The smell of fresh paint
Is this your first time here? Don’t be nervous… it’s mine too.
I remember the first time I moved into the Hebrew University dorms on Mount Scopus. I was the first one to arrive on the floor, and the silence was overwhelming.
The strongest memory I have from that afternoon is the smell of fresh paint. All of the hallways and rooms had been given a fresh coat of blindingly white paint, and all the windows were wide open, blowing the clean institutional smell through rooms and hallways.
I had just finished four years in the navy, and shipboard life had not prepared me for this moment of ‘aloneness’. I was anxious for somebody, anybody, to arrive.
I didn’t have long to wait though. Soon the floor was awash in the sound of laughter and music… as well as the aromas of ethnic cooking styles that nature and politics had never imagined mingling together in the air.
Well, I hear Harry moving around in the next room, cooking up something about Tel Aviv’s Kitchenette… so I know I’m not alone here. But the newness and nervousness of this new beginning is still lingering in the air.
In the next days and weeks this spot will be filled with the thoughts and experiences of a diverse group of writers who span the political and religious spectrum about as broadly as any collection of English speakers could reasonably be expected to.
I don’t know about you, but I’m as nervous and excited as I was on that first day of school.
Ah, the smell of fresh paint!











