Some (very) random reflections

I still need to write about the second half of my Passover break, but I wanted to share with you some very brief and very random reflections I've had over the past few weeks.
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A few days after Passover break, my hevruta Naomi and I got through a relatively easy amud (one side of a page of gemarra) in one 3.5 hour study session, and pretty much understood most of it. We felt very proud and accomplished...until we realized that if we were to do Daf Yomi,* it would be a full time job. (And, we were using a Steinzaltz.**)
*Daf Yomi is a practice of studying one daf (a full page of gemarra, front and back) every day. A person doing Daf Yomi takes 7 years to complete the entire Talmud.
**the Steinzaltz is sort of a beginner's edition of the Talmud, with vowels and punctuation, extra commentary, and translations into Hebrew when the Aramaic gets tricky.
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A couple weeks ago, there was a duststorm, or maybe a sandstorm, I don't know. Outside, it was hot and windy, and the wind was hot. It felt pretty uncanny to have this wind blowing and have it not cool me off in the slightest. From the Pardes Bet Midrash on the third floor (4th if you count floors American-style) everything outside looked white. Like fog, except you could tell it wasn't fog.
Just another reminder that we're practically in the desert.
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Every time I walk into a mall or supermarket and the security guard checking my bag asks "יש לך נשק?" "Do you have a weapon?", my initial reaction is still to snort and think, "And if I had one, would I tell you?" As an American, my association with security checks is limited to airports, and a person attempting to carry a gun into a mall is probably concealing it--so it seemed to me that the security guard's question was a weird one. Until one day I realized that in this country, a lot of people carry guns; mostly soldiers in uniform with their uzzis, but every so often you see a random civilian with a gun on his belt. As strange as it seems to me, "Yes, and here's my ID" is probably a perfectly legitimate response to "יש לך נשק?"
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Two weeks ago, I went with my friend Miriam to her volunteer placement, an Ethiopian absorption community in Mevaseret Zion. Ethiopian immigrants live in the absorption community for the first two years that they are in Israel; after that they are expected to integrate into Israeli society. They often face discrimination, have low employment rates and high school dropout rates.
It is also interesting to note that because of concern about their Jewish status, Ethiopian immigrants are required to convert upon moving to Israel. Because conversions in Israel are controlled by the (Orthodox) Israeli Rabbinate, the Ethiopian immigrants are expected to live an Orthodox lifestyle, and their children must attend Orthodox religious schools. It was also interesting, as Miriam put it, "to see who reaches out to this community" (and who doesn't). The majority of the volunteers--aside from a few Pardes students and some Hebrew Union College students--are from religious youth movements.
I had a good time playing with 3 of the kids from Miriam's "family." It turns out that my Hebrew is basically pretty sufficient when talking to 5-year olds, at least. I even got my hair braided and tried my first injera.