Rak Po

Only here, rak po, could I wake up to the sounds of Bibi Netanyahu's motorcade sirens. He lives in my neighborhood.

Rak po could I study Hebrew for four hours a day and feel like no time has passed.

Rak po could I walk down Ben Yehuda and stumble upon an army propaganda festival-and love it.

Rak po could I eat the same breakfast every day and not mind because my pudding label is b'ivrit.

Rak po could I do my homework from a second floor patio in the midst of traffic and the Jerusalem rush, protected by our flowering window boxes and beautiful wrought iron gates.

Rak po could I make 80 best friends in seven days.

Rak po could I love a land so deeply and crave the smell of the city and feel of the white stones under my feet.

Rak po could I write a blog interesting enough for other people to read.

Yom Huledet Sameach, Mama!!!!