How different things were back when I did my year. We were lucky to use the phone twice a week, only saw newspapers on shabbos or in town, and generally were kept completely in the dark about world events. I often found out about noteworthy things that had happened in Jerusaelm only after a letter from my mother containing news clippings arrived. Now a yeshiva boy with a data plan can see same-day sports highlights, and judging from the yeshivish Twitter activity, no one in the hanhala knows or cares.
I feel so old.
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