Good pre-Shabbos, fellow Jews. I've been meaning to write this blog entry for the entire week, but somehow the time got away from me. It has a way of doing that, ya know??
Anyway, if you are a faithful reader (ahem) and recall, a little while back I posted a blog entry about my saga of getting to a shiur given by Rav Arush, and how I was successful only through the help of what I recognized as divine intervention. I concluded that it proved what I had learned, that if you really want to do a mitzvah, G-d will make sure that you get the opportunity to do so.
Lo and behold, it was proven to me again this past week. I was getting off the bus and saw that someone had left their תיק (knapsack) at the stop. Ah, the perfect opportunity to do the mitzvah of השבת אבדה (returning lost items to their rightful owners)!
Alas, it was not to be. As I unzipped the knapsack to find some sort of identification, the bus driver screamed at me to get away from it. Bus driver screaming?? Big surprise there! Actually, he was within his rights, since I had completely forgotten that it might be a חפץ חשוד - a bomb risk. (Such is the reality of living in the Middle East with your enemies surrounding you). Naturally I backed off, and the kid who actually owned the knapsack came running back a minute later.
Okay, I thought, at least I tried to do the mitzvah. Well, the next day I was sitting all by my lonesome at another random bus stop, when this Russian lady came by and started talking to me about a bank card she had found on the sidewalk right near the King David Hotel. She told me she didn't speak Hebrew very well, so would I mind handling the returning of the card to its rightful owner?
Heck yes, I would be happy to! And I did, and got to do the mitzvah of having the bank inform Yuri Mikalov (or some similar name) that his bank card was found.
Never once did the thought to go on a spending spree in at all the most fabulous shops in Dubai cross my mind. Not once! Okay, maybe once. Har har.
In any case, I got to do my mitzvah. Which was really nice. Then I went home and rewarded myself with a rugelach. Which was also really nice (although not entirely unexpected).
Shabbat shalom everyone!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
KumKums!!!
Yo, hot diggity dawgs! I am recovering nicely from the post-Yom Ha'atzmaut BBQ Bonanza, you will be happy to hear.
Plus, thank you to my friend Joel for posting this most amazing link on Facebook- this comedian writes his 62 favorite things about Israel (plus you can go to links that include even more faves from previous years).
One of the things I absolutely love about this dude is that he keeps harping on his love for kumkums - electric kettles (reason #5 in 2009 and #9 in 2008). I, too, am absolutely obsessed with them! They warm up your water in about 20 seconds, max, and I, too, can't understand how Americans and the rest of the greater enlightened world have existed without them thus far. (I mean, I'm sure the isolated house or 12 in Ireland or New Jersey has one, but you won't find them in every kitchen (and break room, dorm, hotel - need I go on?) the way you will here.
Plus, saying 'kumkum' is just too cute.
I hope that you'll consider getting your own kumkum after reading this. Just think, in the blink of an eye, you can make instant:
- Coffee
- Oatmeal
- Tea
- Hot water with lemon (har)
- And endless other tantalizing possibilities...
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
תקס on 15.04.2010 at 20:00
Good day!
I was walking home yesterday on Rochel Imeinu, the main road that leads from the German Colony to my home in Katamon. In passing, I glanced at a sign on a bus shelter and quickly assimilated the following information:
תקס ליום הזכרון
15.04.2010, 20:00
רחוב הפלמח
It was then I knew:
I am well on my way to becoming a full fledged Israeli.
Q. How did I know this?
A. Because such a sign would have baffled me just a few short months ago. I knew what יום הזכרון was - Israel's National Memorial Day for the Fallen and the Victims of Terror.
But I never would have known that:
- תקס = Ceremony
- 15.04.2010 = April 15, 2010
- 20:00 = 8:00pm
- Where the heck רחוב הפלמח (Palmach Road) is. Answer: In the Katamon neighborhood, a street away from my house
So I'm really coming along! I'm glad to see it since I feared, deep in my heart, that I could never hope to master the European metric system, military time or Israeli keyboard (all equally inexplicable and terrifying).
Can I get a what what??
In honor of all those died sacrificing themselves for the nation of Israel
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Can't brag (as much), Can do the wash
עוף*Hello, dear readers. I started this entry right before the picture in my hallway crashed to the ground (as enumerated upon in the previous few entries). Having properly processed the latter incident - with thanks to Leora S. for her assistance - I am ready to move on. And so...
Yo! Thank Heavens above, I just got a new microwave and am all set to properly nuke food (and hopefully not give myself some mysterious radiation-type disease in the process).
As I gently put my sweet potatoe in for a thorough tanning session (must employ euphemism so sweet potatoe does not run away in fit of fear), it momentarily perplexed me that all of the microwave commands were in Hebrew. I was all: "How am I supposed to know how to use the dang thing??"
Then I remembered that I do, in fact, know Hebrew and figured it out. And I had a lovely, if a little shriveled, yam.
On the topic of electronics, since I moved into my apartment 1.5 months ago, I've proudly saved money by doing without certain appliances, which include a TV, radio, toaster, washing machine and dryer (alot of people have washer/dryers here, as opposed to Manhattan, where having this combo in your apartment is akin to finding the Holy Grail). I continually bragged to any trapped soul about being so monk-like in denying myself these 'American' pleasures, which I explained are not really necessities to a dyed-in-the-wool Israeli like me (heh). Never-you-mind that I'm not exactly living in a Unabomber-type shack in some (hopefully enchanted) forest.
In any case, I finally broke down and got the above described microwave as well as a washing machine since I think they really are necessities - I mean, am I going to use a frying pan/oven to heat things up for an hour when I can healthfully nuke them in 15 seconds? And since time is money, am I going to clean my clothes at a laundromat every bleeding time I run out of socks when washing machines here are decently priced (and I even got a more environmentally oriented, and therefore fiscally prudent, model)?
I did hold off on all of the other electronics I named, including a TV (which this socialist republic taxes - I'm sure Obama would approve). My dad, who cannot fall asleep without the TV on, is probably in the process of disowning me (chas v'shalom!). For a while I thought I would go all hard core and stop watching any sort of programming, but then I came to the realization (with the help of the voices in my head that I began to hear) that the silence in my apartment was so deafening that this had to stop. Luckily there is a glorious thing called "The Internet". Perhaps you've heard of it? I can basically download all the shows and movies I want to see, for free. Nevermind that it involves my lying in bed with a laptop, and that the movies often stop at the most critical moment because of some sort of issue. It (basically) works for me!
And let me tell you, there is nothing like waking up in the morning with a laptop on your stomach.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Addendum: Great Crash (not of 1929)
To continue with the saga of the Great Piture Smash of 2010: After I spent some time feeling sorry for myself and cleaned up the glass, I had a little time to think things over. I also spoke to a wise friend or two. It's all about how you look at things, so I'm going to take this as a good sign - since my home is now complete, glass smashing is a 'mazal tov'!
So may I conclude: Thank you G-d, for causing my picture to fall and showing me that I am embarking on a successful path!
In that spirit, I wish you all tons of hatzlacha and happiness on the eve of Pesach, our Festival of Freedom. May the personal chains that bind you be broken and may your spirit be free to soar. Seize the day and do what you love!
xoxoxoxo
So may I conclude: Thank you G-d, for causing my picture to fall and showing me that I am embarking on a successful path!
In that spirit, I wish you all tons of hatzlacha and happiness on the eve of Pesach, our Festival of Freedom. May the personal chains that bind you be broken and may your spirit be free to soar. Seize the day and do what you love!
xoxoxoxo
7 Years of Bad Luck????
So here I was, waltzing around all delighted that my apartment had finally come together. In the past few days, I bought a microwave and washing machine, and today I had a really nice picture put up on the long expanse of empty wall in my entry hallway.
All that's left to do is groom the garden, and that will be taken care of post-Pesach.
I was finally relaxing. The long and bitter odyssey of decorating the huge, empty expanse of my apartment appeared to be over - I had this actual thought ten minutes ago.
That all came literally CRASHING down. As I sat here typing up a blog entry for your enjoyment (about the fascinating topic of nuking a sweet potatoe in my new microwave - more on that to come in the next entry), suddenly I heard a great noise. I wondered if one of the light fixtures had fallen off and broken??
I rushed out to the hall and guess what?? My brand new picture (not a Van Gogh but I tagged this entry as such for sh*ts and giggles), that had been put up just hours ago, had fallen off the wall, taking the nails with it, and all the glass had broken into huge shards on the floor.
And there it currently sits. I just don't have the coy-ach (strength, as we say in Yiddish) to deal with the mess now.
And honestly, I'm upset. It's like the Heavens sent me a message: Don't get too comfortable.
To which I answer: Why not?? What is so wrong about wanting to have a sanctuary in the middle of a new, foreign, busy as heck city??
And does this mean that I am being punished for something?? I hate to go that route but I can't help but think that way. When dramatic things like this happen it's important to sit up and listen.
I need to go back and review my conduct over the past while - perhaps this is atoning for something. At least I wasn't under the picture when this happened.
Oy, all I can say is whatever. The gallery owner is coming to get the painting in order to fix it, since he was the one that put it up in the first place. I guess I'll have to sweep up the fricking glass. I just don't feel like doing it right now. Let my 7 years of bad luck sit on the floor for a while and think about what it did.
All that's left to do is groom the garden, and that will be taken care of post-Pesach.
I was finally relaxing. The long and bitter odyssey of decorating the huge, empty expanse of my apartment appeared to be over - I had this actual thought ten minutes ago.
That all came literally CRASHING down. As I sat here typing up a blog entry for your enjoyment (about the fascinating topic of nuking a sweet potatoe in my new microwave - more on that to come in the next entry), suddenly I heard a great noise. I wondered if one of the light fixtures had fallen off and broken??
I rushed out to the hall and guess what?? My brand new picture (not a Van Gogh but I tagged this entry as such for sh*ts and giggles), that had been put up just hours ago, had fallen off the wall, taking the nails with it, and all the glass had broken into huge shards on the floor.
And there it currently sits. I just don't have the coy-ach (strength, as we say in Yiddish) to deal with the mess now.
And honestly, I'm upset. It's like the Heavens sent me a message: Don't get too comfortable.
To which I answer: Why not?? What is so wrong about wanting to have a sanctuary in the middle of a new, foreign, busy as heck city??
And does this mean that I am being punished for something?? I hate to go that route but I can't help but think that way. When dramatic things like this happen it's important to sit up and listen.
I need to go back and review my conduct over the past while - perhaps this is atoning for something. At least I wasn't under the picture when this happened.
Oy, all I can say is whatever. The gallery owner is coming to get the painting in order to fix it, since he was the one that put it up in the first place. I guess I'll have to sweep up the fricking glass. I just don't feel like doing it right now. Let my 7 years of bad luck sit on the floor for a while and think about what it did.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
To-Do: Do not freak out over To-Do List
Let me start by saying that I know I am not alone in creating a prison - כלא - of my own making.
How dramatic. What that means in plain English (or Heiblish) is that I know I'm not the only one who creates endless, insurmountable to-do lists. I do believe a whole genre (or should I say section in Barnes & Noble) of self-help books addresses this issue, at least in overscheduled America. And I've read a few chapters on this myself, with the central message being that one cannot expect to get everything on the list done in one day, so the healthiest thing to do is just be happy with the one major task, or few minor tasks, that you're able to cross off each day.
To which I say: HA!! Do they know what's involved in the life of an Olah Chadasha?? I'll allow you to sneak a peek at my current, endlessly updated list, and then tell me if you could be all zen about it:
*Call washing machine tech for installation (decide if machine should go on porch or in bathroom)
*Have same tech measure microwave area to ensure it will fit microwave; if not, haul microwave back to store in back of friend's car
*Supplicate self to friend with car if necessary as above
*Call Citibank on local American line
*Call Ikea Dude (guy who is returning items I don't want to Ikea for a fee) on local Israeli line
*Call friends A, B & C on cell (Try to wiggle out of calls as fast as possible - hate phones!! Har Har)
*Buy bottle of wine for Shabbat lunch at friend who cooks like gourmand
*Buy pots and pans so can learn to cook like gourmand
*Buy new, צנוע dresses for Pesach as cap sleeved frocks inappropriate
*Wear sunscreen on arms so as not to freckle in insanely hot Middle Eastern sun
*Go running (For real this time! Snooze button is not an option!)
*Learn Israeli culture so do not freak out each time cultural norm is breached (every 5 minutes)
*Get more Crest White Strips so can begin to fix damage incurred by 3 daily cappucinos (Decided that tooth color was a sacrifice I was willing to make in lieu of delicious java)
*Go on YouTube and attempt to watch latest episode of Gossip Girl in five separate parts (likely will see parts 1, 3 & 5). Dream about Chuck Bass for minimum of 10 minutes.
*Read "Bridget Jones's Diary" for the 27th time (literally) since arrived in Holy Land
*Begin saving money - specifically in each of the following 3 jars on my kitchen countertop: Shoe Fund; Beer Money; Girl's Night Out
*Update to-do list
You see what I mean???? Thus far today, I've put my nose to the grindstone (ow) and checked off the YouTube and Bridget Jones items. And I should add "Eat bakery item" to the list since I know I will successfully accomplish that today.
Please chime in - I would love to hear your comments about your personal to-do lists. Happy Pesach (cleaning)!
How dramatic. What that means in plain English (or Heiblish) is that I know I'm not the only one who creates endless, insurmountable to-do lists. I do believe a whole genre (or should I say section in Barnes & Noble) of self-help books addresses this issue, at least in overscheduled America. And I've read a few chapters on this myself, with the central message being that one cannot expect to get everything on the list done in one day, so the healthiest thing to do is just be happy with the one major task, or few minor tasks, that you're able to cross off each day.
To which I say: HA!! Do they know what's involved in the life of an Olah Chadasha?? I'll allow you to sneak a peek at my current, endlessly updated list, and then tell me if you could be all zen about it:
*Call washing machine tech for installation (decide if machine should go on porch or in bathroom)
*Have same tech measure microwave area to ensure it will fit microwave; if not, haul microwave back to store in back of friend's car
*Supplicate self to friend with car if necessary as above
*Call Citibank on local American line
*Call Ikea Dude (guy who is returning items I don't want to Ikea for a fee) on local Israeli line
*Call friends A, B & C on cell (Try to wiggle out of calls as fast as possible - hate phones!! Har Har)
*Buy bottle of wine for Shabbat lunch at friend who cooks like gourmand
*Buy pots and pans so can learn to cook like gourmand
*Buy new, צנוע dresses for Pesach as cap sleeved frocks inappropriate
*Wear sunscreen on arms so as not to freckle in insanely hot Middle Eastern sun
*Go running (For real this time! Snooze button is not an option!)
*Learn Israeli culture so do not freak out each time cultural norm is breached (every 5 minutes)
*Get more Crest White Strips so can begin to fix damage incurred by 3 daily cappucinos (Decided that tooth color was a sacrifice I was willing to make in lieu of delicious java)
*Go on YouTube and attempt to watch latest episode of Gossip Girl in five separate parts (likely will see parts 1, 3 & 5). Dream about Chuck Bass for minimum of 10 minutes.
*Read "Bridget Jones's Diary" for the 27th time (literally) since arrived in Holy Land
*Begin saving money - specifically in each of the following 3 jars on my kitchen countertop: Shoe Fund; Beer Money; Girl's Night Out
*Update to-do list
You see what I mean???? Thus far today, I've put my nose to the grindstone (ow) and checked off the YouTube and Bridget Jones items. And I should add "Eat bakery item" to the list since I know I will successfully accomplish that today.
Please chime in - I would love to hear your comments about your personal to-do lists. Happy Pesach (cleaning)!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Must...Hang...With...Anglos
No need for hello - I'm so tired that this is going to be quick and dirty.
So before I made aliyah I vowed I would not be one of those people that stays in the 'Anglo bubble' and only associates with fellow Anglos (i.e. Americans, Brits, South Africans, 'ya get the scenario).
I have been true to that vow, so much so that I have surrounded myself with Israelis and have not seen my Anglo friends since Purim.
Last night I hit my breaking point when I ran into some of my good old Australian/American/British pals - and spent the majority of the later hours of the evening exclaiming, "Ahhhhh!!! It's so good to be among my people!!! I love Anglos!!!"
So I'm going to be hanging with them for a while.
And reveling in all things Anglo - such as the language, shared cultural understanding and defined male/female roles.
And that's all I have to say about that.
So before I made aliyah I vowed I would not be one of those people that stays in the 'Anglo bubble' and only associates with fellow Anglos (i.e. Americans, Brits, South Africans, 'ya get the scenario).
I have been true to that vow, so much so that I have surrounded myself with Israelis and have not seen my Anglo friends since Purim.
Last night I hit my breaking point when I ran into some of my good old Australian/American/British pals - and spent the majority of the later hours of the evening exclaiming, "Ahhhhh!!! It's so good to be among my people!!! I love Anglos!!!"
So I'm going to be hanging with them for a while.
And reveling in all things Anglo - such as the language, shared cultural understanding and defined male/female roles.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK....With a List
Hello friends, countrymen, bank clerks and taxi drivers.
I am finally back.
It has been EONS since I last posted and although I know you have been devastated, no one has felt the absence of my blogging more keenly than I.
I have so wanted to post my observations, anecdotes and brilliant ideas on a regular basis. In fact, I have thought about nothing else (except cute boys, food, the great weather, buying furniture, Pesach and remembering to call George, my electrician who hails from Cypress and usually needs to do a service call at the reasonable hour of 7am). Nothing else.
However, I was derailed for over a month by:
What's that? You don't recognize those letters? Why, they're Hebrew! And being the crafty girl that I am, I inserted them in an ever-so-blase manner. Yes, I finally overcame my mental block and have begun the long, bitter struggle to learn to type in Hebrew. (And that Hebrew word means 'absent' if you didn't know.)
Okay, enough of this showy display of re-introducing myself! On to the real stuff!
Well, there's no better way to say this but to be blunt: The party's over, people. I am way off my aliyah high and am in the thick of the daily drudgery of acclimating to the Middle Eastern culture, as well as my new apartment, friends, job and the change in fashion (about which one can never say enough times: "Horrors!").
Yes, I've visited Israel many times before and know the language but let me tell you, it is NOTHING like living here. I must admit that I've burst into tears a number of times. Don't worry, I'm okay. It's all part of it, which I know and so I've been told.
Still, I'm going to give you the harsh reality: It's not easy at all. But nothing easy is ever worth doing, right? (Or so we've been lied to our whole lives, ha ha.)
In any case, I am committed to living here for the long haul, so I am just getting on with it and taking it day-by-day (or "l'aat l'aat" as they say here - it's too much work to type that in Hebrew). But blogging can be a wonderful outlet for feelings. So to give you a full picture of what's been going on, here is a conservatively numbered list of things about Israeli culture that I am not, shall we say, wild about.
*Please note: If you consider this complaining - don't read it! (This disclaimer is quite demonstrative of my acculturation to Israeli norms - I am now incredibly blunt.)
ANYHOO:
Random Things That Do Not Cause Me To Burst Into Song & See Rainbows:
1. Customer service is non-existent: The customer is always wrong. The way I see it, you just need to learn the simple fact that if you ask for assistance from someone who is being paid to help you (and not to converse with their co-workers, drink coffee, talk on the phone or do their nails - to name a few activities), their automatic answer will be LO! NO! (It's just a shift in the way of thinking really - the 'no' stands in for the 'yes' you would get elsewhere.)
2. Less Boundaries: Sample conversation:
Random person (RP): "How much is your rent?"
Me: (laughs nervously): "Oh, enough."
RP: "So nu, how much is it?"
Me: "It's what it should cost, given the size and neighborhood."
RP: "SO???? WHAT IS IT???"
Me: (runs away)
(Okay, I exaggerated. But only slightly.)
3. Bizarre apartment norms: Appliances such as refrigerators and stoves are not automatically included in rentals. You have to be lucky to get them as part of the lease. (I did.) Otherwise, you will have a gaping hole where the stuff you normally expect to be there...is not.
4. Beauty school dropouts: The beauty industry in this country is scary. My eyebrows have been made into straight lines, my hair bleached Donatella Versace blond and I have been inspired to buy shiny, Pepto pink nail polish.
5. Bizarre shish kebab: Just the thought of eating kidneys on a skewer makes me sick. But thanks for offering.
Okay, enough complaining. I'm going to take a nap. I'll wake up on the right side of the bed, don't worry. Until then, mon amies...
I am finally back.
It has been EONS since I last posted and although I know you have been devastated, no one has felt the absence of my blogging more keenly than I.
I have so wanted to post my observations, anecdotes and brilliant ideas on a regular basis. In fact, I have thought about nothing else (except cute boys, food, the great weather, buying furniture, Pesach and remembering to call George, my electrician who hails from Cypress and usually needs to do a service call at the reasonable hour of 7am). Nothing else.
However, I was derailed for over a month by:
- My move to a beautiful but completely empty apartment;
- Starting full-time work and balancing that with ulpan; and
- Of course, a girl needs to eat.
What's that? You don't recognize those letters? Why, they're Hebrew! And being the crafty girl that I am, I inserted them in an ever-so-blase manner. Yes, I finally overcame my mental block and have begun the long, bitter struggle to learn to type in Hebrew. (And that Hebrew word means 'absent' if you didn't know.)
Okay, enough of this showy display of re-introducing myself! On to the real stuff!
Well, there's no better way to say this but to be blunt: The party's over, people. I am way off my aliyah high and am in the thick of the daily drudgery of acclimating to the Middle Eastern culture, as well as my new apartment, friends, job and the change in fashion (about which one can never say enough times: "Horrors!").
Yes, I've visited Israel many times before and know the language but let me tell you, it is NOTHING like living here. I must admit that I've burst into tears a number of times. Don't worry, I'm okay. It's all part of it, which I know and so I've been told.
Still, I'm going to give you the harsh reality: It's not easy at all. But nothing easy is ever worth doing, right? (Or so we've been lied to our whole lives, ha ha.)
In any case, I am committed to living here for the long haul, so I am just getting on with it and taking it day-by-day (or "l'aat l'aat" as they say here - it's too much work to type that in Hebrew). But blogging can be a wonderful outlet for feelings. So to give you a full picture of what's been going on, here is a conservatively numbered list of things about Israeli culture that I am not, shall we say, wild about.
*Please note: If you consider this complaining - don't read it! (This disclaimer is quite demonstrative of my acculturation to Israeli norms - I am now incredibly blunt.)
ANYHOO:
Random Things That Do Not Cause Me To Burst Into Song & See Rainbows:
1. Customer service is non-existent: The customer is always wrong. The way I see it, you just need to learn the simple fact that if you ask for assistance from someone who is being paid to help you (and not to converse with their co-workers, drink coffee, talk on the phone or do their nails - to name a few activities), their automatic answer will be LO! NO! (It's just a shift in the way of thinking really - the 'no' stands in for the 'yes' you would get elsewhere.)
2. Less Boundaries: Sample conversation:
Random person (RP): "How much is your rent?"
Me: (laughs nervously): "Oh, enough."
RP: "So nu, how much is it?"
Me: "It's what it should cost, given the size and neighborhood."
RP: "SO???? WHAT IS IT???"
Me: (runs away)
(Okay, I exaggerated. But only slightly.)
3. Bizarre apartment norms: Appliances such as refrigerators and stoves are not automatically included in rentals. You have to be lucky to get them as part of the lease. (I did.) Otherwise, you will have a gaping hole where the stuff you normally expect to be there...is not.
4. Beauty school dropouts: The beauty industry in this country is scary. My eyebrows have been made into straight lines, my hair bleached Donatella Versace blond and I have been inspired to buy shiny, Pepto pink nail polish.
5. Bizarre shish kebab: Just the thought of eating kidneys on a skewer makes me sick. But thanks for offering.
Okay, enough complaining. I'm going to take a nap. I'll wake up on the right side of the bed, don't worry. Until then, mon amies...
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Got to Get Myself Back to the Garden
Brace yourselves, people, I'm writing a fairly serious entry...
So! I've been going on and on about the garden in my new apartment, when G-d had an entirely different garden in mind for me.
About a year ago I obtained a copy of "The Garden of Emunah" by Rabbi Shalom Arush, and my life has never been the same. We've all heard the conventional Jewish wisdom that 'everything is meant to be' and 'we must have faith' but it's really hard to internalize at times. I, particularly, am very high energy and my mind is constantly whirring around, exploring a million different possibilities for every action that I and those around me take. Having been "Me" (or as I call myself at times, "Moi") for so long, I know it's very important that I stop myself often and focus on my intention to be relaxed and believe that everything will work out for the best.
I do stop myself whenever I remember to, but it's not enough. I know that life would be alot easier if I could just r-e-l-a-x, especially now that I've made aliyah.
Which is where "The Garden of Emunah" comes in. The book says alot of the things that I have heard before, but is written in such a plain and true way that it really speaks to me. Some of its main lessons include:
So! I've been going on and on about the garden in my new apartment, when G-d had an entirely different garden in mind for me.
About a year ago I obtained a copy of "The Garden of Emunah" by Rabbi Shalom Arush, and my life has never been the same. We've all heard the conventional Jewish wisdom that 'everything is meant to be' and 'we must have faith' but it's really hard to internalize at times. I, particularly, am very high energy and my mind is constantly whirring around, exploring a million different possibilities for every action that I and those around me take. Having been "Me" (or as I call myself at times, "Moi") for so long, I know it's very important that I stop myself often and focus on my intention to be relaxed and believe that everything will work out for the best.
I do stop myself whenever I remember to, but it's not enough. I know that life would be alot easier if I could just r-e-l-a-x, especially now that I've made aliyah.
Which is where "The Garden of Emunah" comes in. The book says alot of the things that I have heard before, but is written in such a plain and true way that it really speaks to me. Some of its main lessons include:
- Wherever you are at every minute is exactly where you are meant to be (so there is no use wishing you had taken another course). Don't beat yourself up for your actions (unless you, G-d forbid, murdered someone or stole their salami sandwich).
- Everything happens for a reason. It might become clear to us one day, or it might not, but every single thing in our lives, from the biggest events (bar mitzvah shmorg) to the minutiae (the menu saying 'spork' instead of 'fork' - stuff like this happens often in Israel) is predetermined and helps put the world in balance.
- We must thank G-d for everything that happens to us, whether good or bad, and try to listen to the message each event is passing on to us, which will help us fulfill our mission in this world.
I know this is heavy stuff and not for everyone, but it really spoke to me. I first read it when I was in Miami, taking a break from everyday life and trying to figure out my next step. What I learned really gave me license to stop worrying that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time - since G-d is pulling the strings behind the stage. I truly believe that these lessons are part of the reason I was finally able to make aliyah (having wanted it for so long).
Imagine my delight when I passed a poster on a random wall near my sublet (there are many of these, all advertising weddings/funerals/various religious gatherings), which screamed out in fluorescent green that the author of the book himself, Rabbi Arush, was going to be speaking in Jerusalem this week.
!!!!!!!
Of course I made it my business to go. Even though I wavered a little bit on the actual night, since I was so tired, I pushed myself out the door. I really had no idea of the location of the Yeshiva in which he was speaking, but I thought I'd figure it out.
Having dilly-dallied getting ready, I was pressed for time. I hopped on a bus and the nice (!) bus driver and another passenger helped me figure out where the random street was. It seemed to be a long ways off.
I was determined though - so I started walking. I noticed that it was getting late and the thought that I would miss hearing the Rabbi speak really upset me, but I figured I still might catch part of the speech.
I also thought about something I had learned - that if you have a pure intention to do something truly good, G-d will make it happen.
And it did!! As I was hoofing it down the road, wondering when I would ever get there, a random cab driver called out to me and asked where I was going. I told him I didn't want to pay him but he responded that he would take me for free.
Turns out, he had a passenger to pick up on the exact same street as my destination. In fact, the little old lady waiting outside for the driver (who seemed rather surprised to see me sitting in the back seat, I might add) lived three houses down from exactly where I needed to go.
I felt like G-d had arranged a free ride for me.
And I had not missed the Rabbi after all! I enjoyed his speech but the main thing was actually seeing him in person. I had to keep pinching myself that I actually was in Israel, in Jerusalem, listening to the man behind a body of work that had so inspired me.
After the speech was over, I went outside to see if I could procure a hasty brocha (blessing) from the Rabbi. Despite his being surrounded by anxious hordes of people, I managed to ask him for a blessing and told him that I had just made aliyah. He shouted joyfully - that's the only way to describe it - and gave me a beautiful brocha indeed.
So last night was a pretty momentous night for me.
Despite worry and anxiety, it's clear to me that there is a plan and I'm being guided down a specific path.
And I'm not telling you this to brag about my luck (nyah nyah nyah), but rather to tell you that I think there is a plan for all of us. Even if you're not a particularly spiritual person or don't believe at all, it's comforting to know that events like this do happen and there is (or maybe for you, might seem to be) a power in the universe that cares about each and every one of us.
In any case, it gave me a good feeling about my future. (I don't know if this future will involve continuous free taxi rides. That would be such a plus.)
I wish all of you inner peace and happiness.
And now - having said my lengthy piece - it's back to everyday priorities. Off to forage in the kitchen.
Monday, February 8, 2010
One Apartment, Coming Right Up!
The dreaded apartment hunt is finally over! Yes, comrades, as trumpeted on Facebook, I have signed the lease on an apartment in Katamon and have my own place. Finally!!
This is a huge relief since I have been living out of suitcases for 2.5 months now. I've gotten used to being flexible but I can't wait to have a place all my own. Right now, my new apartment is light-filled, lovely and completely empty.
That's right, there is not a stick of furniture to be found in the place. Aside from the refrigerator and stove, which are not to be taken for granted in Israel (since they are not always included in a rental). I have a huge list of things I need to buy, and first up, is....a vanity table complete with poufy chair!!
Ha ha, just kidding, it's a bed. I mean, what would I do otherwise, sleep on top of my overstuffed duffle bag? Hmm, I could always sleep in my refrigerator...No darlings, I need a serious bed, with a headboard, box spring and comfy mattress, and then I need a desk. I will be working from home, after all. (I seem to say that line 10 times a day - sorry if I'm boring you. It's just so revolutionary to me.)
And then I need to get just enough furniture to have a housewarming shindig! You're all invited, of course. I wouldn't mind at all if you flew in from the US and A just for the party. I think it would be worth it, don't you? I will be serving mulled wine (70% likelihood). And you can sleep on my desk, if I don't have a guest bed yet.
Soooooo, rehitim (furniture in Hebrew) it is! Luckily, I live near the industrial area of Talpiot, where furniture stores abound. I should be able to find plenty of things that catch my fancy. And then it's on to the business of making a home!
The thing I think I love the most about my new apartment is that it has a nice-sized garden. Coming from Manhattan, it's like shangri-la. I can even have a sukkah in it if I so desire! I plan to string up some lanterns and hang out there 24/7 when the weather is nice. Fly in anytime to join me, whether it's from Tel Aviv (sooooo far away) or New York (a hop, skip and a jump).
Also, the place has history. Before 1948, the apartment building it's housed in was the Iraqi Embassy. Even better still, during the War of Independence, there was a gun fight between the Palmach (resistance) fighter who lived in my apartment and the enemies directly across the way. Apparently there are still bullet holes in the building's facade.
Yes, Scooby Doo, this is true.
I'm actually taking all of this as a good sign. I'm very zionistic and I'm proud to be in a place that helped Israel win her (yes, her, since medina is a female term) independence. And I'm sure the Palmach fighter had fabulous furniture.
This is a huge relief since I have been living out of suitcases for 2.5 months now. I've gotten used to being flexible but I can't wait to have a place all my own. Right now, my new apartment is light-filled, lovely and completely empty.
That's right, there is not a stick of furniture to be found in the place. Aside from the refrigerator and stove, which are not to be taken for granted in Israel (since they are not always included in a rental). I have a huge list of things I need to buy, and first up, is....a vanity table complete with poufy chair!!
Ha ha, just kidding, it's a bed. I mean, what would I do otherwise, sleep on top of my overstuffed duffle bag? Hmm, I could always sleep in my refrigerator...No darlings, I need a serious bed, with a headboard, box spring and comfy mattress, and then I need a desk. I will be working from home, after all. (I seem to say that line 10 times a day - sorry if I'm boring you. It's just so revolutionary to me.)
And then I need to get just enough furniture to have a housewarming shindig! You're all invited, of course. I wouldn't mind at all if you flew in from the US and A just for the party. I think it would be worth it, don't you? I will be serving mulled wine (70% likelihood). And you can sleep on my desk, if I don't have a guest bed yet.
Soooooo, rehitim (furniture in Hebrew) it is! Luckily, I live near the industrial area of Talpiot, where furniture stores abound. I should be able to find plenty of things that catch my fancy. And then it's on to the business of making a home!
The thing I think I love the most about my new apartment is that it has a nice-sized garden. Coming from Manhattan, it's like shangri-la. I can even have a sukkah in it if I so desire! I plan to string up some lanterns and hang out there 24/7 when the weather is nice. Fly in anytime to join me, whether it's from Tel Aviv (sooooo far away) or New York (a hop, skip and a jump).
Also, the place has history. Before 1948, the apartment building it's housed in was the Iraqi Embassy. Even better still, during the War of Independence, there was a gun fight between the Palmach (resistance) fighter who lived in my apartment and the enemies directly across the way. Apparently there are still bullet holes in the building's facade.
Yes, Scooby Doo, this is true.
I'm actually taking all of this as a good sign. I'm very zionistic and I'm proud to be in a place that helped Israel win her (yes, her, since medina is a female term) independence. And I'm sure the Palmach fighter had fabulous furniture.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
You Know You're Adapting To Israeli Society When...
Savory salads, including the contentious chummus (and a few random falafel balls)
I hope you, dear readers, do too. I know it has been a while since I posted, but last week suddenly became a cauldron of activity from which I could not tear myself away. It was all I could do to keep my head above water, what with the demands of ulpan, work, etc. etc. Yadda, yadda, yadda - poor me.
In any case, for the past week I've been noticing that I have regularly been doing a number of things that were really foreign to me when I first arrived.
As a result, as much as for my own benefit as all of yours (how I flatter myself that my readership is in the plural), I've decided to compile the following list of indicators that illustrate how my over-a-month-long stay has influenced me in a number of ways.
So - You know you've been in Israel and adapted to the culture somewhat when you:
- Use the expression "go for coffee" for every possible type of social situation. Going for lunch? Going for drinks? Going bowling (not that I noticed a single bowling alley in this country)? Then you're "going for coffee."
- Get used to everyone asking you how old you are and whether you are married (and of course, then telling you they have a shidduch for you, usually inappropriate). This includes shul-goers, storekeepers and CEO's.
- Start using Israeli slang, often improperly. (Please reference my incorrect use of the word "Halaan" a few entries back.) I suddenly find myself screaming out "Ayzeh Basa!" (roughly - what a crappy situation), "Al Ha'Panim!" (on my face - when you do something embarrassing), and "Sof Ha'Derech!" (end of the road - meaning the best ever) at random intervals.
- No longer think twice when you see a car parked at a particularly odd angle in the middle of the street, or directly on the sidewalk.
- Suddenly find yourself wearing extremely casual clothes almost every day of the week. Not just the same pair of jeans five days in a row (this started immediately upon my arrival) but - gasp! - sweatshirts, sweatpants and sneakers. Together. HORRORS!!!! *Please do not tell any of my friends in Manhattan about this disturbing development - they will never let me back into their social circle. Heck, if I still lived in Manhattan, I wouldn't let myself back into my social circle.*
- (On that note:) Have attempted to get a manicure on three different occasions but have been cancelled upon by Udi, Ezzi and Mezinka each time. As a result, you take to doing your own manicures (a survival skill) or even - yes - walking around with naked nails.
- Wear a trendy, glittery, aqua beret (yes, I am referring to one of the glorious accessories I still manage to wear, despite my extreme Case of the Shlumps) and someone congratulates you on getting married. Even though you are wearing pants. After all, you are covering your hair.
- Use toilet paper in place of napkins and tissues. And get used to the lack of napkins at the table at meals. (I don't know why this is, I guess everyone surreptitiously wipes their hands and faces on the tablecloth.)
- Get used to people from Tel Aviv asking you, "Why would you want to live there?" when you tell them you live in Jerusalem. This is often due to the perceived lack of social establishments in Jeru.
- Start using abbreviations like J-lem/Jeru and TA (Tel Aviv).
- Begin to think that the distance between cities like Jeru & TA (about an hour) is soooooo looooong. Even though you thought it was the same as the relatively short distance between Queens, NY and Teaneck, NJ when you first arrived, and snickered openly at Israelis for whining about it.
- Are no longer scared of black cats but even begin to have a soft spot for them. I am considering naming the one I see most often. Perhaps I will call him 'Black Coffee.'
- Have extremely strong opinions about the best chummus in your local grocery, in your neighborhood and in the cities of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. And you aren't afraid to voice them, ever.
- Are shown to a table at a cafe and bark at the waitress that you did not want that one but instead wanted one in the middle. Then you stop yourself a minute later when you realize that tone of voice was entirely unnecessary. It's just that you've gotten used to people barking at you.
- Not only are blunt in regard to seating at dining establishments, but basically everything.
You people are boring. I need to go. (There I go with the bluntness again.) Sorry.
Toodles.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Note to Self: Learn Slang and Words for All Questionable Body Parts Before Posting on Facebook
Today's Facebook exchange is so hilarious I had to post it. Check out my status update and the comments that followed. (Each dash represents a different commentator - identifying names and photos have been removed to protect the innocent.)
Erica Why do the words 'Shadayim Yerushalayim' keep running through my head at odd intervals? What the heck does that mean, anyway? (And don't tell me to look it up because I just got back from 5 hours of ulpan and my brain is fried.)
Monday, February 1, 2010
Apartment Hunt, Oh Apartment Hunt
"Apartment Hunt, Oh Apartment Hunt..." (sing to the tune of "Xmas Tree, Oh My Xmas Tree)
If you don't know the tune of this Xmas song then I forgive you, since a Jew has no business knowing it anyway. I can be forgiven since I lived in galus (as they say in the shtetl) for so long, but YOU should never have known from it (as Bubbe would say).
Anyhoo, the song was brought on by the insane "to'ing and fro'ing" I have been doing in order to find the right apartment. My sublet runs out on Feb. 15, necessitating that I move out on Feb. 14. (American Valentine's Day - how apropos - if cupid could shoot an arrow into the bashert apartment door I would be besotted 4ever.)
It's sad because I've become ever-so-attached to the apartment I'm subletting in the German Colony. It is an extremely charming one-bedroom straight out of a Van Gogh painting: blue pocket doors, fluttery curtains, wonderful outdoor space. (Sorry to disappoint but there is, however, no psychedelic Starry, Starry theme.) I knew I would love it and it has thoroughly spoiled me in terms of finding something I like as much.
At this point I've looked at a whole variety of dwellings, and am finding Jerusalem real estate shockingly harder to deal with than in Manhattan. I almost took an amazingly priced 2-bedroom near the Arnona/Abu Tor neighborhood. However, it was out of the way and being that I will be working from home, it is of extreme importance that I be in close proximity to all of the most popular and fabulous coffee shops on Emek Refaim. I plan to swan on over there with my laptop a number of times a week so that I can be among people as I tap away.
In any case, I've learned that you really have to follow your heart in the apartment search and hopefully it will end soon, since I don't relish the idea of jumping from friend to friend again. (Please refer to entry: Pilates??? Beuller???)
So, I've tried not to let the search overwhelm me and have been occupying myself with a variety of pursuits. One of them is laundry. The washing machine/dryer combo in my sublet is one thing that is very non-Van-Goghesque - it's housed in a shed in the garden. (A garden! Imagine that in Manhattan! Ah, the ecstasy!) I've managed to thoroughly mangle the entire process and have been warring with the machines. First I couldn't open the door to put the clothes in. Then I couldn't shut it. Then I put the detergent in the wrong place (but boy, did it smell delicious!). Then I put the clothes in the dryer for a good 40 minutes and when I came back, they were still soaking wet. Perhaps all of this hullabaloo has something to do with the fact that the directions are in French.
On another note, as I was spacing out on the bus today (after congratulating myself for not falling on my butt), I thought about the following random things that I love about Israel:
-Electric teapots - Present in every Israeli home, these one-minute wonders have your water boiling before you've even dumped your oatmeal packet into your mug.
-Cafes - Israelis don't grab coffee and go. They hang out for hours and shoot the breeze. Truly, no one seems to work at all in this country since the cafes are always mobbed. Then again, they could be working 'from home' like me, tourists, or trust fund babies (lucky brats).
-The dramatic "CHHHH" sound in the Hebrew language - It just makes the words so pronounced. I'm so glad I learned to do it when I was but a young pupil.
-How the country is so small - Someone randomly emailed me on Facebook one day, then recognized me in town the next day.
-Greek salads - Israelis do such wonderful things with goat cheese.
Okay campers, off to do final battle with the laundry. G-dspeed!!!
Sunday, January 31, 2010
A Day in the Life of Your Intrepid Olah Chadasha
Holla, or as they say here, Ahalan! (I still don't know what that means, but I enjoy saying it since it makes me seem like I'm in the know. I could look up the word in my trusty Hebrew/English dictionary, but let's be honest, I probably won't.)
So, I've been regaling you with endlessly interesting anecdotes (if I do say so myself) regarding my life here, but I really think that a 'Day in the Life' entry would illuminate just what I'm experiencing. Read on!
6:20am - Actually get up when alarm rings to go jogging for second day in a row. It's the beginning of a new regime since I just couldn't take the lack of exercise anymore. I need it physically, emotionally and so I don't go crazy(ily).
6:27am - Eat bowl of off-brand cornflakes and 1% milk (no skim allowed in Israel). Bliss.
6:40am - I zip down the eerily empty Rechov Emek Refaim, which is just beginning to show signs of life. Some workers have left huge bags of onions and potatoes outside a cafe. I contemplate stealing one but come to my senses, since: 1. I'm no ganev; and 2. What the heck would I do with so many onions?? I resume my jog sans huge sack of tubers.
7:10am - In the absence of a true jogging trail, I run in circles around the cement courts of Gan Ha'Paamon, built for some indeterminate sports, which I share with a bunch of fiesty cats. (There I go with the cats again.) They run like the wind everytime I get within a few feet (or is it grams? ha ha) of them. My brilliant theory is that all the bright blue I was wearing - my fleece and headband - spooked them. Or are cats color blind?
7:40am - Back home, I rush around getting ready, needing to be at ulpan by 8:30. Finally know how to get to the bus stop without getting lost. The bus is usually late so I think I have all the time in the world, but I get there as it is just leaving. I huff and puff and scream out a few mild obscenities, causing the policemen randomly checking cars nearby to stare up at me quizzically. I give them a dazzling smile in return.
8:20am - I use my time waiting at the bus stop to do the ulpan homework I should have done the night before. What can I say, the life of an olah is very full and I am proud to be doing any HW at all. (Sorry Mom and Aunt Gail. I'm still your shining star, right?? :)
8:32am - The bus miraculously comes earlier than it normally would (it's spaced out about every 25 bleeding minutes). I try to buy a monthly pass, but don't have enough cash. All of my maneuvering in tandem with the bus driver's sudden whoosh out of the station causes me to fall smack dab on my butt.
8:34am - What does one do in this scenario but laugh, smile adoringly at my fans, and then get comfy on the floor? I work out my ticket issues, haul myself up and resume the bus ride. I'm only 10 minutes late to ulpan, and lovely Morah Esther (who has the same name as my darling mom) welcomes me with a sweet smile, not guilting me at all for being tardy (to the Hebrew grammar party). I love her.
8:58am - Yahoo! Time for snack #1! I noisily unwrap a mini Luna bar (so glad I brought an entire suitcase of them with me to Israel) and gobble it down.
9:49am - I check my watch for the 7th time, pretty much a reflex. It's not that ulpan is boring but that I'm not used to sitting in a classroom for such an extended amount of time. We learn about words that have two meanings, based on their structure. The handout, for some odd reason, includes a very non-PC picture of a China-man in a Vietnamese type hat with very slanty eyes, cutting paper with scissors. Far be it from me to understand. Some very pro-human rights folks in the classroom get a little miffed. I try not to judge the illustrator too harshly and move right along (nothing to see here, folks).
10:30am - Break time! My classroom is blessedly warm and heated, but the rest of the building is absolutely freezing, much colder than the outside. I attempt to get warm by going into the nattily decorated 'Moadon' (i.e. Clubhouse), which I thought housed some computers. No such luck. However, a Young Turk that I have had the pleasure of befriending allows me to use his laptop. I manage to send out one email on the Turkish keyboard, but am unable to figure out how to include the letter 'i' with dots as well as commas and general punctuation. Nevertheless, one long email down!
10:32am - Feel guilty about all of the other emails I still owe.
11:23am - Back in class. We discuss the events of the past week. I ramble on about Obama's State of the Union Address. Esther the Teacher asks the Italians in the class if they know what happened in their home country. Greeted by their silence, I chime in, in Hebrew, that the food is good there. The class snickers. The Italians refuse to elaborate on their country's amazing food. Bastardos.
11:57am - Snack #2 - half of my PB&J sandwich! Yummers!
1pm - Time for the Tu B'Shvat ceremony! Some of my fellow ulpanites put on a talent show and: Sing songs about how man is close to the earth; put on little skits involving one girl dressing up as a surprisingly realistic-looking tree; and read off inspirational quotes from the Torah. Delightful.
1:23pm - Emotional presentation of Teudat Zehut (Israeli ID cards) to those that have not yet received them. I was gifted with mine at the airport, so I'm an old hand at this. I politely clap when the mood strikes, especially when a Spanish Stud Hoss claims his in a very charming manner.
1:50pm - Time for dried fruit and the ceremonial planting of a tree! I indulge in a fig and 2 walnuts.
2:40pm - Bus back to my sublet in the German Colony, which always involves passing Aroma Coffee. I struggle against the usual impulse to buy the diet slushie, a very expensive habit. I finally decide to compromise: I will get one every Sunday (first day of the work week) and Friday (first day of the weekend). So off I go to get one. It takes me about seven minutes to describe what I want to the Barrista (or is it Aromista?), but I triumph in the end.
2:51pm - Back at the apartment, I valiantly struggle to open both the screen door and the front door, then relock them quickly. I put in a few hours of PR work - pat on back.
3:30pm - Darla, my intrepid broker, picks me up to look at an apartment. It pretty much rawks although the location is somewhat questionable. I decide to make an offer.
4:15pm - Darla and I go food shopping together at a discount supermarket. (The roles of people here bleed over constantly - my last broker invited me for Shabbos dinner.) I did not expect so many American products and enjoy the selection of reduced fat Ken's Steakhouse salad dressings.
4:43pm - The cashier informs me that I am entitled to a free bottle of soda with my purchase, so I naturally go to the nearby soda section and take my sweet time deciding if I want Diet Coke with Lemon, or some sort of Sprite drink. She jerks me out of my reverie when she shrieks that I should first get to work packing my groceries (yes, we do it ourselves here) and only then can I pick out the dang bottle. I attempt to yell back, but end up saluting and obeying of course.
5:12pm - Darla laughs about how in all her 10 years of going to this supermarket, she has never seen the cashier react that way. I attribute her venom to my blond innocence (i.e. my wide-eyed, flaxen grace).
6:47pm - I heat up a frozen lasagna I purchased at the Supermarket of Shrieking, and it is utterly delicious. I chomp away as I converse with some unlucky soul on the phone.
7:30pm - Darla and I meet with the owners of the apartment I am seriously contemplating renting, and they ask for some outrageous sum as a security measure, which is somehow considered to be a normal practice in Israel. At least according to their broker - our lawyer will have the final say. Not sure how the apartment will work out after all, but will be seeing another tomorrow.
8:45pm - Tidy up at home and make some final phone calls. Have some random Facebook Instant Message chats.
10:15pm - Realize that I must post a blog entry and push myself off my furry, delicious comforter and into the tundra of the living room.
11:04pm - Blog entry completed! Off for a midnight snack and then beddie-bye. Layla tov!
So, I've been regaling you with endlessly interesting anecdotes (if I do say so myself) regarding my life here, but I really think that a 'Day in the Life' entry would illuminate just what I'm experiencing. Read on!
6:20am - Actually get up when alarm rings to go jogging for second day in a row. It's the beginning of a new regime since I just couldn't take the lack of exercise anymore. I need it physically, emotionally and so I don't go crazy(ily).
6:27am - Eat bowl of off-brand cornflakes and 1% milk (no skim allowed in Israel). Bliss.
6:40am - I zip down the eerily empty Rechov Emek Refaim, which is just beginning to show signs of life. Some workers have left huge bags of onions and potatoes outside a cafe. I contemplate stealing one but come to my senses, since: 1. I'm no ganev; and 2. What the heck would I do with so many onions?? I resume my jog sans huge sack of tubers.
7:10am - In the absence of a true jogging trail, I run in circles around the cement courts of Gan Ha'Paamon, built for some indeterminate sports, which I share with a bunch of fiesty cats. (There I go with the cats again.) They run like the wind everytime I get within a few feet (or is it grams? ha ha) of them. My brilliant theory is that all the bright blue I was wearing - my fleece and headband - spooked them. Or are cats color blind?
7:40am - Back home, I rush around getting ready, needing to be at ulpan by 8:30. Finally know how to get to the bus stop without getting lost. The bus is usually late so I think I have all the time in the world, but I get there as it is just leaving. I huff and puff and scream out a few mild obscenities, causing the policemen randomly checking cars nearby to stare up at me quizzically. I give them a dazzling smile in return.
8:20am - I use my time waiting at the bus stop to do the ulpan homework I should have done the night before. What can I say, the life of an olah is very full and I am proud to be doing any HW at all. (Sorry Mom and Aunt Gail. I'm still your shining star, right?? :)
8:32am - The bus miraculously comes earlier than it normally would (it's spaced out about every 25 bleeding minutes). I try to buy a monthly pass, but don't have enough cash. All of my maneuvering in tandem with the bus driver's sudden whoosh out of the station causes me to fall smack dab on my butt.
8:34am - What does one do in this scenario but laugh, smile adoringly at my fans, and then get comfy on the floor? I work out my ticket issues, haul myself up and resume the bus ride. I'm only 10 minutes late to ulpan, and lovely Morah Esther (who has the same name as my darling mom) welcomes me with a sweet smile, not guilting me at all for being tardy (to the Hebrew grammar party). I love her.
8:58am - Yahoo! Time for snack #1! I noisily unwrap a mini Luna bar (so glad I brought an entire suitcase of them with me to Israel) and gobble it down.
9:49am - I check my watch for the 7th time, pretty much a reflex. It's not that ulpan is boring but that I'm not used to sitting in a classroom for such an extended amount of time. We learn about words that have two meanings, based on their structure. The handout, for some odd reason, includes a very non-PC picture of a China-man in a Vietnamese type hat with very slanty eyes, cutting paper with scissors. Far be it from me to understand. Some very pro-human rights folks in the classroom get a little miffed. I try not to judge the illustrator too harshly and move right along (nothing to see here, folks).
10:30am - Break time! My classroom is blessedly warm and heated, but the rest of the building is absolutely freezing, much colder than the outside. I attempt to get warm by going into the nattily decorated 'Moadon' (i.e. Clubhouse), which I thought housed some computers. No such luck. However, a Young Turk that I have had the pleasure of befriending allows me to use his laptop. I manage to send out one email on the Turkish keyboard, but am unable to figure out how to include the letter 'i' with dots as well as commas and general punctuation. Nevertheless, one long email down!
10:32am - Feel guilty about all of the other emails I still owe.
11:23am - Back in class. We discuss the events of the past week. I ramble on about Obama's State of the Union Address. Esther the Teacher asks the Italians in the class if they know what happened in their home country. Greeted by their silence, I chime in, in Hebrew, that the food is good there. The class snickers. The Italians refuse to elaborate on their country's amazing food. Bastardos.
11:57am - Snack #2 - half of my PB&J sandwich! Yummers!
1pm - Time for the Tu B'Shvat ceremony! Some of my fellow ulpanites put on a talent show and: Sing songs about how man is close to the earth; put on little skits involving one girl dressing up as a surprisingly realistic-looking tree; and read off inspirational quotes from the Torah. Delightful.
1:23pm - Emotional presentation of Teudat Zehut (Israeli ID cards) to those that have not yet received them. I was gifted with mine at the airport, so I'm an old hand at this. I politely clap when the mood strikes, especially when a Spanish Stud Hoss claims his in a very charming manner.
1:50pm - Time for dried fruit and the ceremonial planting of a tree! I indulge in a fig and 2 walnuts.
2:40pm - Bus back to my sublet in the German Colony, which always involves passing Aroma Coffee. I struggle against the usual impulse to buy the diet slushie, a very expensive habit. I finally decide to compromise: I will get one every Sunday (first day of the work week) and Friday (first day of the weekend). So off I go to get one. It takes me about seven minutes to describe what I want to the Barrista (or is it Aromista?), but I triumph in the end.
2:51pm - Back at the apartment, I valiantly struggle to open both the screen door and the front door, then relock them quickly. I put in a few hours of PR work - pat on back.
3:30pm - Darla, my intrepid broker, picks me up to look at an apartment. It pretty much rawks although the location is somewhat questionable. I decide to make an offer.
4:15pm - Darla and I go food shopping together at a discount supermarket. (The roles of people here bleed over constantly - my last broker invited me for Shabbos dinner.) I did not expect so many American products and enjoy the selection of reduced fat Ken's Steakhouse salad dressings.
4:43pm - The cashier informs me that I am entitled to a free bottle of soda with my purchase, so I naturally go to the nearby soda section and take my sweet time deciding if I want Diet Coke with Lemon, or some sort of Sprite drink. She jerks me out of my reverie when she shrieks that I should first get to work packing my groceries (yes, we do it ourselves here) and only then can I pick out the dang bottle. I attempt to yell back, but end up saluting and obeying of course.
5:12pm - Darla laughs about how in all her 10 years of going to this supermarket, she has never seen the cashier react that way. I attribute her venom to my blond innocence (i.e. my wide-eyed, flaxen grace).
6:47pm - I heat up a frozen lasagna I purchased at the Supermarket of Shrieking, and it is utterly delicious. I chomp away as I converse with some unlucky soul on the phone.
7:30pm - Darla and I meet with the owners of the apartment I am seriously contemplating renting, and they ask for some outrageous sum as a security measure, which is somehow considered to be a normal practice in Israel. At least according to their broker - our lawyer will have the final say. Not sure how the apartment will work out after all, but will be seeing another tomorrow.
8:45pm - Tidy up at home and make some final phone calls. Have some random Facebook Instant Message chats.
10:15pm - Realize that I must post a blog entry and push myself off my furry, delicious comforter and into the tundra of the living room.
11:04pm - Blog entry completed! Off for a midnight snack and then beddie-bye. Layla tov!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Warm, Tired Kittens
I guess the multitude of cats in Israel has me slightly obsessed, since this is the second entry in a row in which I refer to cats. And usually, I couldn't care less about our Friends Who Eat Fancy Feast.
Anyhoo, I thought the kitties of Yerushalayim would do a good job of illustrating the way I feel.
I would just love to fall asleep in a warm mug of hot chocolate.
(And isn't it ironic that one of the mugs has a dog on it? I guess that cat and that dog do get along. Har har.)
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Random Musings at the Random Hour of 8:57pm (or should I say 20:57)
Hello boys and girls!
I'm in much better humor today because last night, I received my bag with the ulpan materials back. This required a trip to Tel Aviv and ended up costing me about $60, which on balance, might not seem worth it. However, starting over with notes, homework, etc. would be such a pain and also in the bag was my 'Anneni' prayer book, which has great sentimental value. So I guess G-d really did answer my prayers since my items have been restored!
Since I'm sure you're dying to know what I had for dinner (I would be), I just finished eating some Chinese chicken I purchased at a local store. One great benefit of Israel is that the take-out ends up costing the same amount as cooking it yourself. So I saved myself alot of time and actually had meat on a Wednesday night. This is quite the accomplishment since there is an approximately 0.5% chance I would bother cooking chicken during the week. The meat was cold since there is no microwave in the sublet but like I told you before, I'm an odd nut to crack and I don't mind that at all. In fact, cold poultry raises fond memories of bleary Sunday mornings, post Hell Raising Saturday Nights, when I woke up at some odd hour and craved nothing but cold chicken, pizza or lasagna.
And now I will seamlessly segue into my still-very-much-alive-and-kicking apartment search. I have about 10,614 brokers on the case and have seen a very interesting assortment of dwellings, among them: An amazing two-bedroom that I was dying to take but doesn't really seem available (tease!), one ramshackle cottage that would be perfect for a would-be unabomber, and one really adorable studio that is just too small for a home office (and is also in a private house with a yippy dog - dealbreaker). I really need to find something soon - keep your fingers crossed.
In a few minutes, a friend of a friend who is a computer specialist is coming over to evaluate my laptop, which has been ill with a stuffy nose and a bad cough. Poor thing, it is only 7% charged at the very most and shuts down suddenly after about 10 minutes of use. Hopefully, Computer Dude will administer electronic Sudafed and chicken soup and my laptop will be back in fighting form.
I looked at a few gyms today because I feel like The Biggest Lump in the Middle East. Normally I exercise about 4 times a week at the very least, but since I got here, jogging has gone out the window and all I do is walk (which does nothing, in my opinion). I MUST get back into it!! I keep staring at myself critically in the mirror to see if my size has changed. So far it appears that it has not, but I'm seriously thinking of posting Before and After close-up pictures on this blog and hearing your opinions (I am a vain masochist).
Being that it is Wednesday night in Izzy, there is one day before the weekend! Against my better judgement, I am going on a shabbaton. I am pretty sure it will be nothing like NCSY, but committing to spending time with a group for a fixed amount of time in a random place is always a risk. Still, it should be good fun and a new chavaya (experience).
There are some very vocal cats in the street outside who seem like they're having themselves a grand old time. I love hearing a good hiss and meow and there is certainly no shortage of cats in Israel. Rowr!!
Computer Dude is coming any minute (unless he is operating on Israeli time, which means that I have a good 2 hours), so I must go powder my nose. Please sit back in your easy chairs, enjoy smoking your pipe by the fireplace and have yourself a lovely evening (of Masterpiece Theater).
I'm in much better humor today because last night, I received my bag with the ulpan materials back. This required a trip to Tel Aviv and ended up costing me about $60, which on balance, might not seem worth it. However, starting over with notes, homework, etc. would be such a pain and also in the bag was my 'Anneni' prayer book, which has great sentimental value. So I guess G-d really did answer my prayers since my items have been restored!
Since I'm sure you're dying to know what I had for dinner (I would be), I just finished eating some Chinese chicken I purchased at a local store. One great benefit of Israel is that the take-out ends up costing the same amount as cooking it yourself. So I saved myself alot of time and actually had meat on a Wednesday night. This is quite the accomplishment since there is an approximately 0.5% chance I would bother cooking chicken during the week. The meat was cold since there is no microwave in the sublet but like I told you before, I'm an odd nut to crack and I don't mind that at all. In fact, cold poultry raises fond memories of bleary Sunday mornings, post Hell Raising Saturday Nights, when I woke up at some odd hour and craved nothing but cold chicken, pizza or lasagna.
And now I will seamlessly segue into my still-very-much-alive-and-kicking apartment search. I have about 10,614 brokers on the case and have seen a very interesting assortment of dwellings, among them: An amazing two-bedroom that I was dying to take but doesn't really seem available (tease!), one ramshackle cottage that would be perfect for a would-be unabomber, and one really adorable studio that is just too small for a home office (and is also in a private house with a yippy dog - dealbreaker). I really need to find something soon - keep your fingers crossed.
In a few minutes, a friend of a friend who is a computer specialist is coming over to evaluate my laptop, which has been ill with a stuffy nose and a bad cough. Poor thing, it is only 7% charged at the very most and shuts down suddenly after about 10 minutes of use. Hopefully, Computer Dude will administer electronic Sudafed and chicken soup and my laptop will be back in fighting form.
I looked at a few gyms today because I feel like The Biggest Lump in the Middle East. Normally I exercise about 4 times a week at the very least, but since I got here, jogging has gone out the window and all I do is walk (which does nothing, in my opinion). I MUST get back into it!! I keep staring at myself critically in the mirror to see if my size has changed. So far it appears that it has not, but I'm seriously thinking of posting Before and After close-up pictures on this blog and hearing your opinions (I am a vain masochist).
Being that it is Wednesday night in Izzy, there is one day before the weekend! Against my better judgement, I am going on a shabbaton. I am pretty sure it will be nothing like NCSY, but committing to spending time with a group for a fixed amount of time in a random place is always a risk. Still, it should be good fun and a new chavaya (experience).
There are some very vocal cats in the street outside who seem like they're having themselves a grand old time. I love hearing a good hiss and meow and there is certainly no shortage of cats in Israel. Rowr!!
Computer Dude is coming any minute (unless he is operating on Israeli time, which means that I have a good 2 hours), so I must go powder my nose. Please sit back in your easy chairs, enjoy smoking your pipe by the fireplace and have yourself a lovely evening (of Masterpiece Theater).
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Thou Shalt Not Lie...Except to Israeli Customer Service
Let's dispense with the shaloms, shall we? Suffice is to say that yesterday will not go down as a top day in the Shining Pantheon of My Life.
It all started when I was late for the bus to ulpan, again. This time there was no way around it and I had to take a cab. Uch, I hate wasting money so much!! I also have been feeling very out of control in terms of my finances because I have not been logging all of my spending on the usual Excel spreadsheet.
Truly, most of my daily routines have gone out the window with aliyah.
The cab ride was very stressful because some truck drivers decided that rush hour was the opportune time to BLOCK THE ENTIRE ROAD in order to hook up some dumping contraption. I opened my car window and shrieked at them to "ZUZ!" (MOVE!) but of course that didn't help. It just made me feel better.
I did make it to ulpan on time but had to explain why I had missed the prior day. The truth is that I still consider Saturday night the 'woo hoo, time to go out' night, even though Sunday is really a working day here. So I did not get enough sleep and just could not drag my sorry carcass to ulpan that day. Of course I didn't tell the teacher that - white lie #1.
I also had a pressing appointment in Netanya, to meet some co-workers at my new PR job. In order to be there on time, I had to leave ulpan early. This did not please my teacher and I assured her this would not be the norm, explaining that "Pussycat, it hurts me more than it hurts you." (Okay, I didn't use those exact words, but you get the nekudah/point.)
So, I rushed off to catch the bus to Bnei Brak, where I would be meeting a connecting shuttle that would take me to Netanya. I've already complained about the rude bus drivers here, but this dude will go down in the Hall of Fame of Disgruntled Nahagim. When I asked him about the right stop, he grunted at me to ask my fellow passengers.
As if!! After much screaming by me (it's a necessity to get what you need here) I finally figured out where I had to get off. A nice young girl who probably thought I was some ridiculous tourist pointed me to the exact stop, and I rushed off the bus.
About half a minute later I realized that I was no longer in possession of one of my two tote bags (call me a bag lady if you must). And guess what was in that tote? Not my passports, thank G-d, but all of my ulpan materials. Clearly, I am not a position to ace this course, especially considering that we have a test on Wednesday. How my Israeli grammar is going to suffer.
Back to the transportation story from Hell. I had missed my connecting shuttle and ran frantically into some stores in Bnei Brak, where a nice greengrocer looked in the phone book and helped me find another shuttle (at a high price). It was worth it in the end and I'll tell you why.
I called the bus company to explain that I literally had just gotten off the bus and knew the identifying numbers for both the driver and the bus (which were on my ticket). The representative, in what I am told is typical Israeli fashion, told me that the bus company does not, as a practice, keep the private phone numbers of their individual bus drivers.
This mystified me - how the heck do you run a company without knowing the numbers of your bus drivers?? The rep insisted she could not call the bus driver and said I would have to be satisfied with leaving my contact information with her, and she would call me if something was found.
Usually I joke about these matters, but I was really appalled by her baffling lack of sympathy. Having reached my breaking point, I launched into a tirade for the benefit of my driver whereby I screeched that I was an Olah Chadasha and just could not understand why people are so mean. I didn't get why people invited us to come to the country and then treated us like crap over the most mundane matters???
I guess the driver alternately pitied me and was terrified of my wrath, because he voluntarily called the Bus Company of Idiocy back and pretended that I was his friend and had left my passports and other extremely sensitive materials in the bag. Could they check with the driver? Suddenly they could!!
What a miracle - the bus driver's number appeared out of thin air!!All because we obeyed the commandment, "Thous Shalt Lie to Israeli Customer Service."
Today, the lovely driver also picked up the bag in Tel Aviv, so I need to take a bus (shudder) back there tonight to finally get the bag back in my possession, and give the driver a nice little reward. You can bet I am not letting that dang bag out of my sight - those ulpan materials are irreplaceable.
When I told my Dad the story, he remarked that I keep losing things, and he is right: My change purse (didn't blog about that but got it back after going to the bar I had been at the night before), of course the errant belt, and now this.
What it boils down to is that aliyah has made me lose my mind. But not my appetite.
So: I got out my complaints, and you can expect your normal, cheerful narrator back any day now. In the meantime, I'm going to eat some chocolate - it's the only cure.
It all started when I was late for the bus to ulpan, again. This time there was no way around it and I had to take a cab. Uch, I hate wasting money so much!! I also have been feeling very out of control in terms of my finances because I have not been logging all of my spending on the usual Excel spreadsheet.
Truly, most of my daily routines have gone out the window with aliyah.
The cab ride was very stressful because some truck drivers decided that rush hour was the opportune time to BLOCK THE ENTIRE ROAD in order to hook up some dumping contraption. I opened my car window and shrieked at them to "ZUZ!" (MOVE!) but of course that didn't help. It just made me feel better.
I did make it to ulpan on time but had to explain why I had missed the prior day. The truth is that I still consider Saturday night the 'woo hoo, time to go out' night, even though Sunday is really a working day here. So I did not get enough sleep and just could not drag my sorry carcass to ulpan that day. Of course I didn't tell the teacher that - white lie #1.
I also had a pressing appointment in Netanya, to meet some co-workers at my new PR job. In order to be there on time, I had to leave ulpan early. This did not please my teacher and I assured her this would not be the norm, explaining that "Pussycat, it hurts me more than it hurts you." (Okay, I didn't use those exact words, but you get the nekudah/point.)
So, I rushed off to catch the bus to Bnei Brak, where I would be meeting a connecting shuttle that would take me to Netanya. I've already complained about the rude bus drivers here, but this dude will go down in the Hall of Fame of Disgruntled Nahagim. When I asked him about the right stop, he grunted at me to ask my fellow passengers.
As if!! After much screaming by me (it's a necessity to get what you need here) I finally figured out where I had to get off. A nice young girl who probably thought I was some ridiculous tourist pointed me to the exact stop, and I rushed off the bus.
About half a minute later I realized that I was no longer in possession of one of my two tote bags (call me a bag lady if you must). And guess what was in that tote? Not my passports, thank G-d, but all of my ulpan materials. Clearly, I am not a position to ace this course, especially considering that we have a test on Wednesday. How my Israeli grammar is going to suffer.
Back to the transportation story from Hell. I had missed my connecting shuttle and ran frantically into some stores in Bnei Brak, where a nice greengrocer looked in the phone book and helped me find another shuttle (at a high price). It was worth it in the end and I'll tell you why.
I called the bus company to explain that I literally had just gotten off the bus and knew the identifying numbers for both the driver and the bus (which were on my ticket). The representative, in what I am told is typical Israeli fashion, told me that the bus company does not, as a practice, keep the private phone numbers of their individual bus drivers.
This mystified me - how the heck do you run a company without knowing the numbers of your bus drivers?? The rep insisted she could not call the bus driver and said I would have to be satisfied with leaving my contact information with her, and she would call me if something was found.
Usually I joke about these matters, but I was really appalled by her baffling lack of sympathy. Having reached my breaking point, I launched into a tirade for the benefit of my driver whereby I screeched that I was an Olah Chadasha and just could not understand why people are so mean. I didn't get why people invited us to come to the country and then treated us like crap over the most mundane matters???
I guess the driver alternately pitied me and was terrified of my wrath, because he voluntarily called the Bus Company of Idiocy back and pretended that I was his friend and had left my passports and other extremely sensitive materials in the bag. Could they check with the driver? Suddenly they could!!
What a miracle - the bus driver's number appeared out of thin air!!All because we obeyed the commandment, "Thous Shalt Lie to Israeli Customer Service."
Today, the lovely driver also picked up the bag in Tel Aviv, so I need to take a bus (shudder) back there tonight to finally get the bag back in my possession, and give the driver a nice little reward. You can bet I am not letting that dang bag out of my sight - those ulpan materials are irreplaceable.
When I told my Dad the story, he remarked that I keep losing things, and he is right: My change purse (didn't blog about that but got it back after going to the bar I had been at the night before), of course the errant belt, and now this.
What it boils down to is that aliyah has made me lose my mind. But not my appetite.
So: I got out my complaints, and you can expect your normal, cheerful narrator back any day now. In the meantime, I'm going to eat some chocolate - it's the only cure.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
My Belt Left Me Bereft
Being that I finally am in one place for more than one night, yesterday I was finally able to unpack the majority of my suitcases.
I must confess that prior to this I have been - yes, shamefully - essentially wearing the same four outfits over and over again. It's really not a big deal. Everyone in Israel wears jeans every day.
(Please do not disclose this to ANYONE! I have a reputation to uphold, after all.)
Where were we? Ah, yes. So one of the things I unpacked was my prized collection of belts. I decided to wear my current favorite - a Forever 21 number in stretchy, studded black fabric - that very day.
I sashayed over to ulpan with it clipped around my new sweater with drapey sleeves. I patted it comfortingly a number of times throughout the morning. Around 11:07am (I remember the exact moment! Horrors!) I suddenly realized that my belt was no longer on my person!!
What had happened?? I surmised that it was clipped on tenuously and had fallen off somewhere. Oh, the worry! I dashed out of class and was so relieved to find it laying in a snake-like heap under a chair in the nearby lobby.
I re-secured it, making sure it was well on, and continued with my day, trying to forget the trauma.
That evening, I went out to dinner at one of the cafes lining Rechov Emek Refaim (and had a very odd salad, might I add). Oh, I had myself a fabulous time. After I returned home, I was straightening up my new sublet, feeling rather content with myself, when I suddenly realized - gasp! - I was no longer wearing my belt!!
Yes, it had disappeared for the second time that day.
I had either lost it in my friend's car, in the restaurant, or it was gone forever.
For a moment, I was devastated by the third possibility, but then realized that I didn't really want a belt that was just not that into me.
Still, I argued with myself, I wasn't sure of the belt's motivation. So like a teenage girl with a lovesick crush, I called my friend to inquire: Might he have found a belt in his car?
He hesitated for a moment, perhaps pondering what kind of pills I was on and where he could get some, but finally responded that sadly, no, he had not.
Strike one!
Yet I persevered. Today, on the way home from ulpan, I walked (beltlessly) by the restaurant and asked in Hebrew (probably making the whole exchange sound ever more bizarre) whether they had found a belt under my table, around the bar or elsewhere? I could barely look at them, so shamed was I by my request.
They HAD!
I was so happy to see my belt again that I flew into a state of bliss.
However, now that I've had some time to think, I'm wondering:
- Just why did my belt run away from me twice?
- Was it unhappy to be found?
- Has it found another girl it likes better than me? (Is she Israeli? Is she Belgian? Oh, I'm torturing myself.)
- Was my belt, in fact, planning to rednezvous with Giveret X at the Restaurant of Broken Dreams (and Belts)??
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
HaUlpan Sheli
La'Ulpan sheli shalosh pinot, shalosh pinot la'ulpan sheli...(My ulpan has 3 corners...)
Oh wait, that's a song about a kova (hat)! Strike that from the record, Your Honor!
Soooo, I have ulpan on the brain. (In case you don't know the meaning of this odd word that I keep referring to, 'ulpan' is an intensive study of the Hebrew language with the objective of fluency in reading, writing and speaking.) It's my new obsession because I just started on Tuesday! This coincides with my moving into a sublet in a great location in the German Colony, so for the first time in a loooong while, I have some blessed stability in my life.
I just adore having a routine again.
Nevermind that I keep getting lost on the way to the #8 bus. I'm not sure this bus stop actually exists in real time - I think it is an apparition that shifts places for the sole purpose of tormenting me. Today's bus debacle involved me getting up at 6:30am to make an 8:30 class, huffing and puffing in search of the mystical Derech Chevron, finally finding the stop after harrassing a number of innocent passerby - and being late.
My being tardy (to the party) had nothing to do with the 20 minutes I spent fiddling with the sublet's amazing cappuccino machine...nothing at all. But dang, that cappuccino was tays-tee!
How I digress. So, they actually placed me in the Ulpan's Rama Daled, their highest level of Hebrew. I still can't believe it! I know that I understand most of what I hear in daily conversation and can speak with some fluency, but I didn't think I was that advanced since I cannot follow the news or radio at all. The funny thing is that on the placement test, I made a number of mistakes in the easiest section and got 100% in the hardest section.
I've always been an odd egoz (nut) to crack.
Anyhoooooo, my classmates are from all over the world (Australia, Russia, South Africa and of course, America) with some 'foreign' haircuts to match, and my teachers are adorable. I am re-learning all the Hebrew grammar, male/female tenses and vocabulary I have forgotten over the years. It's in there somewhere!
I am particularly enjoying the vocabulary part. Here are but a few of the words I learned to translate into Hebrew today:
-Nuclear weapons
-Hips (we had to add an adjective so I chose 'fat' - tee hee)
-FBI (are they focusing on my hips???)
-Ankles
-Chaos
-Socks (don't ask me about the state of my sock drawer)
I did learn other words in a wide variety of categories but I thought you would enjoy this mixed array. (Admit it, you did, didn't you?)
After my second glorious day of ulpan, I trucked on over to Rami Levi, a discount supermarket that appears to be Jerusalem's version of Costco. The fact that you can only buy a pair of heads of lettuce, and not a single one on its own, attests to the warehouse-like atmosphere.
Hmmm, maybe it is Costco, but the people there are crazier than the meshugennas at Fairway. Ah, New York...
Oh wait, that's a song about a kova (hat)! Strike that from the record, Your Honor!
Soooo, I have ulpan on the brain. (In case you don't know the meaning of this odd word that I keep referring to, 'ulpan' is an intensive study of the Hebrew language with the objective of fluency in reading, writing and speaking.) It's my new obsession because I just started on Tuesday! This coincides with my moving into a sublet in a great location in the German Colony, so for the first time in a loooong while, I have some blessed stability in my life.
I just adore having a routine again.
Nevermind that I keep getting lost on the way to the #8 bus. I'm not sure this bus stop actually exists in real time - I think it is an apparition that shifts places for the sole purpose of tormenting me. Today's bus debacle involved me getting up at 6:30am to make an 8:30 class, huffing and puffing in search of the mystical Derech Chevron, finally finding the stop after harrassing a number of innocent passerby - and being late.
My being tardy (to the party) had nothing to do with the 20 minutes I spent fiddling with the sublet's amazing cappuccino machine...nothing at all. But dang, that cappuccino was tays-tee!
How I digress. So, they actually placed me in the Ulpan's Rama Daled, their highest level of Hebrew. I still can't believe it! I know that I understand most of what I hear in daily conversation and can speak with some fluency, but I didn't think I was that advanced since I cannot follow the news or radio at all. The funny thing is that on the placement test, I made a number of mistakes in the easiest section and got 100% in the hardest section.
I've always been an odd egoz (nut) to crack.
Anyhoooooo, my classmates are from all over the world (Australia, Russia, South Africa and of course, America) with some 'foreign' haircuts to match, and my teachers are adorable. I am re-learning all the Hebrew grammar, male/female tenses and vocabulary I have forgotten over the years. It's in there somewhere!
I am particularly enjoying the vocabulary part. Here are but a few of the words I learned to translate into Hebrew today:
-Nuclear weapons
-Hips (we had to add an adjective so I chose 'fat' - tee hee)
-FBI (are they focusing on my hips???)
-Ankles
-Chaos
-Socks (don't ask me about the state of my sock drawer)
I did learn other words in a wide variety of categories but I thought you would enjoy this mixed array. (Admit it, you did, didn't you?)
After my second glorious day of ulpan, I trucked on over to Rami Levi, a discount supermarket that appears to be Jerusalem's version of Costco. The fact that you can only buy a pair of heads of lettuce, and not a single one on its own, attests to the warehouse-like atmosphere.
Hmmm, maybe it is Costco, but the people there are crazier than the meshugennas at Fairway. Ah, New York...
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I'm Standing Right in Front of You, Dead
Chas v'shalom!
But truly, that quote epitomizes Israeli bureaucracy. The first week I was here, a new friend who I'll call Tov told me a story about obtaining her Teudat Zehut - essentially a social security number that ensures your identity as an Israeli citizen.
Tov presented herself at the appropriate Ministry (HaPanim - I believe - which means the interior). Whereupon, Tov was informed that she was, in fact, dead.
Tov insisted that she was, in fact, alive. Wasn't she standing right there?
Prove it, responded the bored Israeli clerk (who had seen it all and clearly was not impressed). Despite Tov's brandishment of multiple forms of ID, the clerk informed her that the system had her listed as dead and that was that.
Ultimately, Tov managed to have her status changed. However, it took three months, and as a result, she could not obtain health insurance until the mess was cleared up.
After all, what would a dead person need with a doctor?
But truly, that quote epitomizes Israeli bureaucracy. The first week I was here, a new friend who I'll call Tov told me a story about obtaining her Teudat Zehut - essentially a social security number that ensures your identity as an Israeli citizen.
Tov presented herself at the appropriate Ministry (HaPanim - I believe - which means the interior). Whereupon, Tov was informed that she was, in fact, dead.
Tov insisted that she was, in fact, alive. Wasn't she standing right there?
Prove it, responded the bored Israeli clerk (who had seen it all and clearly was not impressed). Despite Tov's brandishment of multiple forms of ID, the clerk informed her that the system had her listed as dead and that was that.
Ultimately, Tov managed to have her status changed. However, it took three months, and as a result, she could not obtain health insurance until the mess was cleared up.
After all, what would a dead person need with a doctor?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
2 Guys, 1 Girl and a Tiny VW Bug...Aliyah, Part II
The long awaited blog entry has arrived - Part Deux of my aliyah!
So, when we left off about two weeks ago, I was about to get off the plane. Landing was a high because it truly solidified the fact that we were on the ground and here to stay. The teenagers (really young adults in their mid-twenties who were going to ulpan and reminded me of myself when I spent my freshman year of college in Bar Ilan University) went pretty crazy with their clapping and hooting. El Al played some fun songs over the intercom, including one on a Nefesh B'Nefesh video that gets me every time, with the words "I can hear my homeland calling me..." It was true - we were finally home.
That is, until Security finished the process of going through the plane and we were given the okay to leave. In the meantime, I occupied myself by talking to the Israeli guy next to me, who had been curiously quiet the entire flight. He finally started a conversation and I was able to discern that he was an El-Al air marshall, so it was understandable that he did not initiate a scintillating dialogue whilst we were in the air. (Although I still was a bit preturbed - I mean, the security of the plane? Or me? How was I supposed to feel when my seatmate showed no interest in me? Priorities, people!) He made it up to me by saying that he had a feeling the Israeli dudes would be quite happy to welcome me with open arms, since I have the look they so enjoy (i.e. I am a blondini). That mollified me somewhat and in any case, I was anxious to get off the Big Bird, otherwise known as the plane.
Being in business class (ahem, in case you had forgotten), I was able to disembark before the rest of the plebians. Trying not to draw undue attention to myself, I waited until two other women got up to leave, and then walked down the stairs with them. Turns out they were members of the press, so I was the first person to get off the plane. Typical! I can never do anything halfway, even when I want to just blend in. Oh the drama! There was a whole crowd of Israeli paparazzi documenting our arrival, and when I went to kiss the ground (kinda maudlin but really a genuine move on my part), they went crazy taking pictures. The press asked me to do it again a few times! I obliged but wish the whole thing had been a little less packaged. (Of course, one of the pics of me kissing the tarmac made it onto the Nefesh B'Nefesh video. Shandeh!)
Never-you-mind, a bunch of other olim got off the plane and the press jumped all over them. I was able to slip into a waiting bus, which was taking all of the olim in shifts to the old terminal in Ben Gurion airport. This terminal is no longer in use but is outside and therefore was able to accomodate the hundreds of well-wishers that had come from all over Israel to sing, wave flags and dance with us as we walked through the 'concrete carpet' to the airport entrance. It was an amazing experience I will never forget, and it was so nice to bask in their appreciation for our coming to be a part of the country. There were all kinds of people - older rabbis, soldiers, girls from seminaries that were dancing in silly but awesome circles.
And let's not forget who else had come - my good friend Leron and my mother's best friend from her youth, Tova!! I was so excited to be reunited with them and be greeted by familiar faces. It's not that I was in a foreign country, since I have been to Israel many times throughout my life, know the terrain (if you will) and speak the language, but this was the first time arriving for good - not as a tourist or a student, but rather a true resident that was going to have to make my way economically and socially, for real.
Nefesh B'Nefesh then had a lovely arrival ceremony, and one of the speakers was Natan Sharansky, the former Soviet refusenik who was imprisoned by the Communist government in 1977 and finally released to Israel in 1986. (He is no wimp.) He spoke really well and told us how he had arrived on aliyah: One morning he was in his prison cell, and suddenly he was freed and in the Old City by the evening. He said it was like going from Hell to Heaven in one day; needless to say, the only place to go from Heaven is down. However, he stated that while he is no longer on the initial high, the decades he has spent in Israel have still been Heaven. His speech gave me the chills and almost mitigated my disappointment when I saw there was no more free slushy coffee (should have gone for it when I first arrived - again, priorities!!).
After the ceremony, I said goodbye to Tova (I would be joining her later at her family's house in Ashkelon, where I would be staying temporarily) and Leron (we would be hanging out alot in the next few weeks, as detailed in this blog). I joined all the other olim as we were shepherded upstairs for some necessary documentation, where I got yelled at by an official who seemed a little flustered by all of the hullaballoo. It was okay - it was my first bureaucratic hurdle in Israel, so mazal tov!
Having finally secured the necessary documents, it was time to take a taxi onto Israeli soil and head to Ashkelon. Struggling with my ridiculous luggage, I went to get my chariot, thoughtfully provided by the Israeli government and Nefesh B'Nefesh at no charge. I thought it would be a breeze after everything else.
I was quite wrong - they first tried to put me and this other guy into this tiny VW bug. Poor guy - he was headed to an Absorption Center with one tiny backpack and had to be paired with the likes of me. The taxi driver went kind of ballastic when he saw my luggage and tried to tie two of my overstuffed duffle bags to the roof rack with some puny twine - nevermind that it was raining. I patently refused to allow this to go down and told Nefesh B'Nefesh they had to get us a bigger cab, whereupon they invited a third (ultra Orthodox) guy to join us in the taxi. Made total sense.
At this point the whole thing was comical, so I was happy to go along with the comedy when they picked the most insane dude in all of Israel to drive the three of us in (mercifully) a van. He sang along with the radio in a loud, hilarious voice and then put on a CD with the oddest song I have ever heard. It went something like this:
Older man's voice: Perach Perach! (Flower Flower! - some term of endearment)
Younger boy's voice (obviously fake): Eema Eema! Ani lo rotzeh la'azov et Yisrael, ani ohev et zeh poe! (Translation: Mommy, mommy! I don't want to leave Israel, I like it here!)
Mommy: LO!! (NO!!)
Then the kid started singing along with a Mizrachi beat: "Hayeenu ki'cholmim!" (We were like dreamers!)
I lurved the song! I was obsessed! I'm still obsessed! I have since asked every Israeli I meet if they have heard of it, so I can get it on my iPod and include it in every party playlist going forward, but sadly no one seems to know what I'm talking about and looks at me like I'm cuckoo. Tragic.
Anyhoo, during the ride, the taxi driver reminded me that they do in fact have food in Israel, a sly allusion to the fact that I had overpacked, at which point I informed him that I had a dead body in there. He then proceeded to have a fake converasation with the Mishtarah (Police) regarding the Rotzechet (Murderess) in his cab, and I just cracked up. The two other poor dudes, who didn't understand a word of Hebrew, looked on in bewilderment.
After the uneventful (HA!) journey, we finally arrived in Ashkelon, and after calling Tova on the phone to get directions, since we (of course) got lost, I arrived at her house. The bags were shlepped in after backbreaking labor and I unlocked the door...my (not Pee Wee's) Big Adventure had begun...
So, when we left off about two weeks ago, I was about to get off the plane. Landing was a high because it truly solidified the fact that we were on the ground and here to stay. The teenagers (really young adults in their mid-twenties who were going to ulpan and reminded me of myself when I spent my freshman year of college in Bar Ilan University) went pretty crazy with their clapping and hooting. El Al played some fun songs over the intercom, including one on a Nefesh B'Nefesh video that gets me every time, with the words "I can hear my homeland calling me..." It was true - we were finally home.
That is, until Security finished the process of going through the plane and we were given the okay to leave. In the meantime, I occupied myself by talking to the Israeli guy next to me, who had been curiously quiet the entire flight. He finally started a conversation and I was able to discern that he was an El-Al air marshall, so it was understandable that he did not initiate a scintillating dialogue whilst we were in the air. (Although I still was a bit preturbed - I mean, the security of the plane? Or me? How was I supposed to feel when my seatmate showed no interest in me? Priorities, people!) He made it up to me by saying that he had a feeling the Israeli dudes would be quite happy to welcome me with open arms, since I have the look they so enjoy (i.e. I am a blondini). That mollified me somewhat and in any case, I was anxious to get off the Big Bird, otherwise known as the plane.
Being in business class (ahem, in case you had forgotten), I was able to disembark before the rest of the plebians. Trying not to draw undue attention to myself, I waited until two other women got up to leave, and then walked down the stairs with them. Turns out they were members of the press, so I was the first person to get off the plane. Typical! I can never do anything halfway, even when I want to just blend in. Oh the drama! There was a whole crowd of Israeli paparazzi documenting our arrival, and when I went to kiss the ground (kinda maudlin but really a genuine move on my part), they went crazy taking pictures. The press asked me to do it again a few times! I obliged but wish the whole thing had been a little less packaged. (Of course, one of the pics of me kissing the tarmac made it onto the Nefesh B'Nefesh video. Shandeh!)
Never-you-mind, a bunch of other olim got off the plane and the press jumped all over them. I was able to slip into a waiting bus, which was taking all of the olim in shifts to the old terminal in Ben Gurion airport. This terminal is no longer in use but is outside and therefore was able to accomodate the hundreds of well-wishers that had come from all over Israel to sing, wave flags and dance with us as we walked through the 'concrete carpet' to the airport entrance. It was an amazing experience I will never forget, and it was so nice to bask in their appreciation for our coming to be a part of the country. There were all kinds of people - older rabbis, soldiers, girls from seminaries that were dancing in silly but awesome circles.
And let's not forget who else had come - my good friend Leron and my mother's best friend from her youth, Tova!! I was so excited to be reunited with them and be greeted by familiar faces. It's not that I was in a foreign country, since I have been to Israel many times throughout my life, know the terrain (if you will) and speak the language, but this was the first time arriving for good - not as a tourist or a student, but rather a true resident that was going to have to make my way economically and socially, for real.
Nefesh B'Nefesh then had a lovely arrival ceremony, and one of the speakers was Natan Sharansky, the former Soviet refusenik who was imprisoned by the Communist government in 1977 and finally released to Israel in 1986. (He is no wimp.) He spoke really well and told us how he had arrived on aliyah: One morning he was in his prison cell, and suddenly he was freed and in the Old City by the evening. He said it was like going from Hell to Heaven in one day; needless to say, the only place to go from Heaven is down. However, he stated that while he is no longer on the initial high, the decades he has spent in Israel have still been Heaven. His speech gave me the chills and almost mitigated my disappointment when I saw there was no more free slushy coffee (should have gone for it when I first arrived - again, priorities!!).
After the ceremony, I said goodbye to Tova (I would be joining her later at her family's house in Ashkelon, where I would be staying temporarily) and Leron (we would be hanging out alot in the next few weeks, as detailed in this blog). I joined all the other olim as we were shepherded upstairs for some necessary documentation, where I got yelled at by an official who seemed a little flustered by all of the hullaballoo. It was okay - it was my first bureaucratic hurdle in Israel, so mazal tov!
Having finally secured the necessary documents, it was time to take a taxi onto Israeli soil and head to Ashkelon. Struggling with my ridiculous luggage, I went to get my chariot, thoughtfully provided by the Israeli government and Nefesh B'Nefesh at no charge. I thought it would be a breeze after everything else.
I was quite wrong - they first tried to put me and this other guy into this tiny VW bug. Poor guy - he was headed to an Absorption Center with one tiny backpack and had to be paired with the likes of me. The taxi driver went kind of ballastic when he saw my luggage and tried to tie two of my overstuffed duffle bags to the roof rack with some puny twine - nevermind that it was raining. I patently refused to allow this to go down and told Nefesh B'Nefesh they had to get us a bigger cab, whereupon they invited a third (ultra Orthodox) guy to join us in the taxi. Made total sense.
At this point the whole thing was comical, so I was happy to go along with the comedy when they picked the most insane dude in all of Israel to drive the three of us in (mercifully) a van. He sang along with the radio in a loud, hilarious voice and then put on a CD with the oddest song I have ever heard. It went something like this:
Older man's voice: Perach Perach! (Flower Flower! - some term of endearment)
Younger boy's voice (obviously fake): Eema Eema! Ani lo rotzeh la'azov et Yisrael, ani ohev et zeh poe! (Translation: Mommy, mommy! I don't want to leave Israel, I like it here!)
Mommy: LO!! (NO!!)
Then the kid started singing along with a Mizrachi beat: "Hayeenu ki'cholmim!" (We were like dreamers!)
I lurved the song! I was obsessed! I'm still obsessed! I have since asked every Israeli I meet if they have heard of it, so I can get it on my iPod and include it in every party playlist going forward, but sadly no one seems to know what I'm talking about and looks at me like I'm cuckoo. Tragic.
Anyhoo, during the ride, the taxi driver reminded me that they do in fact have food in Israel, a sly allusion to the fact that I had overpacked, at which point I informed him that I had a dead body in there. He then proceeded to have a fake converasation with the Mishtarah (Police) regarding the Rotzechet (Murderess) in his cab, and I just cracked up. The two other poor dudes, who didn't understand a word of Hebrew, looked on in bewilderment.
After the uneventful (HA!) journey, we finally arrived in Ashkelon, and after calling Tova on the phone to get directions, since we (of course) got lost, I arrived at her house. The bags were shlepped in after backbreaking labor and I unlocked the door...my (not Pee Wee's) Big Adventure had begun...
Monday, January 11, 2010
Lists of the Bad and the Tov
Enjoy my personal lists about the ins and outs of Israeli society (based on my oh-so-astute observations).
Top things that will take a very long time to adjust to:
Tops things about Israel that are amazing and I will luv 4evah:
Top things that will take a very long time to adjust to:
- Metric system - Meters? Grams? Jigga what?
- Celsius vs. Fahrenheit - Could be counted as part of the metric system but deserves its own line. So if 0 degrees C is 32 degrees F (i.e. freezing), how the heck do I convert the rest?
- Thinking in Shekels vs. Dollars - Along the same mathematic route, the $ is worth what now? 3.7 sheks? How can I make a snap decision about buying 80 cotton balls if I don't know if they're $2.52 or $3.01??
- No Heinz ketchup - Yes, Osem has gotten way more awesome in that department, but still cannot measure up (measure up!! get it???).
- Bus drivers here - I'm from New York, so I'm used to attitude, but this is over the top. Don't get me started on how I have to hold on for dear life each time the bus RAMS out of the station and gravity shifts.
- Fashion - Just do not get the style here, which I have diagnosed as a mixture of earth mother/moshav hippie, biker chick and casual jeans and a tee. So there is nowhere to wear my fabulous collection of dresses. I did wear my silky leopard dress over Shabbos, and I believe the people of Jerusalem liked it (if their quizzical stares were any indication).
- Shopping - Nope. Nope. American Apparel is here and apparently H&M is coming, so there is a ray of light, but they are both way more expensive than NY prices and anyway, I brought enough clothes with me to get through the next 30 years, easy.
- Wimpy imitation Q-tips
- Lack of accessible and affordable manicures - Shlomi was unavailable on Friday to groom me
- Learning to type on an Israeli keyboard - I have just entered 7th grade hell (when I learned to type in English)
- Potential to become a heffa - the food is just toooo good
Tops things about Israel that are amazing and I will luv 4evah:
- The food - The fooooooood!!! OMG!!!! It is soooo amazing!!! I knew it would be, but having the option to fress it at all times is a dream come true. The shippudim (shish kebab) on Agrippas! The borekas at the bus station! The cappuccinos in the cafes! The yogurt and milkies in the makolets! The Mongolian BBQ at the rest stops!
- How everyone is Jewish - This includes Dudi the bus driver, Yaakov the computer tech, Leah the neighborhood grocer, Ezzi the Mafioso.
- How everything reflects Judaism - From the street signs - all named after famous people in the Torah and throughout Jewish history - to the sign on the bus that quotes Pirkei Avot ("Mipnei Sayvah Takum") requesting that you give your seat up for the elderly (i.e. me)
- Having G-d in close proximity - Had a lousy day? Your favorite figs aren't on sale? Go to the Kotel. Daven at some kevarim in Tiveriah. Perhaps that papaya will go down in price.
- Random Middle East/Old World character - Bedouin tents, old school villages, haggling at the shuk. It aint always 1st world around here.
- Agriculture - Speaking again and again of food, driving by fields when transversing the country. For example, going from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv, one may pass a field of peppers, or a random etrog tree in someone's backyard.
- The weather - I know this is not the most opportune time for me to mention this to my US peeps, but I, the ultimate winter hater, am loving the lack of snow, sleet and bitter cold. My white down coat, however, is not loving its lack of airtime.
- Beauty - People just look dang good.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Pilates?? Bueller??
Shavua tov, everyone. Hope you're enjoying your lazy Sundays. Here in Israel, it's the start of the work week, and...
You heard me correctly - Israelis work on Sunday!! That is such a hard thing to get used to and I have not yet wrapped my mind around it. I do have a job (and for that I thank G-d every day) but will not be starting it for a few weeks, so for me, it's the normal 'Post Shabbos/Saturday Night Revelry Recovery,' co-sponsored by Acamol/Tylenol and a huge breakfast that hopefully features an omelet.
Part of living the early oleh (new aliyah) life is trying to find an apartment, unless you are lucky enough to have a relative that lets you live in their apartment rent-free (lucky brats). I am not one of those privileged leprechauns, so I thusly have been hopping from friend to friend, feeling like a hobo with a bag on a stick (nevermind that my bag is pink, utterly feminine, completely adorable and has a huge Adidas logo). Everyone has been really nice about accomodating me but of course, I have had to adapt to their lifestyles and be as unintrusive as possible.
This morning, my friend's roomate was having a Pilates class in their living room from 8-9am. Hmm. In any case, it was important for me to be quiet for that hour and let the human pretzels do their thing. I tried, oh how valiantly I tried. I was a quiet little mouse until 9am, and at 9:12 I picked up my Pele phone and got down to business, patting myself on the back for waiting 12 extra minutes to give the roomate time to clean up.
As it turns out, the class went on longer and I was yapping so loudly into the phone the roomate had to ask me to pipe down. I can just imagine what the Pilate-ists thought of my convos. In any case, of course I lowered my voice, and then resumed my apartment hunt with new fervor.
My food intake has also been frighteningly affected by all this hopping about. Now, you all know that I need my food, and massive quantities of it, or I turn into Little Miss CrankyPants (who is a Debbie Downer at every party or random life event). For the past few days, I haven't been in one place for more than one night, and consequently, have to take it meal-by-meal. It's very hard for me not to have a refrigerator I can attack at random intervals, and this morning, I find myself in a stuation wherein it is 11am and I have not yet eaten. (Cry me a river!)
This is unheard of for me of on any day that's not a fast day, just ask any family member/friend/someone who has spoken to me for more than one minute. So I am dashing off this blog entry to you - which sadly is STILL not Part II of my aliyah (sorry Tammar) - and then I'm headed out for a huge Israeli breakfast. Which I will enjoy immensely and during which, I will not think of calories, fat grams, dietary fiber or any annoying nutritional value of the sort.
Hope you're staying warm with chestnuts roasting on an open fire and Swiss Miss hot choco warming up in your microwave.
You heard me correctly - Israelis work on Sunday!! That is such a hard thing to get used to and I have not yet wrapped my mind around it. I do have a job (and for that I thank G-d every day) but will not be starting it for a few weeks, so for me, it's the normal 'Post Shabbos/Saturday Night Revelry Recovery,' co-sponsored by Acamol/Tylenol and a huge breakfast that hopefully features an omelet.
Part of living the early oleh (new aliyah) life is trying to find an apartment, unless you are lucky enough to have a relative that lets you live in their apartment rent-free (lucky brats). I am not one of those privileged leprechauns, so I thusly have been hopping from friend to friend, feeling like a hobo with a bag on a stick (nevermind that my bag is pink, utterly feminine, completely adorable and has a huge Adidas logo). Everyone has been really nice about accomodating me but of course, I have had to adapt to their lifestyles and be as unintrusive as possible.
This morning, my friend's roomate was having a Pilates class in their living room from 8-9am. Hmm. In any case, it was important for me to be quiet for that hour and let the human pretzels do their thing. I tried, oh how valiantly I tried. I was a quiet little mouse until 9am, and at 9:12 I picked up my Pele phone and got down to business, patting myself on the back for waiting 12 extra minutes to give the roomate time to clean up.
As it turns out, the class went on longer and I was yapping so loudly into the phone the roomate had to ask me to pipe down. I can just imagine what the Pilate-ists thought of my convos. In any case, of course I lowered my voice, and then resumed my apartment hunt with new fervor.
My food intake has also been frighteningly affected by all this hopping about. Now, you all know that I need my food, and massive quantities of it, or I turn into Little Miss CrankyPants (who is a Debbie Downer at every party or random life event). For the past few days, I haven't been in one place for more than one night, and consequently, have to take it meal-by-meal. It's very hard for me not to have a refrigerator I can attack at random intervals, and this morning, I find myself in a stuation wherein it is 11am and I have not yet eaten. (Cry me a river!)
This is unheard of for me of on any day that's not a fast day, just ask any family member/friend/someone who has spoken to me for more than one minute. So I am dashing off this blog entry to you - which sadly is STILL not Part II of my aliyah (sorry Tammar) - and then I'm headed out for a huge Israeli breakfast. Which I will enjoy immensely and during which, I will not think of calories, fat grams, dietary fiber or any annoying nutritional value of the sort.
Hope you're staying warm with chestnuts roasting on an open fire and Swiss Miss hot choco warming up in your microwave.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Pinni in Repose
I've gotten some inquiries about Pinni's state, given his meshuga New Year's Eve that will live on in infamy.
Not to worry, Pinni is sleeping peacefully replete with chic face mask and is somewhat contrite about his actions. (I must admit, however, that Leron & I are fully confident he will repeat them again within the next few weeks - if what he's mumbling in his sleep is accurate).
We will keep you posted!
For Adele
Not to worry, Pinni is sleeping peacefully replete with chic face mask and is somewhat contrite about his actions. (I must admit, however, that Leron & I are fully confident he will repeat them again within the next few weeks - if what he's mumbling in his sleep is accurate).
We will keep you posted!
For Adele
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Lament of the Bathrobe
Uch. Hi.
Apologies that I still have not posted Part II of my fascinating aliyah, but I'm too tired today. You'll soon see why.
So I took a day off today from the fun and exhausting process of setting up my new life, and am skulking around my family friend's house.
Guess what I'm wearing? You'll never guess since you are comfortably ensconced in your WARM, TOASTY and DELICIOUS home (or workplace - condolences).
Flannel pj pants, sheepskin slippers (NOT Uggs) and my favorite robe.
Let me describe this robe to you as it has been so pivotal in my life (so much so that I once had the AOL screen name ComfyRobe). It's a lovely shade of forest green and designed to be uberly warm. It's always come through for me.
However, the American designers (and let's be realistic, Taiwanese manufacturers) did not envision the extreme state of tundra level coldness in Israeli homes. Since Israel is either warm or hot for 75% of the year (yessss!), the homes here are actually designed to cool off air as it comes in.
This works like a trick when it's not choref (winter - I enjoy throwing in Hebrew at random intervals). However, during the time period of December through the beginning of March, it's pretty dang cold.
So my robe is sadly ineffective.
I feel bad for it.
The tip of my nose is cold.
So there.
Gamarnu (finito).
Apologies that I still have not posted Part II of my fascinating aliyah, but I'm too tired today. You'll soon see why.
So I took a day off today from the fun and exhausting process of setting up my new life, and am skulking around my family friend's house.
Guess what I'm wearing? You'll never guess since you are comfortably ensconced in your WARM, TOASTY and DELICIOUS home (or workplace - condolences).
Flannel pj pants, sheepskin slippers (NOT Uggs) and my favorite robe.
Let me describe this robe to you as it has been so pivotal in my life (so much so that I once had the AOL screen name ComfyRobe). It's a lovely shade of forest green and designed to be uberly warm. It's always come through for me.
However, the American designers (and let's be realistic, Taiwanese manufacturers) did not envision the extreme state of tundra level coldness in Israeli homes. Since Israel is either warm or hot for 75% of the year (yessss!), the homes here are actually designed to cool off air as it comes in.
This works like a trick when it's not choref (winter - I enjoy throwing in Hebrew at random intervals). However, during the time period of December through the beginning of March, it's pretty dang cold.
So my robe is sadly ineffective.
I feel bad for it.
The tip of my nose is cold.
So there.
Gamarnu (finito).
Monday, January 4, 2010
"We have the technology..."
I finally have a cell phone so there is a place to reach me in the Holy Land - please email me for the number. The funny thing is that Israelis often refer to cells as 'PelePhones' after one of the main companies here, and my plan is with Pele. So I am making the holy language come alive! (*Pat on back*)
I must say this is bittersweet since it was somewhat liberating to be completely unavailable and not preoccupied by the constant knowledge that at that very moment, I could be receiving a phone call, text, email, instant message, voodoo curse (you get the drift).
I have vowed to be less obsessed with this instrument and even though I did purchase a smart phone that will allow me to surf the internet, I am going to try very hard not to whip out every time I have a free second.
Please hold me to that!!
I must say this is bittersweet since it was somewhat liberating to be completely unavailable and not preoccupied by the constant knowledge that at that very moment, I could be receiving a phone call, text, email, instant message, voodoo curse (you get the drift).
I have vowed to be less obsessed with this instrument and even though I did purchase a smart phone that will allow me to surf the internet, I am going to try very hard not to whip out every time I have a free second.
Please hold me to that!!
I cannot tell a lie - Pinnochio RAWKED New Years
Greetings, Earthings! Please allow me to take a break from sharing Part Deux of my Aliyah in order to introduce you to a very close and personal friend of mine:
Pinnochio, also affectionately known by his Hebrew moniker, Pinni!!
Not only is Pinnochio one heckuva human being (oh wait, he's not, although he aspires to be), he is multifaceted in that he also functions as a wine cork. I sassily picked him up at an adorable curiosities shop in Santa Barbara, and my life has never been the same.
I also befriended his twin brother, Dominochio, who now resides with my dear friend, Leron. Her life has also been changed in immeasurable ways, some too amazing to share. She was forced to put him in a long-term living situation (storage) while she transversed the globe, but had a blessed reunion with Pinni (and secondly, me) when I arrived in Israel.
(Side note: Please do not refer to Dominochio as the Dapper Dom, Twinnochio or Twiggy. Pinni, who at times, sadly dabbles in the immature arts, has harrassed his twin with these nicknames in the past and we don't want to recreate a contentious atmosphere for our wooden brothers.)
Leron and I took Pinni out for a whirlwind night on the town on New Year's Eve and he truly made it a time to remember. He took Jerusalem by storm by pounding vodka shots and chasing fast women, while we looked on in horror. Yes, we had brought him to a pub, but had trusted him to behave, and were therefore forced to put him to bed.
We tried to make nice the next day by taking Pinni to the shuk for cappuccino and a lovely day in the park, which he thoroughly enjoyed. Leron and I think we are all at a good place right now, although we suspect that he might have snuck out while our backs were turned.
Please enjoy the photo montage below, which captures this delightful tale in all its glory. Pinni is too hungover to thank you, but I know he would want it this way.
Pinnochio, also affectionately known by his Hebrew moniker, Pinni!!
Not only is Pinnochio one heckuva human being (oh wait, he's not, although he aspires to be), he is multifaceted in that he also functions as a wine cork. I sassily picked him up at an adorable curiosities shop in Santa Barbara, and my life has never been the same.
I also befriended his twin brother, Dominochio, who now resides with my dear friend, Leron. Her life has also been changed in immeasurable ways, some too amazing to share. She was forced to put him in a long-term living situation (storage) while she transversed the globe, but had a blessed reunion with Pinni (and secondly, me) when I arrived in Israel.
(Side note: Please do not refer to Dominochio as the Dapper Dom, Twinnochio or Twiggy. Pinni, who at times, sadly dabbles in the immature arts, has harrassed his twin with these nicknames in the past and we don't want to recreate a contentious atmosphere for our wooden brothers.)
Leron and I took Pinni out for a whirlwind night on the town on New Year's Eve and he truly made it a time to remember. He took Jerusalem by storm by pounding vodka shots and chasing fast women, while we looked on in horror. Yes, we had brought him to a pub, but had trusted him to behave, and were therefore forced to put him to bed.
We tried to make nice the next day by taking Pinni to the shuk for cappuccino and a lovely day in the park, which he thoroughly enjoyed. Leron and I think we are all at a good place right now, although we suspect that he might have snuck out while our backs were turned.
Please enjoy the photo montage below, which captures this delightful tale in all its glory. Pinni is too hungover to thank you, but I know he would want it this way.
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