Here in Jerusalem, we live for the weekends. All week long, we go to class, do homework, go on siyyurim (field trips) and study. Then the weekend comes and we finally have a chance to escape from our hostel and see Israel on our own.

We plan all week for our weekend excursions, reserving hostels, buying train tickets, booking tours, saving our money and finally–come Thursday afternoon–we are free. The past two weekends, though, I have booked zero hostels, spent no money, and gone on no tours and still managed to have two of my most memorable Year Course weekends to date.

Two weeks ago, three of my friends and I found ourselves spending Shabbat with (what was to us) one of the most religiously observant families in Jerusalem in the most observant neighborhood, Mea She'arim. I grew up in a Conservative Jewish household and I had never actually kept a full Shabbat, but after that weekend I can definitely say I got my fill.

Thursday came, and sporting our long skirts and sweaters, we made our way over to Rav Miller and his family's house. After arriving, we met their 10 children. Less than a minute later there was another knock on the door, and their daughter opened it to reveal six more girls who were also staying there for the weekend from a nearby seminary. So for those of you keeping track at home, there was me and my friends (that's four) the other six girls, their 10 kids, and Rav Miller and his wife. That's 22 people, but that's just the beginning.

As we began to sit down for Shabbat dinner, another 12 people joined us. That's 35 people over for a single Shabbat meal. After much reading of psalms, praying, eating and benching (praying after the meal), we went to the local synagogue for a tish, a Hasidic gathering around a table with the head rabbi, or rebbe, complete with prayer, refreshments, and song-singing. It took place at one of the largest synagogues I have ever been to in my life.

For us, it felt much more like we were watching a sporting event than sitting in on songs after dinner. We were in "the nose-bleed" section of the huge hall where it was taking place. When we and the other women looked down through the small holes in the mechitzah (a partition separating men from women) that ran from the ceiling, we could see bleachers filled with men all in the same uniform of round fur hats, black silk coats, and peyot (curls) that went past their shoulders. They sat surrounding a long table with the rabbi at the head of the table, and they sang slowly and solemnly.

We could barely believe that at this same time the week before, we were bar-hopping in Haifa. As the weekend went on, we continued to experience Shabbat the Millers' way. It was something none of us had ever done before, and I will never forget it, but come Saturday evening when they flipped the lights on, we were overjoyed to leave and return to our home at the hostel.

This past weekend, I got to experience Shabbat again yet another way, with a Shabbat B'yachad, Shabbat Together, with everyone in my Year Course section. We were bussed outside of Jerusalem for a weekend of singing, talking, swimming and poker tournaments. On Saturday night we also had a tish, but this time it was the polar opposite of last week, complete with stories and Young Judea songs, which are surprisingly growing on me. It was a great opportunity to spend time with friends and get to know people I hadn't met yet. It was nice to do this before we split up next month for Israeli Experience, where we will be scattered across the country volunteering.

Each Saturday after returning from the weekend's adventures, we are greeted with a whole new week of late nights on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem, early mornings in Ivrit and plenty of programs and homework in-between. It's a hectic life, but I'm only on Year Course once, so I'll bite the bullet and drag my sleeping body to class tomorrow, and come Thursday, there will be a whole new weekend ahead of me.