Christmas in Jerusalem

Pretty much since I arrived in Israel (if not before), I had people back home saying how amazing it would be to be in Israel for Christmas. The thing that everyone seems to have forgotten is the fact that Israel is Jewish - they don't care about Christmas! The only reason I had Christmas Day off was because it fell on Shabbat; otherwise, I would have been in class. And I admit, I let the lack of festivities get to me a bit. I was bummed to be halfway around the world at Christmastime, bummed that the IDF interfered with our Bethlehem plans, bummed in general.

But, I must also admit, I was pleasantly surprised with how things turned out.

Christmas Eve day, I met with Ayana, my language buddy (a program Hebrew U offers to help international students learn and practice Hebrew). Ayana is a really sweet girl, who not only helps me with my Hebrew but also has been showing me around Jerusalem. And she got all excited this week when I spoke several sentences in Hebrew, all correctly! (Sadly, it is a surprise and reason for celebration - not only did I get the grammar correct, but also the pronunciation!) Anyways, she was supposed to show me around one of the oldest neighborhoods, but I asked if we could visit the Christian Quarter of the Old City because I had heard there were Christmas decorations there. Either I was misinformed or they were all hiding, because we didn't find any! But it was still fun to wander around and talk in Hebrew.

Christmas morning, there was worship at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City. I spent last Saturday with a group of people from the congregation (including the

pastor and his wife), and they had invited me to worship. My roommate Annie asked to come with me, which was really nice. She wanted to share Christmas with me, since I celebrated Chanakuh with her all eight nights. It was a lovely worship service, not very large, with all the good Christmas hymns. And the sermon just happened to be well-suited to Annie, as it included reference to Rabbi Hillel and the story of a picture (right) sketched on Christmas Eve during the battle of Stalingrad by Kurt Reuber, a German Lutheran fighting for the Nazis. What makes the drawing so special is that he drew Mary and baby Jesus with Eastern features - as the pastor said, "he saw the face of God in the face of the enemy." It does make one think - during these times of restlessness and uncertainty, do we see the face of God in the face of the enemy? Both the Israeli and the Palestinian - the Jew, the Christian, and the Muslim - contain the image of God. We all share the Hebrew Scriptures, we all read Genesis 1 - "And God created humanity in God's image, in the image of God, God created humanity, male and female, God created them" (v. 27). I think it becomes a little harder to view the enemy as an enemy when we remember that person was also created by God, in the image of God.

After worship, we still had some time before the Christmas brunch back at the pastor's house, so Annie and I decided to wander around the Old City, which led to us getting rather lost in the Old City. After awhile, I got a little overwhelmed and panicky, but luckily Annie kept her cool and eventually we not only found a gate, but the gate we actually wanted. I had gotten to the point that I told Annie I didn't care which gate we found, I just wanted out of the Old City! From there, we caught the bus to the LWF compound, where the pastor lives, even though we were a little early. (Not only did I want out of the Old City, I also wanted to get far away from it!) The brunch was lovely and the food delicious. It was a gorgeous day - clear blue skies, in the 60s - so we ate outside on the pavilion, overlooking Jerusalem and the Old City. The view was too beautiful for words. We ended up staying longer than I had anticipated (in part because some people had problems getting there, thanks once again to the Bethlehem checkpoint), but it was such a lovely time. I think Annie and I were the first to leave, too. But as I told Fred and Gloria, some of us had homework to do - and class today!

I spent a nice portion of my afternoon and evening talking to my parents (and later, my brother) on the web cam. And my mom bribed the dog with treats so I could see him too. In between I did homework, or at least pretended to!

All in all, it was a nice Christmas. Obviously I would have preferred to have spent the day with my family, but it was a great alternative. Earlier in the week, I had talked with some Jewish classmates about Christmas, and one of them remarked, "I love being in Israel for Christmas" because Christmas is a non-event here. In America, the Christmas season starts the day after Thanksgiving (if not before!) and it is everywhere, in your face, all the time. Jews (and others who don't celebrate Christmas) cannot escape it, whereas Chanakuh is at best an afterthought. (Chanakuh is admittedly a minor holiday in the Jewish year, but none of the Jewish holidays receive any real public attention or appreciation.) So, in a sense, being a Christian in Jerusalem is a bit like being a Jew in America. The conversation definitely made me think. I am often aware of my minority status here (although I can "pass" for a Jew, until someone asks my name - somehow "Christina" just doesn't sound Jewish!), and Christmas has been no exception. But like my experience with the Bethlehem checkpoint last weekend, I look at this as an opportunity to get a glimpse - however small - of what others experience all the time.

Bethlehem Blues

So I decided to get me some Christmas, which meant a trip to Bethlehem was in order.

My friend Bethany lived in Bethlehem for a year and a half and is dating a Palestinian, so when she heard I wanted to visited the city, she invited me to join her yesterday. She was going to the Lutheran World Federation compound on the Mount of Olives in the morning to bake and decorate Christmas cookies at the pastor's house. She was running late, so she decided we should take a taxi instead of walking. The taxi driver was a Palestinian, and Bethany started speaking to him in Arabic. In the course of the conversation, she told the driver she had lived in Bethlehem and he said he lived in Bethlehem. She told him we were going there that afternoon, and he said he would take us there for free, on his way home. I was a little suspicious of this offer, not because he was Palestinian, but because this young man was a complete stranger, but apparently that is just Middle Eastern (or at least Palestinian) hospitality.

We arrived at the compound and got to work with the cookies. It turned out just to be the pastor's wife, two other ladies, Bethany, her friend Britt and me. Britt was also going to Bethlehem with us, as she and Bethany had appointments to get their haircut. Baking the cookies was a lot of fun. Instead of decorating the cookies with icing, we used glaze made out of egg yolks, painting the cookies before baking them. I was not very good at it, so most of mine were just solid colors, instead of some of the intricate patterns and designs of the others. But in the end, they all tasted equally yummy!

When it came time to leave, Bethany called the taxi driver and we met him near the Old City. On the way to Bethlehem, he showed us where the 1967 lines were, compared to where the security wall was built and where the checkpoints are. There is a village that is half in and half out, and the people living there have to go through the checkpoint to make a u-turn to go through again, just to go to Bethlehem. Our driver was telling us about his family. One of his parents is a Palestinian from Bethlehem and the other is an Israeli from Jerusalem. As a result, he is a Palestinian with a Jerusalem card, but his family must maintain two homes - one in each city. His older siblings do not have Jerusalem cards, but his younger brother (who is still a minor) does. Apparently the older ones had some sort of "mark" on their record that allowed IDF to deny them cards. I didn't quite understand all of it, but I'm not sure he really does either. It is an example of the randomness of the occupation.

And then there was the checkpoint. We were stopped and the driver had to show his papers and we had to show our passports. We thought that would be it, and we would be on our way. No. We had to pull over, and they started questioning our driver. They kept calling him over and sending him back. Apparently a couple of months ago, he had received a call from someone claiming to be from the Tel Aviv police who wanted to ask him some questions. He asked how he could know that she was really with the police, which is a valid question. He asked her to send him the questions in the mail and he would answer them, to which she agreed. Well, the questions never came and now he is "wanted." The police jeep came and six armed soldiers got out, ready to arrest him. They kept trying to get him to let us girls go (as if he was holding us hostage!), though I suspect it would have been much worse for him if we would have left. Finally, the decision was made that if he could get someone to come and co-sign that he would appear in court tomorrow (today) in Tel Aviv at 9am, he could go. His friend came, another Palestinian (which surprised me - I figured they would require him to have an Israeli vouch for him). We then had to wait for the document to arrive from the other checkpoint, just a few minutes away, but it took over 30 minutes for the police jeep to return with it. All in all, we were held up for nearly two hours. The driver was so apologetic, when we just felt so bad for him (and Bethany and I were on the verge of going over and decking one or two of the soldiers, we were so frustrated with them!). And the thing is, as much as it sucked for us three girls, it was one day for us. That is the kind of thing the Palestinians face everyday.

By the time we got to the hair salon, we were almost two hours late. They told Bethany and Britt they could take them in five minutes, no problem. Of course, five minutes turned into ten and

then fifteen. They finally took Britt and washed her hair, but then she just sat there, waiting. After nearly an hour, Bethany (who was all worked up and stressed out) decided she wasn't going to wait anymore, so the two of us left and went to Manager Square (right). We saw the Christmas trees in the peace center, where Bethany had worked. From there, we walked over to a shop that was recommended to me (where I bought presents for Gabby instead of for my parents!) and then we visited the Milk Grotto. Bethany decided to go back to the hair salon to see if they could cut her hair now. They were finishing up with Britt, so we parted ways with Bethany (who had a party to go afterwards) and went to the infamous Bedouin shop, owned by the even more infamous Majdi. He made us tea and told us stories and promised that any time we came to Bethlehem he would pick us up from the checkpoint and take us around. He even said that when our families come (since Britt's family is coming for Christmas and my parents are coming in January) that we would show us around Bethlehem and take us to Hebron. After we made our purchases (another present for Gabby and one for Jackson, but also

finally a gift for my parents), Majdi insisted on taking us back to Manager Square, where we were meeting up with the pastor, his wife and the assistant pastor. We were supposed to go see the Christmas tree lighting and the parade, but we had missed them. So instead, we decided to get dinner. On the way, we saw three other young people who are part of the church, so we picked them up and they texted their two friends whom they had been separated from to meet us at The Tent Restaurant, the Bedouin restaurant that I didn't get to enjoy in 2009 because hiking up the

Herodium in 110 degree heat all but killed me. There were ten of us, and we just had the

assorted salads with pita, and it was delicious. The pastor and his wife, bless their hearts, picked up the entire tab. The ten of us then piled into the 8 passenger van and the pastor switched into his chauffeur role and drove us all home. Luckily, some of the kids live in Bethlehem, so only seven of us had to go across the checkpoint, which we crossed with no problem.

All in all, it was a very long, exhausting and stressful day. I was able to enjoy some Christmas, although it was overshadowed by the ridiculousness of the IDF and the rudeness of the Arabic taxi drivers in Bethlehem (which I left out of the story for simplicity's sake, but let me assure you, they were awful!) But I guess that is Christmas in the Holy Land - nonexistent in Israel and big business in Bethlehem.

Fires & Festivals

Happy Chanakuh!

One of my favorite parts about living in Jerusalem is being immersed in the Jewish culture and customs. It has been so much fun celebrating Chanakuh with Annie, my Jewish roommate. We light the candles every night (though I do not always stay up until they burn out), and last night we made latkes, potato pancakes. For those of you who have never had latkes, they are kind of like hash browns but with egg added and fried into little patties. Another Chanakuh delicacy is sufganiyot, jelly-filled donuts with powdered sugar on top.

The biggest news in Israel right now, of course, is the Haifa forest fires that have already claimed 41 lives since they started December 2. What makes the fires so bad is that there has been no rain - in the two months I have been living in Jerusalem, we have had one light sprinkling that lasted only a few minutes (although they are calling for rain in the morning!, even if it is only a 30% chance). In addition to the "deadly inferno," there have been several arsonist fires started in the region. You can see a map of the fires here. Two teenage boys have been arrested for starting the original fire through negligence, although the trial will surely be a political nightmare, since the boys are from a Druze village and the family is claiming the boys are being framed (implying that the arrest was racially/ethnically motivated), not to mention the fact that the four different articles I read all contained different information on exactly how they are said to have caused the fire. The Haifa fire is the worst fire in the nation's history, and help is pouring in from all over the world. Even Palestine, despite all the hostilities since the peace talks collapsed, has offered aid:

Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas also offered to send help, which he conveyed in a rare telephone conversation with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The two are believed not to have spoken since US-brokered peace negotiations collapsed in September.

This whole situation is such a tragedy. 12,000 acres of forest and 5 million trees have been destroyed. 17,000 people have been evacuated. 41 people have died. And all during what is supposed to be a fun holiday season. In fact, Haifa hosts an annual "Holiday of Holidays" event that celebrates Chanakuh, Christmas and Eid al Adja - the December holidays of the world's three major monotheistic faiths - and the day before it started, the area went up in flames. I was supposed to be in Haifa today with a group of the graduate students from RIS to celebrate the holiday season, but that trip, of course, was cancelled.

On a much happier note, my parents have finalized many of their plans for their visit in January. The plane tickets have been bought, and the hostels have been booked. (Of course, we are supposed to spend two days in Haifa, so the itinerary might have to be adjusted, but at the moment, I am more concerned about the people than about our vacation plans!)

Shalom, and for my Christian brothers and sisters celebrating the Second Sunday of Advent, may the Peace of Christ be with you!

Potlucks & Politics

My friend Katie (who is actually a Canadian) organized a Thanksgiving potluck and luckily my stomach decided to cooperate, so I actually got to enjoy some American foods! We had chicken instead of turkey, and the desserts were Israeli (no pumpkin pie!), but otherwise, we had most of the typical Thanksgiving items: mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, gravy, cornbread, veggies, cranberries, and so on. And we had 25-30 people crammed into a tiny 2-person apartment!

The day before Thanksgiving, I ran across an AP article online about the settlement issue in East Jerusalem. I knew that East Jerusalem had been annexed by Israel after the 1967 war, but I didn't realize that no other nation recognized this annexation. Thus, I understand why the Palestinians view the East Jerusalem Jewish neighborhoods as illegal settlements. This is a much more heated issue than the settlements in the West Bank. I have spoken to many Jews here (although they have mostly been the international students at Rothberg) who oppose the occupation and who are in favor of a two-state solution in which Israel would withdraw from settlements in the West Bank. However, not all of the people who support that also support the division of Jerusalem, with East Jerusalem for the capital of the new Palestinian state. I would speculate that most Jews believe that Jerusalem should remain united and under Israeli control, with equal access to the Old City/holy sites. This is also a much more tangible issue for me, and the other international students, because I basically live in one of the so-called "Jewish neighborhoods" of East Jerusalem. The Hebrew University Mount Scopus campus has always been under Israeli control (although it was closed from 1948-1967 due to its location in East Jerusalem), and I assume that the kfar was built on land that originally belonged to Hebrew U. But when I exit through the north gate to go to the store or to catch a bus, I am in French Hill, which is a post-1967 neighborhood. At least, unlike like some of the other "neighborhoods" in East Jerusalem, the French Hill area (from what I have read) was not occupied by Arabs prior to the construction of the neighborhood. (Of course, I have also been told that there was nothing in Israel between the expulsion of the Jews after the Bar Kochba revolt and the Zionist movement that led to Jewish immigration...)

Now I have never been shy about the fact that I am pro-Palestine (although I still maintain that one can be pro-Palestine without being anti-Israel, and presumably, vice versa), and the issue of East Jerusalem is no different. I previously (naively) assumed that East Jerusalem would be granted to Palestine in any two-state solution. Any claim to Jerusalem as the rightful Jewish capital is null when it comes to East Jerusalem. Jerusalem, under Hebrew/Israelite/Jewish control, never included East Jerusalem. At most, the biblical Jerusalem included the modern-day City of David, Temple Mount and Western Hill (essentially, the land directly south of the Temple Mount and the Old City). There is no historical reason why the Palestinians should not be granted East Jerusalem as their capital. Of course, for political reasons, having the Israeli and Palestinian capitals literally on top of each other could be volatile, but the original UN partition of 1948 divided Jerusalem so that both states could have it as their capital.

Of course, it is easy for me to sit here and loudly proclaim into cyberspace that the settlements must go. It doesn't really affect me in the least. Peace (a two-state solution) will not be reached while I am living here, and while I plan to visit Israel in the future, perhaps even for extended stays (say, as I am working on my dissertation), the personal impact on me will be minimal. I am not a resident of a settlement or of an East Jerusalem Jewish neighborhood. There is no threat of me being permanently displaced. So it's easy for me to say that East Jerusalem should go to the Palestinians and that the settlements need to be disbanded ASAP. I don't have to deal with the logistical nightmare that accompanies such a plan - What do you do with all of those now-homeless residents? Is a "simple" house-swap (Palestinian to Israeli and vice versa) feasible? (Are there enough homes on both sides of the equation? Are they of comparable size and worth?) What kind of impact would it have on the economy and on the job situation? (although, from my understanding, many settlers work in Israel, not the West Bank, so that wouldn't be so much an issue for them) How will it affect the children who are ripped from their homes, their schools and their friends? How do the refugees factor into all of this? and so on and so forth.

But the bottom line, I believe, is that regardless of the headaches it might cause in the mean time, a two-state solution is much preferable to the alternative - increasing violence and war. And while I do not have anything to gain or lose in how the land is shuffled around, I have a lot at stake when it comes the need for peace in the Middle East. We all do. This land is holy, and not just because blood is continuously split on it. It is at the heart of the three major religions of the world, and we all deserve safe and equal access to our spiritual homeland. It is not fair for the Jewish people to claim it as their own - nor would it be fair for the Muslims or Christians to do likewise. We all go back to Abraham, and therefore, this land belongs to all of us. While our religions are different, our God is the same. For that reason alone, we must learn how to get along, how to love our neighbor, whether they be Jewish, Muslim or Christian, both here in Israel and in the greater world - but especially here in Israel.

Being Sick Abroad

It goes without saying that it is being sick is no fun, but let me assure you, being sick halfway around the world is about a million times worse.

For over a week now, I have been dealing with an upset stomach. At first, I chalked it up to my normal stomach peculiarities, but as time went on, more and more foods were being added to the "can't eat" list, until only pudding, graham crackers and apples were left. Then on Friday I started getting really lightheaded. Not my normal, "I'm dizzy, I need to sit down" lightheadedness but seeing white, ears ringing about to pass out lightheadedness. Between Friday and Saturday, I think I was awake a total of 8-9 hours each day.

Today, for some bizarre reason, I was absolutely determined to go to class (which was pointless, since I couldn't concentrate and just walking to campus completely wore me out). But my friend Kristin, the wonderful woman that she is, agreed to accompany me to the doctor's, which meant I needed to figure out our international health insurance. So I called the number on the insurance card, and I got this lady who was less than helpful. She wanted to know where I lived, so I told her Hebrew University Mt Scopus campus, or French Hill. She kept asking what neighborhood and I kept telling her French Hill, and she was like, "I can't help you if you don't know the neighborhood." French Hill IS the neighborhood! Luckily, the call dropped and when I called back, I reached a much more polite, much more helpful woman, who gave me the numbers and addresses of the two walk-in 24 hour clinics in Jerusalem. So Kristin and I caught the bus to the closer of the two.

I didn't have to wait very long, but my doctor didn't really know English, which was fun. But I was able to make him understand my symptoms. The official diagnosis was acute gastroenteritis, and he decided that I needed an IV (with a drug of nausea and something else), which was lots of fun because I have horrible veins. The nurse tried a vein in my left hand first, and my vein collapsed so that was painful. Then I remembered that I have a decent (for me) vein on the side of my right hand, so that's what he ended up using. In the middle of the treatment, I managed to accidentally knock the IV loose, so the meds were squirting everywhere and blood was squirting everywhere, and the nurse was like, "I told you to be careful!" And I barely moved! But in the end, it all worked out and I left the clinic with bandages on both of my wrists - to which my Italian roommate said, "it looks like you don't like life!"

I am feeling a little better already and will hopefully continue to improve. Perhaps there will be hummus and falafel again in my future!

Bomb Shelters, Long Walks and Crazy Things

When I was in junior high, we used to joke about the fact that the school had a bomb shelter. For some reason, we thought that was so ridiculous, as if the Cold War was ancient history and our school was so outdated. But here I am, so many years later, literally living in a bomb shelter. That's right. My bedroom doubles as the apartment's bomb shelter, which means that in additional to the regular door, there is a solid steel "blast" door and that in addition to the steel shutters, my window has a solid steel cover. And while we occasionally laugh about the bomb shelters, the fact of the matter is, they are a part of everyday life in Israel. Every public building I have been in has at least one bomb shelter, normally well marked. Even if nothing else in the building is in English, you can be sure the sign(s) for the bomb shelter(s) is.

And the bomb shelters are just one aspect of my everyday reality that is so foreign to how life is "in the States" (you can tell I'm living abroad, when I no longer refer to it as the US or America). The campus and the various dorms (both the kfar, where the international students live, and the dorms for the Israeli students) are all enclosed by gates; one cannot enter without showing a student ID. Once on campus, I have to go through a metal detector and hand my bag over to be inspected. Even a lot of stores in the area require you to show them the contents of your bag before you enter, and every place has some sort of "guard" at the door with a metal detector wand. Random soldiers carrying machine guns are a normal part of my day. And every trip I go on - whether it was the weekend retreat or my bi-weekly archaeology tours - includes an armed guard.

Honestly, all these extra security measures don't make me feel unsafe - nor do they make me feel more safe. I think I just accept them as how life is. Last Shabbat, my friend Kristin and I walked from the German Colony back to the kfar (about 4-5 miles) after synagogue, around 6:30pm, after it was already dark. I never really felt unsafe on the entire walk; in fact, I faced more problems doing the "country club walk" back at Witt with Allie and Keeley. Yet when I tell people here that we walked across Jerusalem, after dark, like that, their reaction is always the same: "You did what?!" followed by "Were you safe?" Back home, I have friends who will go running at 8 or 9pm and no one questions their sanity or their safety. But here, there is the assumption that a nighttime stroll may land you in the hospital - or worse. Why? Because I am living more or less on the Israeli-Palestinian "fault line"? It's not like violence is a normal everyday part of life over here. Yes, I am concerned about what will happen if the peace talks don't resume - and even at the potentiality that a solution will be agreed upon (although the likelihood of that happening while I am here is slim) - but that does not mean that I am constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid someone is going to pull a gun on me.

Is there a possibility that I may become the victim of a terrorist attack? Absolutely. But if I stayed back home, there probably would be just as much chance (if not more) that I would be involved in some horrendous car accident or the like. I can't live my life afraid of what might happen. My passion is the Hebrew Bible, and that means I have to spend time in Israel. Of course, I can name Hebrew Bible scholars who have never been to Israel, and I could probably have a fairly successful career without every having set foot in Israel, but I would not be true to myself nor my understanding of scholarship. I have no desire to live in Israel on a permanent basis, but I do believe that an important part of biblical scholarship involves spending time in the land, and so here I am. People's passions make them do crazy, sometimes even dangerous things, and they do them without thinking twice because to them it is worth it, no matter what the cost. And that is what Israel is for me.

Food Matters

I have been living in Israel for over a month now, and one of the interesting things about living in any foreign country is the food situation. I can easily spend an hour at the store just picking up a handful of items because the labels are in Hebrew, not English (and when they are in English, they are imported and therefore cost twice as much). And to make matters more difficult, our kitchen consists of a sink, a stove top, two counter tops and a refrigerator. No oven, no microwave. My diet consists mainly of pita, hummus, yogurt, apples, crackers, Israeli-brand nutella, sandwiches from the Rothberg cafe, falafel and the occasional pastry. I recently discovered the wonders of adding carrots to my pita and hummus, and this past week I picked up a real luxury: peanut butter. Another thing I really enjoy but probably shouldn't admit ischallah, which is a special type of bread that is used during Shabbat for kiddush (from which Christian Eucharist is derived). Bakeries only sell challah on Fridays, so I'm guessing it is not intended for regular consumption throughout the week, but the past couple of weeks I have bought a challah on Friday, for myself and not for Shabbat dinner. (I also have not been to aShabbat dinner the past couple of weeks, so I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy challahthere.)

Another interesting thing about Israeli cuisine, when one is not preparing one's own food: most food establishments are kosher and therefore are either "meat" or "milk." This is derived from a rather obscure verse about not boiling a kid in its mother's milk (Exodus 23:19). As a result, places either serve dairy products or meat products; both can serve fruit, vegetables, fish, etc (foods that are considered parve, neither "meat" not "milk"). Most cafes and cafeterias on campus are "milk," which is why the sandwiches I eat are tuna or egg and cheese. Meat, in general, is more expensive here because it is kosher. (Actually, I have found that food in general is more expensive here than in Ohio, although the falafel stand is quite cheap [$3-$4] and the sandwiches on campus are generally as cheap or cheaper than making my own.)

Since I am apparently dedicating this entry to the subject of food, I will add that I have acquired a taste for "Camomile & Honey" tea this past week. (I put it in quotes because that is how it is spelled on the package, instead of chamomile) Due to the rather abrupt drop in temperature (almost 20 degrees practically over night), my body revolted and I spent several days dealing with lightheadedness (the joys of living with vasal vagal). I have never liked chamomile tea, but I know it is good if you aren't feeling well (and it was one of the few teas that the school cafe sells that I recognized) so I ended up buying a few cups of it (and then going to the store to buy a few boxes of it, to save money) and after a dozen or so cups of it, I think I might actually like it. Or at least I no longer have to add two packets of sugar and two packets of sweetener to it in order to drink it.

And with that, I shall return to my studying. Shabbat shalom!