been an ordinary, quite boring week. On Monday I got a B- on that horrible Modern Drama exam. It's not my grade of choice, but all considering - it's quite good. I got almost full points for everything I did write, and I know for sure the instructor knows that I know this material well (I even got to finish my last answer orally, when we went through the exam). In any case, it was above average grade.

On Tuesday I had coffee with another of my Creative Writing class's students. Her name is Jennie. She's 20 years old, a sophomore. She lives in an artistic co-ed fraternity. She writes beautifully, and she is a red-head (actually, strawberry blonde) and a lefty, both earning her additional points.

Thursday I got back my response paper about The Wizard of Oz in my American Memory seminar, and I got an H- on it, so I'm happy, especially since this is the base to half my seminar paper.

On Saturday I met my relatives for lunch, and then we finally found the art supply I needed to start painting again (I bought paints a few weeks ago, but the brush I got wasn't really good, and I needed a water-based varnish to complete the look). So I spent Saturday night painting, and I enjoyed myself very much.

Sunday I met with friends of Danielle's aunt who live in Raleigh. They invited me to go out for dinner in a nice cafe on Franklin's Street. The food was unbelievably good and I enjoyed the company very much. They are really nice people. They've invited me for Passover and since my relatives who're living in Durham are not going to be around, I might accept.

And that's about it.

Hamutal

P.S. Since we didn't make it to the final stages of the NCAA, there won't be any more exciting accounts of basketball games.

On Monday and Tuesday a group of Pro-Lifers (meaning, people who are against abortions) erected an exhibition on the lawn just near the Student Union and the Student Store. So far so good, I mean, I totally don't agree with them, but freedom of speech blah blah. But they had the nerve to compare abortions to genocide. They used gruesome images of aborted fetuses (which they claim are authentic, but some people say are heavily tampered with) side by side with images from African-American lynching, massacres in Cambodia and the Holocaust.

So of course, I was outraged even hearing about it, but I felt that I needed to see it before I attacked it. I went with Jennie from my creative writing class, and her friend Simon, a nice and funny British guy, who made T-shirts and signs for the occasion. He also brought along some hangers, telling everybody to buy them before rush time. Jennie and I went to help him hang his signs over the signs of the so-called "Genocide Awareness Project"(that's how they dared name it), and saw that some other people already beat Simon to the idea of the hangers (just for those of you who don't know, before abortions were legal, women often had illegal abortions using hangers, and since it wasn't medical or sanitary, many of them permanently damaged their reproductive system or even died of complications.)

There was a group of Pro-Choicers positioned itself in the Pit (the Student Union Square) and around the exhibition. There were cops there too, but I don't think that anything happened that required their intervention. I even had some civilized discussions with people from both sides (that's what I like about this place. People don't feel they have to shout in order to get their message across.)

Then I came back to the Pit and there was a preacher in the middle of it, holding a bible and speaking very passionately. I asked my friend Rowena (also from my creative writing class, in case you haven't been paying attention) what it was all about, and she said that he comes to each of the local colleges about once a semester and that this time he has a bigger crowd than usual. I asked her if she thought it was because of the exhibition, and she said it could very well be. She also explained to me that the reason this is quite common in the area is that it is what's called "The bible belt" of the South. Rowena herself is quite a devoted Christian and a Pro-Lifer, which I find hard to digest - I must admit - but she's not an extremist, and she definitely doesn't side with the exhibition. Anyway, this preacher was quite entertaining. Not far from him was a Pro-Choice booth and next to it one belonging to the homosexual/lesbian/bisexual/transgenderal group of UNC. The people who listened to it were mostly there for the show. They kept talking about evolution and he said that he didn't believe in fictional tales and that he believed in Genesis. Then he said something about not believing in what he can't see, and I whispered, "Did he see Genesis?" and somebody heard it and asked him that, and he said that no, but he had faith in it, so I asked whether I could have faith in evolution, and he said I could. One point for me.

I kept sitting there, enjoying the sun, the company of Rowena, and "the show" until finally I decided I had to go and do my regular things.

That night, my Drama Noir class gathered in Dr. Kendall's house to watch the movie The Big Sleep on DVD. Dr. Kendall lives quite close to the campus, but I needed a ride to get there anyway, so Liz took me. She often gives me rides on Tuesdays because we finish watching the movies late, and I don't want to walk around campus when it's way after dark.

The next day we had an American Memory class, even though it was a Wednesday, because our instructor couldn't make it on Thursday. It was a very special class because we had a guest - Prof. Brian Wolf, from Yale. He showed us slides of art works. Most of those art works presented African Americans and Native Americans in the past and today, and we discussed them and what we see in them, and what we think the artists tried to convey through them. On the second half of the class, after Prof. Wolf had left, we talked about the two books we were assigned to read for that class, both written by Native Americans in the beginning of the century.

Thursday's creative writing class was also unique, because we had a guest writer named John Edgar Wideman, who's apparently well known around here. He's African American, I guess in his late 40's early 50's and he has a daughter who played in the WNBA. He writes both short stories and novels, some of them highly autobiographical. The 34W class of Marianne Gingher (the director of the creative writing program) joined us for the occasion, and our job was to ask questions. Wideman was very patient, very accessible (Edith and Colleen later speculated that it's because he teaches creative writing at university level, so he's used to interacting with students.) I liked what he had to say about writing, and discipline and passion. I even asked a question (regarding discipline and what one can do when the Muses are being cruel to him/her), and adopted one of his suggestions (to write down pieces of dialogues, quotations, thoughts, sentences, whatever I encounter or comes into my mind and that can be possibly used later.)

Friday I met with Colleen and Edith to lunch, again in the Cosmic Cantina. This time I ordered the vegi quesedilla. As usual, the conversation was fascinating. Before I came in, Edith had been telling Colleen about her experiences as an intern in LA. She participated in the work on the movie Three Kings with George Clooney. So yes, she was an assistant to assistant to whatever in the production, and it was in the preliminary stages, but I still think it's exciting. Then we talked about many other things: writing, of course, but also our thoughts regarding marriage and kids and such interesting and deep issues.

At 3:30 the same day I got to the Study Abroad office, where the pickup for the trip to Washington D.C. was supposed to be. At around 4 we were all inside the van and ready to go. I decided to sit in the front seat, next to two girls who striked me as people I would get along with, and I was right. In the five hours that it took us to get to D.C. we've become quite well acquainted. The girls were the French Angelique and the Italian Valeria. We also made friends with Paul, who was the driver and the one in charge of the trip and with Louis, who also works in the Study Abroad office.

We got to D.C. at around 9 PM. We resided in a nice Bed & Breakfast named Adam's Inn. Valeria, Angelique and I took the only room that had 3 beds. I had a feeling the minute Paul wrote to us, weeks before, that there was one room with three beds that I would be in that room, but I was so afraid I would be just pinned on some poor couple of friends, so I was so relieved that it wasn't like that, but just the natural order of things.

We went to our rooms just to put down our things and met again downstairs (well, most of us, anyway) to join Paul to an Ethiopian restaurant named Red Sea (the name got me a little homesick.) We all shared our dishes and a bottle of wine, and the atmosphere was lovely. I really enjoyed myself.

Then Valeria, Angelique, Paul, Louis and I moved on, checking the local bars. We sat in one where beautiful jazz music was being played. We kept strolling for a while, until finally we got back. Before we all fell asleep, Angelique, Valeria and I had a very interesting and personal conversation. Valeria is a very direct person. She reminds me a little of all I'm not really missing in Israeli behavior. But I know she means well, and that at least I can count on her honesty. I also think she's smart and interesting. I love her nickname for me (I love it when new people find new and original nicknames for me.) Upon hearing my name and deciding that it's too complicated for her to remember she announced, "I think I'll call you Hamlet." Being an avid Shakespeare fan I liked the idea (even if I'm not nuts about the play itself.) And afterwards, even though she knew very well how to pronounce my name (except the CHET sound), she kept calling me Hamlet just for fun.

The next morning we woke up way too late in my opinion (but I didn't have an alarm clock, because I accidentally smashed mine the day before), and then it took us a long time to get ready, and to wake up Valeria, who's very hard to wake up (finally, Angelique asked her if she were ticklish, and that pretty much did the work.) We ate breakfast in this really nice cafe called Tryst (Tryst, Louis explained, is a secret hiding place for lovers such as Romeo and Juliet.) On the cafe's walls were original paintings and photographs, so I walked around and looked at everything while I was waiting for my breakfast. Finally, when I understood that the guys are just going to waste all morning I decided to go by myself, and Paul explained to me how to get to the metro.

I took the metro, but instead of switching to another metro I decided to walk a little, and so I did, and on my way I saw many monuments (Washington D.C. is full of them) and interesting buildings, including the FBI building, the National Archives and others that I can't recall right now.

Finally I got to the museum area, and it was quite late, but I went to the west wing of the National Gallery of Art, which I explored very thoroughly. There were paintings by many artists I know and like, and some I know and don't really care for, and some that I didn't know and came to like while looking at their works. This group was compounded mostly of American painters. I was particularly excited to see some works we had discussed in my American Memory seminar, including one that our guest lecturer had presented just three days before. While looking at the paintings, and recalling a conversation I had had the previous day with Valeria regarding originality in art, I finally found an idea for the story I was to submit the following Tuesday, so I sat on a bench in the middle of one of the rooms and started writing. The story is about the biblical Joseph, and it is called "Chosen" (but I'm still looking for an alternative title, if you have any suggestions.)

My next stop was the Natural History Museum, which is actually a part of the Smithsonian Institution. In this context, I would like to note how remarkable it is that you can go to all these wonderful museums in D.C. for free. I looked briefly at some fossils, and then moved to the section about Native Americans. Just before closing, I had gone through an unpleasant experience. A guy started following me around until finally he exposed himself in front of me. I walked away from the place quickly, and ran into an officer who was just telling everybody to head the other way, because the museum was closing. I told him about the guy, and then also saw him and identified him, and the museum people called the police, and I had to wait for a long time, and then write a statement and it was a whole procedure. Finally, the nice, young, good-looking policeman who got sent to take care of the case gave me a ride in his squad car to the closest metro station. We talked a little on the way and he said that the police squad sent the wrong officer, because he was a Duke fan. He was really cute.

By that time Paul and the others were all supposed to go to a Tibetan restaurant, so I decided to eat at MacDonald's and just go study in my room, because I had a lot of material to cover anyway, but when I approached our Bed & Breakfast, I saw the guys, who were already quite worried about me. I told them about my ordeal, and learned that they hadn't gone to dinner yet, so I decided to join them even though I already ate. The restaurant, named Mount Everest was a very nice one. I liked the smell and the music, and I nibbled on everybody's food, and even ordered a sweet carrot dessert.

Then we went to another little club that played jazz, and had the Duke-Maryland basketball game in the background. We learned that Maryland was already leading by more than 20 points, but Duke ended up winning by more than 10 points, thus getting to the final game. We were quite disappointed, and the waitresses seemed to have sided with us. I decided to head back to the B&B, but when I got there I remembered that Angelique had the key. I ended up waking the manager in order to get the extra key. I wrote some more of the story and so I was still up when Angelique and Valeria returned.

On Sunday we woke up early enough to have breakfast at the B&B, but again it took us forever to get organized. Still, I decided that I would stick with the gang rather than go by myself, even if it meant not doing all I wanted to do while at D.C.. We split to two groups. Paul, Valeria and I went to the east wing of the National Gallery, where we saw more modern paintings, including Mattisse, Renoir, Picasso and one of my favorite Rene Magritte's paintings.

At noon we saw an amazing film at the Natural History Museum. It was a 3-D imax, about the island Galapagos, and a marine biologist's search for more answers regarding the origins of species. It was amazing. You actually felt like you were in the middle of the ocean, and the content of the movie was impressive too. For example, they found a fish that had something resembling legs. It was the first they've even seen many of those creatures because they had never been so deep in the ocean before.

After the film, again we split up. Paul, Valeria and I went to China Town where we ate. I wanted to see the American History Museum, which is also a part of the Smithsonian and possibly also the Holocaust Museum, but I guess I'll do it next time I go to D.C..

The way home was really long. We stopped on the way in a few different spots, trying to find a place where we could eat. We finally found a diner named Denny's that looked just like diners in 50's movies. It was out of this world. A real genuine experience.

We ended up getting to Chapel Hill at 1:30 AM instead of 10 PM. I immediately went to the computer room at Hinton James to write the outline for my Drama Noir paper, and finish up my story. I didn't get too much sleep that night, as you can imagine.

Hamutal

I started the week tired, after having slept so little in order to write the outline and the story, and the week continued this way. The weekend in D.C. really took its toll. I found myself behind on my studies.

Then again, I got an H on my assignment about Native Americans in the Wild West Show and photography of the turn of the 19th century. H is like mid-90s, so it's a really good grade, especially if you take into consideration the fact that my instructor was also the one who wrote the book on which I was basing my arguments, which is always risky.

On Wednesday Valeria called me and invited me to have dinner with her and her friend Itay, whom she was anxious for me to meet. We couldn't decide where to go, but eventually Valeria took us to a very cheap, quite good Chinese food restaurant. It's a chain restaurant probably, but I liked the food and I liked the company. Itay lived in Israel until he was 7 and then his family moved to the US. I forgot what he's studying.

On our way back we went through the lawn where the so-called "Genocide Awareness Project" was, and this time there was a rape prevention project at work. They declared the place a 24 hour no rape zone - put booths there, and hung T-shirts on which were written the stories of rape victims and their friends. It was quite shocking.

On Friday Liz (from my Drama Noir class) was kind enough to take me shopping for a bottle of wine for the family with which I was going to spend the Seder the following night (it's the family from Raleigh I had had dinner with two weeks before - the friends of Danielle's aunt.) In the store I ran into my Modern Drama instructor who asked me if I cooked, and I answered jokingly that "not if my life depended on it." I almost got out of the store empty handed when the person at the cashier insisted that I showed her an NC ID card proving I was over 21. Finally Liz intervened and purchased the wine for me. It was utterly ridiculous!

After that we went to a nice place on West Franklin Street called the Tea Room , that sells Turkish delights and guava juice (you can picture my joy over that) and we talked. It seems that one of Liz's ancestors was famous. It's funny, because the first time I saw the spelling of her last name I thought I saw it in the Norton Anthology, but I didn't know she was actually connected to the person in it. Anyway, he was an old Southerner, way back, and a plantation and slave owner (a fact which Liz is deeply ashamed of), but apparently he was a good writer and did some good things too.

On Saturday noon, which was unbelievably hot for this time of year, I set out on my way to Raleigh for the Seder. I took two buses and was finally met by Wendy's stepfather - Bentley - and two older children at the bus station. We drove for quite some time. Raleigh is a really big city (in my terms, anyway.) Bentley was telling me about his visits to Israel in the past, and I questioned the children about the city and finally we got to Wendy and Mark's beautiful home.

When I got there, Wendy was already dressed. Her mother and mother-in-law were helping in the kitchen. Everybody seemed very excited to see me, and made me feel right at home. As time went by, more and more people arrived - Wendy's two brothers with their families, cousins (including one that Wendy's family had just discovered and saw for the first time), Mark's grandmother, who just turned 100 years old (I was shown the album that the family had made for the occasion. It was unbelievable. Some of the pictures looked like they were taken from movies.) I was struck by the warmth of this family. People from the two sides knew each other well and seemed to have really cared for each other. It was nice to see that.

At a little after 6:30 the Seder began. There was still light outside (we switched to daylight savings time on April 1st.) There were about 50 people altogether. We didn't sit by one table, because that would have been impossible. We just all sat in the living room and read the Hagada. The atmosphere was great. Everybody pitched in and did something or read something. I sat by Mark's cousins with whom I spoke in the intervals. I also volunteered take over the videotaping instead of one of the relatives whose hand was getting tired.

Then it was dinnertime. It was open buffet style, and Wendy hired the same caterer that she had used the previous day for the celebration of Mark's grandmother's birthday to watch over everything, even though I think most of the food was home made by the different relatives.

I'd spoken with many of Wendy and Mark's relatives who were all extremely nice to me. I enjoyed every minute of it. Finally at around 10 Wendy found me a ride to Chapel Hill with Mark's sister's date, so I said my goodbyes to all those wonderful new people I'd met and got back to Chapel Hill.

I think it was the most enjoyable Seder I've ever been to (and most of you well know that I'm not too big on Passovers.) I'm really grateful to Mark and Wendy for inviting me, and to Danielle's aunt for giving me their address to begin with.

Sunday was even hotter, I think, and people just wore bathing suits and went downstairs to sunbathe. It seems that the weather has moved from Winter to Summer, without going through Spring. The one time I'm actually in a place that has Spring, there has to be an exception. Oh, well. It might still change. It's only April.

Hamutal

Edith had invited me to dinner on Monday, so I met her after my Drama Noir class and we went to her place. Her boyfriend was already working on dinner. He was trying to make a dish he got served in a restaurant the week before. It was pasta with feta (sp?) cheese, tomatoes and olives. He served it along with garlic bread. It was really good. It reminded me of my brother's cooking.

Edith showed me some of her photographs. She's really good. She usually takes black and white pictures. Some of her works are displayed on the walls of her apartment.

In her room I also saw a big poster of the movie Three Kings, with dedications from people she had worked with. It must be so exciting to be a part of a famous movie, even if your job is not that big.

Dinner was not only good but also fun. Edith's boyfriend is really nice. I did, however, have a lot of work to do, so they took me back to my dorms quite early.

Monday and Tuesday were still very hot, but I felt that Tatiana was overdoing it with the air conditioning. I especially didn't like the fact that she kept it on at night, and soon enough (Wednesday), I woke up with a sore throat and a stuffed head. I got tired very easily and slept a lot.

Thursday was even worse. I could hardly breath and couldn't concentrate at all. After having dropped a tray at lunch, and having its contents spill all over me, I decided to skip the second class I had that day and go back to my room and try to sleep it off. Tatiana's been trying to be more considerate about the air conditioning, but I can tell she's really hot, even when I think it's cold. It's going to be very hard to work this out.

Luckily enough, she went to New Orleans for Easter Weekend, which meant finally having some privacy, not having to fight about the air conditioning and the unlimited use of her laptop.

On Friday evening I met with two of my classmates in my Drama Noir course, because all of us had to prepare together a presentation for Monday's class about the play The Maid's Revenge. We sat in one of the only cafes that were open on Good Friday and surprisingly enough, it served hamantaschen. I thought it was extremely funny. Anyway, we sat there for a while, divided the assignments between us and then Liz and I went to a place I've heard about that's called The Mediterranean Deli. I got hummus and pita bread and yogurt with cucumbers and unfortunately they didn't have guava juice that day.

Later I joined Liz as she went to the house where she house-sat and dog-sat (which incidentally is the house of the parents of my creative writing instructor), and then we went to Durham, where we planned to watch the movie Bridget Jones's Diary, but even though we came 45 minutes early it was already sold out. We decided not to go see anything else, but do it another time.

Saturday was quite nice. I studied, did laundry, played basketball with some of the guys, and watched a TV show that really moved me, so much, in fact, that I just started working on The Invisible Girl on which I wasn't going to work until I get back home. I kept working on it most of Sunday too. I think I finally located the structural problem that stopped me from proceeding before. I also watched two magnificent episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess that really got me in a good mood. The only thing that finally ruined my good mood was that I realized I had forgotten my wallet in the laundry room the day before (it was such a mess. The machine I was using got stuck, and I went upstairs and returned etc.). I started making inquiries, but by the time I went to sleep it was quite clear that I wasn't going to see my wallet again. The really irritating part was that I had 100$ in cash in that wallet. I never carry that kind of money on me. It was just that my dad told me that my credit card company and my bank were at odds, and that I should take out as much money as I can. I was just going to put some away in a secret stash, but since I was in a hurry, I decided to do it later. I'm still pissed off at myself for all the mistakes I've made that led me to forget my wallet.

Pissed off Hamutal

Monday I had a lot of theft related stuff to do, like tell the local police, call the credit card company (which was extremely inefficient) etc.

On Tuesday I was invited to Valeria's dorms for dinner. She cooked really good pasta and we just sat in the kitchen and talked about many interesting things. I realize I haven't described Valeria before, so here goes: she's very tall, has medium light brown hair and brown eyes and her features remind me a lot of Keren Mor (again, for my non-Israeli friends - she's a famous Israeli actress). Among many other things, we spoke about writing, and she told me about a brilliant Italian writer whose name I don't remember who sounds really good, only she says she doubts if he's been translated to any language. It's a pity. I really want to read the book she told me about.

What else? Wednesday I watched for the second time one of the most important films ever made, D. W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation. Last time I watched it it was for my film history class. This time it was for my American Memory seminar. It was even more shocking to watch the second time. This film is the most bluntly racist film I've ever seen. It was made in 1915 and is based on Thomas Dixon's novel The Clansman. It views the founding of the Ku Klux Klan as a positive moment in American history. The interesting and scary thing is to watch how Griffith brilliantly uses the new cinematographic techniques to manipulate the viewers. If you want to know more, you can read my response paper (especially you, Dana S. and Arbelle, because I know you know what I'm talking about.)

After watching the film I went to the Bull's Head (the university's bookstore), where there was a "meet the author" session with a guy named Dave Eggers, who wrote an unusual book named A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. The book is based on his own life, but has a lot of funny angles to it. I've been told you have to read it in order to understand. It was the most unusual experience. The guy is very funny. You can never tell when he's joking with you and when he's telling the truth. Many times he just decided that it was more interesting for him to ask certain people of the audience questions than the other way around. He finally signed copies of his books using crayons and glitter. I'm definitely going to read this guy's book sometime.

Thursday I convinced Sarah (my creative writing instructor) to go outside and sit in the sun. I love classes like this. Then in the afternoon we had our last American Memory class (next week the instructor is away, and classes end before we have a chance to have another class). I have to admit I was a little sad. We are going to meet next week for dinner, though.

On Friday I went with Liz and her friends to watch Bridget Jones's Diary. It was really nice and the experience was pretty much what I'm used to except for a few things. One is that the tickets didn't have seat assignments. Two is that there were no commercials, just previews and three is that there was no intermission (is intermission in the middle of the movie an Israeli invention? Tatiana haven't heard of it either). Anyway, the movie was great; funny, light and entertaining - just what I needed.

The weekend was crazy. I was trying to prepare my presentation for my Drama Noir course and wasn't sure how to do it. On Saturday I took a long break and met with my relative, whom I haven't seen for a while, for lunch and shopping. I was looking for a dress for next weekend (I'm going to attend a family wedding at Chicago) but everything was just hideous in my opinion. The only dress I sort of liked was not only very expensive but a size too big, so I guess I'll just have to wear whatever I do have. I'm beginning to be apprehensive about the whole thing.

That's about it for this week.

Hamutal

On my Modern Drama we read our final play for the semester, the very exciting and interesting Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee. On Wednesday we also saw about 40 minutes of the movie version, with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. I really like this play. I'm glad we studied it, because I was very curious about it, but some works you never get around to reading unless you're forced to do so.

On my Drama Noir's Movie Night we also saw a movie which I'm not sure I would have watched otherwise, but it was really good - L.A. Confidential - another neo-noir, with a particularly good cast.

But the highlight of the week was of course my trip to Chicago.

I woke up at about 4:15 AM on Saturday in order to catch my 7:00 AM flight. I ordered a cab to wait for me at 5:15 but it arrived earlier, so I ended up getting to the airport at 5:30, and was put on an earlier flight.

When I got to Chicago, Morris, Louise and Hannah (my relatives who are temporarily living in Durham) took me out to breakfast and then we went on a boat cruise across the Chicago river and out to Lake Michigan. The captain kept making funny remarks about all the buildings we saw on the way. The buildings themselves are really tall and for me scary. The very fancy hotel in which I was staying (the Executive Plaza) had almost 40 floors.

Although I was getting very tired, I still decided to join Morris, Louise and Hannah on a little shopping trip. My favorite part was a huge toy store into which I wanted to move permanently.

We ate lunch at MacDonald's of all places, and then I went up to their room to shower while they went to the wedding rehearsal, because Hannah had to rehearse the important role of a flower girl.

Now one of the major reasons I came to the wedding was in order to meet my grandmother's cousin, Frida. I met her once before when I was 10 and traveled all over the US and Canada with my parents and my brother. Now she's in her late 80's and the only remaining person of my grandmother's generation, so I wanted to use the oppotunity to see her. I also had the chance to meet both of her daughters, whom I'd never met before, and her son and grandson whom I met nearly 17 years ago.

Then we all went to a pizza reception. It seems that Chicago is known for its special pizza. In that reception I met a lot of other relatives I hadn't met before, and some I saw back when I was 10, and Steve and Beth were there, and Steve's brother and his newly pregnant wife.

I slept on the couch in Frida and Eileen's room (Eileen is Frida's youngest daughter), because even adding an extra bed would have cost 40$ a night (I told you, fancy), but it was comfortable enough for me.

The next day we met with Morris, Louise, Hannah, Morris's brother and nephew for breakfast. Hannah decided that she was going to eat exactly what I was eating, so I had to choose carefully. She'd been shadowing me all weekend.

The wedding was at noon. We got there by cab. I finally wore something I brought from home, but everybody seemed to have thought it was okay, so I guess it was. The wedding was in Jewish fashion, as Steve had put it, although the groom was not Jewish, a fact which Frida kept bringing up. I thought it was very nice, and I usually don't like weddings much. Hannah was a very good flower girl, too.

The wedding wasn't a huge wedding, but I guess it's very different from what we're used to in Israel, where everybody can just come by for a few hours and go back home quite effortlessly. Anyway, I liked it a lot. The reception was held under a big tent, and the food was self served. I spoke with everybody I wanted to speak with. I even danced the Hora with a few of my relatives and the Swing with poor Steve (I had warned him).

Then the bride threw the bouquet and I swear, there was this woman, about 85-90 who stood there and had her arms reached way high. Of course, it landed right in front of me, although I wasn't even on the floor, and I just ignored it and let whoever ended up picking it up pick it up.

People kept talking to each other, and taking a lot of pictures. Finally, it was time to go. We were among the last wedding guests. After the wedding most of the people flew back home. I called home and let my mom speak with all her relatives. By the time we all finished talking and getting dressed and saying goodbye to whoever was leaving that night, it was time for dinner.

We walked around for ages before we found something open. You'd think it wouldn't be so hard on a Sunday in the center of Chicago. I was developing a headache and Hannah was driving me nuts, demanding all my attention all of the time (she always does it. It's quite tiring) until I finally told her that she didn't make the rules and that I was going to talk with whomever I wan, whenever I want, and that seemed to have worked. Again she insisted on ordering whatever I was ordering, so I found it was a good opportunity to finally eat something healthy. The side dish of that something healthy was broccoli, a vegetable which I don't care much for, and she ate everything and then scolded me for not eating mine. I gave it a try, but never finished all of them.

When we got back to the hotel, everybody met in our room, and I needed to study, so I went to Morris and Louise's room until everybody let, and then I went to sleep, only to wake again at 4 and head back home.

It was very special for me to meet my relatives. During the wedding I thought a lot about my grandmother, and the notion of family, and being Jewish, and even the holocaust. Seeing my extended family together like that made me feel proud. I can't really explain that feeling.

I know I was apprehensive about going to Chicago at first, but I'm glad I did.

Hamutal

Tuesday was the last Creative Writing class. Sarah brought snacks and sweets (she said about one brand that she brought it especially for me because it was an American institution and that I just had to taste it) and Rachel brought a cake. Sarah also gave prizes for perfect attendance, so I got this really silly drawing etch thing that you get for a prize when you're seven. It was really sweet. Then she took the picture of the four perfect attendance prize winners.

Sarah made fun of Marianne's class for sitting in class and reading journals on the last day, while she suggested that we go out and play kickball (it's like baseball, only you have a bigger ball and you kick it), but soon enough Marianne showed up and said that her class said they can kick our ass in kickball. We accepted the challenge, not before we made sure we ate all the sugary things we could and took class pictures.

Kickball was so much fun, even though Marianne's class did kick our ass. We comforted ourselves in saying that we were better writers. We named our group Onomatopoeia, and had a cheer and huddled and Sarah gave us prep talks. It was really cool. It was like nothing I've done ever since I was a kid. I got confused by the rules, and it cost us our home base status twice, but on other occasions I did really well. And my group really cheered me on. They called me "the Isreali devil" and said that I should show them "how they kick in Israel." My favorite part was when I was almost out and I slid to base, just like in the movies. I wore my grass stain like a badge all day after that.

Then finally class was over, and we all said goodbye and sang Happy Birthday to Amy, and I gave Sarah this painting I made on a bark (I made such gifts for some of my friends too), of a butterfly, and she seemed to have really liked it. She said her third book had a butterfly motif in it, so it was a good choice. I just remembered that she said she used to like the Butterfly House as a child (I went there with Hannah and Louise the first week after I arrived at Chapel Hill).

That evening I was supposed to go to the last Drama Noir movie night. We were supposed to watch the director's cut of Blade Runner on DVD at Dr. Kendall's house. It turned out that Liz and I had our signals mixed, and so I ended up not going, which was really depressing, and I was quite depressed about the end of the semester as it was.

Wednesday was my very last class - Modern Drama. We talked about issues that might end up being included in the exam. I was going to go to the gym straight after, but I ran into Liz and decided to join her and her roommate Maggie to lunch at the Mediterrenian Deli (Liz persuaded me when she mentioned the guava juice). It was fun. I really missed eating hummus, and Liz and Maggie make good company.

Then I went to Sarah's office, to ask her to sign a book for me, which she did, and we talked a little. She's really cool. After that I ended up going to the gym anyway, for the first time in two weeks, and it was great. I forgot how energetic it makes me feel.

That evening I went to an end-of-the-course party for my American Memory seminar, which was held in the same building where we had our classes throughout the semester. Most people made dishes themselves. They're all such good cooks. We used to take turns bringing snacks to class, so I had a chance to taste their cooking before. My instructor and one of the students brought their husbands, so it was not only saying goodbye but meeting new people too.

Thursday was weird. I didn't know what to do with myself. I needed to study, but having no place to go to was too weird. At least I went to the gym again. Then at night was the famous 3 hour Survivor episode, and I know it's stupid, but when they talked about what it means for them to leave Australia and go back home after not having been there for weeks, I really identified with them.

I was quite busy over the weekend studying, so I didn't do anything but take long TV breaks and trying not to think of the following week.

Hamutal

I tried to make sure that I meet everybody at least one more time before leaving, so I met Jennie for lunch on Monday (although I was supposed to meet her once more in London before my birthday) and Colleen and Edith for supper on Monday. We went, as usual, to the Cosmic Cantina and stayed there for a long time, having the most interesting conversation - as usual. Then we went to Starbucks for coffee and a scone and talked some more, until it was time to leave, about two and a half hours later, and I couldn't help feeling very sad. Colleen tried to tell me that if she joins the Peace Cord like she intends to do she might come visit Israel. I hope she will.

On Wednesday I met Valeria for lunch, and learned that she, like me, was going to stay at UNC until the 17th, so we talked about meeting again.

I stayed up all night Wednesday to write my Drama Noir paper. In the beginning it just wouldn't come to me, until I had some kind of a breakthrough (or was it John from the computer room who scolded me for trying too hard to make things perfect), but finally I did manage to write 21 pages of something and submit it before lunch, for which I was supposed to meet with Rowena, but she didn't show up.

I met Liz for dinner and we went to a place which she said served real Southern food - chicken dumplings, biscuits etc. I liked it. I liked the food in the US, save the fact that the fruits and vegetables aren't very good. Liz insisted on paying for the whole dinner, as a going away gesture. Again, I was saddened by the thought of not seeing her again. (I know it doesn't have to be that final, but it's not like in Israel, where like it or not, you'd probably bump into the same people again and again.)

On Friday I had my last obligation for the semester - the exam in Modern Drama. This time I had enough time to finish the exam (I was among the last people who did) and then I was free, and it made me feel overwhelmingly joyous and sad at the same time.

I went to Franklin street and bought some UNC stickers, and picked up my photographs from D.C. and went to visit the people in the Study Abroad office to show them the picture and say goodbye. And then I went into some buildings that I was always curious about, and the botanical garden that I've always seen from afar. And finally I got back to the dorms quite late, and could not think of anything, so I just watched TV and went through that thick writing guide I bought in San Francisco until it was very late.

Saturday I went to the gym, and to the computer lab in Davis library so I would have all of my work on disk (I saved a lot of things on my private folder on the UNC computer system. I also ate my last meal at UNC - a brunch. Then I came back and Tatiana was almost all packed. I heard her playing the same songs I heard all semester on her computer, and I figured some of them will always remind me of her and our room, and then she put James Taylor's Carolina in My Mind and we both got pretty emotional over that.

All day I watched old Saturday Night Live episodes on Comedy Central, and it was just what I needed. I was so happy I could still have the TV in my last few days at UNC, because I needed to sell it ASAP (and I was afraid I was too late already - so many people had left before the exam season was officially over), but I also needed to take my mind off the sadness of leaving. So luckily for me I found a buyer who was going to be around anyway, and so he agreed to pick up the TV the day I left the dorms.

Tatiana left around midnight. I helped her carry down her things. I knew that even if we did have our differences once in a while, and even if neither of us was the perfect roommate, it had been a good arrangment and I was going to miss her.

I got back up and watched more TV and circled more magazine names in the big book until finally I went to sleep, using the sleep timer to ease me into sleeping.

I woke up quite early the next day. It was so quiet in the dorms it was quite depressing. I watched Saturday Night Live all day again, while packing most of my stuff. Then I went to the gym again and then I met Morris, Louise and Hannah for dinner on Franklin Street. I got right in time to watch Xena: Warrior Princess for the last time in the US, and it was a good episode for that. It was very emotional and exciting to watch, and it involved one of my favorite tricks - alternative universes. Anyway, it was all so symbolic to me. Again I stayed up very late, with no real reason. I wasn't sure whether I was leaving on Tuesday or Monday (it was up to my relatives), so as far as I knew, this could have been my last night at UNC, which made it hard for me to let go and fall asleep.

Hamutal

I started reading one of my Creative Writing instructor's books (Keeping the Moon - the one she signed for me). It seemed like an approrpriate goodbye. I also watched a lot of TV again, but I fell asleep earlier than I had intended.

The next day I still had time to do some things - walk around, make sure my TV's buyer was coming. Finally in the afternoon my relatives came to pick me up. I wasn't in the mood for doing anything, but we went to eat in a Chinese restaurant where we'd eaten at least twice before, and buy some things I needed.

Wednesday was my last day in NC and US in general. In the morning I joined Louise and Hannah on a field trip in Hannah's school. It wasn't a long ride. The kids visited a greenhouse in Hillsboro. Later we picked up Morris and we all went to Raleigh. We went to Art Space, where many artists' studios are located, and talked to some of the artists, and looked at their works. Then I got to eat real Southern food again. Then we went around and saw some of the interesting buildings and monuments and even visited the North Carolina History Museum.

When we got back, Hannah went to her Karate class, and Morris stayed with her, while Louise and I went shopping for Hannah's birthday present (her birthday is in June, but we said we'd celebrate both of our birthdays together before I left) - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and some other things I needed, and I saw this place called cinnamonster - what a rip off. It's my name. I invented it. And it was just what you'd imagine it would be - they sell all things cinnamon. I wish we had had time to stop there.

We picked up Morris and Hannah and went to dinner, again in a very Southern place. Then we got home and I gave Hannah my present, and we blew up balloons and played with them. Louise seemed to enjoy herself very much with the balloons. Both she and Morris were writing a neverending paper, and it was a good way to let off some steam.

Then Hannah went to sleep (although she intentionally prevented herself from falling asleep for a very long time, because she wanted to be awake when I left), and we adults watched the season finale of The West Wing and then I arranged my things and took a shower and went to sleep.

I woke up at quater to five the next morning. It was already quite late, because the cab driver was supposed to pick me up at 5. Morris and Louise hadn't woken up. I dressed up as quickly as I could, and when I was just about ready the cab driver called over the phone. That woke everybody up, and I had a chance to say goodbye to Morris and Louise, and even Hannah woke up and said goodbye to me, although she didn't get up.

The flights were incredibly long and tiring, and I had to pay an incredible amount of money because my luggage exceeded the weight limit, so I was quite upset. On the plane to London I watched Miss Congeniality - a cute but silly film, and read a lot. When finally I got to the airport my ears were plugged. Then I realized my luggage wasn't there, and being tired and nervous I started crying. But when I found out that the gentleman who was also complaining about his missing luggage was on the same connection flight from Raleigh I understood that there was nothing to worry about.

It was already almost 11 PM. The person from American Airlines let me fill out some forms and then accompanied me outside, where I was supposed to meet Dana Yechieli, who had the address and phone number of our B&B. And there she was, waiting for me with a stuffed snow leopard she had bought for me that day. She said I was actually quite lucky that I didn't have all my luggage with me because the Left Luggage services were closing, and it was going to take us a while to get to the B&B.

I couldn't grasp the fact that I was in London or that I was seeing Dana again. I was so tired, and had gone through so much. Our B&B was beautiful. Dana and I planned to talk for a while, but she had fallen asleep before I was out of the shower. By that time, I wasn't tired anymore, because for my body it was still early night, so I read more of Keeping the Moon until I felt sufficiently tired.

Even lying in bed in my Londonian B&B room, with Dana sleeping in the other bed, I still found it hard to grasp that my adventurous 4.5 months in North Carolina were finally over. At least being in London was less of a transition. I was still abroad, and still exploring, and sad as I was about leaving the US, I was looking forward to my next (4 day) adventure.

THE END