Sacred and Insane

Every morning this week, I have planned on waking up early before work to go the the Misrad HaRishui (License Ministry) to get one step closer to acquiring that Israeli driver’s license that I oh so crave – meaning, I can only drive with my American license in this country until August 31.

However, the office is all the way in Talpiot – a neighborhood on the opposite side of the city – and it opens at 8 a.m., meaning I’d need to leave my house by 7 a.m. to factor in the debacle that is inevitably Jerusalem public transportation. And trust me, when you’re dealing with a government office in this country, you want to get there as soon as – if not before – it opens. But alas, my body has gotten the better of me and allowed me to sleep through this 7 a.m. wakeup goal  for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.

I think more than that, I am just dreading the process of converting my license. I have been driving for 10 years – trained by my father on the equally haphazard roads of NJ and NY that certainly rival those of Israel – and yet, I must trudge down to this office, take two lessons, pay about NIS 1,000 and then….take a road test. This is of course after the country has allowed me to drive on its roads for an entire year on a foreign license. Makes sense? I think not.

The next question is – to buy a car or not to buy a car. While extremely expensive, having a vehicle would save me a ton of time and would also allow me to attend events that I might otherwise have to miss due to lack of transportation. But again, gas prices are astronomical here, even if you use your new immigrant discount to buy a hybrid car. But I guess there’s no point in even pondering this question until I find out if I’ve passed the phantom Israeli road test, which, I hear, is not a joy ride.

But all this does bring me back 9.5 years (almost exactly), when my dad made me arrive about 45 minutes early to my road test in Edison, NJ, in January weather – which gave me time to become so nervous that I had to run to the adjacent Port-O-Potty (Sharons NEVER use Port-O-Potties) and I also had the opportunity to test with the well-known “mean lady.” In the end, however, despite barking at me about whether I had a “medical condition” – because I was looking back and forth a lot to emphasize that I was checking side streets for cars – she passed me. However, she wouldn’t do so without also yelling at my dad of course, for not instructing me to use the “hand-over-hand” method when turning the vehicle.

Oh what a morning that was. But I got to show up to my junior year high school classes that day knowing that I could now, ahead of most people in my grade, drive a car. Thanks dad!

As I recently pledged to my father, I will now recommence blogging semi-regularly again, after a monthlong hiatus. I have now been on the job as The Jerusalem Post’s environment-energy-innovation-etc. reporter for exactly three months (from yesterday) and I am getting adjusted to the new and exciting insanities that have become part of my life here. In just three months, I have gotten to know such amazing people who are leading Israel’s hopeful transformation into a Middle East capital of renewable energy, and I can’t wait to see what the coming months of interviews and travels will bring.

But enough about my work.

Last week I played host to my little brother – alright, he’s not that little; he’s 24 years old and about six feet tall – for his first visit to Israel, and thanks to a couple rental cars and thereby the financial generosity of my parents, I was able to shepherd him around the country while handing in multiple articles per day all the while. As expected, eight full days with a close family member cannot pass without a few fistfights (OK, I’m exaggerating – just some minor bickering) but overall the time together was very successful and much needed.

My brother and me in Ramat HaNadiv woods after lunch at Kerem Zeitim and a visit to Carmel Winery

Over the week, I took my brother to Zichron Yaakov’s Carmel Winery, Masada, Ein Gedi, the Dead Sea, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Safed, Har Bental and the Yehudiya Nature Reserve, while he enjoyed the official Jewlicious Jerusalem Old City tour as well as several solo forays around the capital city while I worked. Although he spent the most time in Jerusalem, in the end he deemed the city rather “depressing” and definitely preferred many of our journeys elsewhere to the capital itself. I understand his feelings, as Jerusalem lacks water and sea-salt smell of Tel Aviv and Haifa, but it somewhat surprised me that the historical value – he’s a real history buff – didn’t override the darkness. But as he said, and said quite correctly, you can’t turn a corner in this city without finding a monument to someone’s death. Unfortunately, that is the story of the Jews, I suppose.

I think my brother’s favorite destination was our trip to Zichron Yaakov, where thanks to my good friend and wine expert Stephanie, we were able to have a personal tour of the entire place, as well as numerous tastings. What a beautiful town that place is – while I definitely enjoyed our time at the winery, another bonus was lunching with friends at the Ramat HaNadiv restaurant Kerem Zeitim, nestled cozily in the woods.

So I thank my brother for coming, and hope that he really had as much fun as I did. I have to say, however, that renting a car for a few days here most definitely spoiled me, as I now see just how much easier travel around this country is with one, rather than without one.

It was only two years ago to this day that my parents were amid their first visit to israel, the visit that for me served as a first step in convincing them that I would one day be able to move here and have an absolutely normal and successful life here nonetheless.

I remember pulling over in our silver Honda Civic rental car in the middle of Highway 1, as the 11 a.m. siren for Yom HaZikaron blared throughout the country, a sound that essentially welcomed my parents for the first time into the gates of Jerusalem.

Mom and me on Yom HaZikaron 2009 – Tuesday, April 28, 2009 – sorry Dad, I didn't have a picture of you from that trip!

Who would have thought that only two years after that day, I would be here, with their full support, watching the cars come to a complete stop on Herzl Blvd. as I stood outside my own home in Jerusalem. It’s quite surprising to me really, that things have actually unfolded rather precisely in the way my my ostensibly absurd dreams have dictated — thus far — and I can only hope that this continues. I can’t help but stop and marvel for a moment, especially on nationally pensive days like these, how I possibly ended up here.

But for that I am grateful. And I am particularly grateful today to all of the soldiers who have made life here possible.

I know I’ve been lax on the blog posts lately – on Friday, March 25th, I decided to skip the “absurdities” due to the terror attack that happened on Jerusalem two days before, but for last week – and the lack of additional blog posts in between – the only excuse I can give is getting adjusted to my new job.

-Sunday: It was spectacular to finally have clean sheets on my bed. If I wash them in my apartment, they take about four days to dry – and this can pose a problem when you only have one full set of sheets – but because I was at Ravid’s family during the weekend, I was able to wash and dry my sheets. Little did I know that I would sweat right through them once again with an illness two days later. But hey, I had clean sheets for two full days!

-Tuesday: Sick again. My body apparently cannot get used to the Israeli germ pool – either that or I’ve completely weakened my immunity due to lack of sleep – and I developed a fever with stomach virus (my favorite), with an addition of a cold as well on Thursday.

-Wednesday: I realized it’s much more difficult to write about a conference when you’re sick at home, rather than actually attending said conference. But somehow, I pulled through.

-Thursday: I received an awesome, Slurpee-esque lemon-lime-coke mixed Freezee delivered to my door by Ravid. Nothing like sugary crushed ice to make you feel better.

Shabbat Shalom.

It poured on Jerusalem today. And on Tel Aviv. And on every town in between.

I guess the sky sensed a need to wash the blood off the street from yesterday, to clean up the terrible mess that terror brings to families, to friends. Somehow, the weather seemed appropriate given yesterday’s news. Meanwhile, rockets continued to rain down on the southern portion of our country.

Yet under the rain and the winds, life went on.

And it always does here, I’m beginning to learn.

A veteran Israeli does not let the fact that an explosion occurred right in the middle of a crowded artery where he or she walks through nearly every day. He or she thanks God and/or coincidence that no friends or family members were on that vehicle and moves on. After all, what other choice is there?

But it’s not that quite simple when you’re a new Israeli, not a veteran one. You didn’t grow up with periods on and off throughout your life where buses were blowing up every other week. But then, you shake your head, and think twice – you spent your college years in West Philadelphia, where you were still exponentially more likely to be shot at gunpoint than you would be to find yourself a victim of a terror attack in Jerusalem.

That doesn’t mean it’s any less scary. Because that’s what terror is – terror. And yes, today, when I was about to exit the Azrieli Mall in Tel Aviv and saw a man arguing refusing to open his bag to a security guard, my stomach dropped immediately. When I stepped onto the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, I was a bit nervous, even though I had never yet felt this way during the time I’ve lived here.

But you have to live your life. And as an Israeli, I’m understanding that’s sometimes easier to do when you just go about your business and continue to live life normally — well, as best as you can.

I’ve decided that the introductory paragraph to my “Week’s end absurdities” is no longer necessary, so I’ll just jump right in from now on. Though perhaps not absurd throughout the entire duration of his and my mom’s visit here (Wednesday through Monday), I know that my dad will love being featured in this week’s roundup.

-Saturday: Spending the day in the Carmel, I naturally managed to get us lost (though I’m convinced it was the GPS’s fault) for the millionth time, and my dad had a seat on a rock looking disgruntled, while I tried to figure out our location on the phone with Ravid. All in all though, we ended up at a beautiful little area at the foot of the mountains called Nahal Oren, which despite the blasting Arabic music emanating from a parked car, was definitely a nice walk.

-Sunday: Ravid clearly understood exactly how to impress my dad – by wearing his brand new Giants t-shirt to dinner of course!

-Monday: My parents took me grocery shopping before they left, and graciously instructed me to pretend I was playing “Supermarket Sweep.” Also, throughout this week I was relieved to learn that there are just as many “assholes” on the road in Israel as there are in New Jersey.

-Tuesday: I got to attend my good friend Cori’s wedding, which was absolutely beautiful and moving. Of course, to keep with my character, Ravid and I got lost for at least 45 minutes on the way there.

-Wednesday: I discovered that my gym now has my favorite non-treadmill machine that I had been using often in New York, the Precor Adaptive Motion Trainer (see photo).

-Thursday: Liat had ordered a cheap vacuum that I wanted for me a few weeks back – my bank still won’t give me an Israeli credit card – and while my parents were here, it finally arrived…in packaging with a picture of a heater (of course). Assuming that the company wouldn’t take it back if I opened it, I left it closed, and Liat tirelessly called them to complain about the messed-up order. Finally, they responded to her and instructed me to open the box – because apparently, they “double” their boxes. Sure enough, I opened the box, and inside was a smaller box with the vacuum I had been expecting.

-Friday: Sleeping in till 11 was absurdly refreshing, and led to quite the productive day.

Shavua Tov!

I’ve decided that on every weekend from now on I will publish a brief list of some of the most ridiculous things I’ve seen, heard or smelled over the past week. Things that don’t warrant an entire post but encapsulate the eccentric world that is Israeli society.

-Monday: I was struggling to carry a six-pack of two-liter bottles of water, some religious-ish teenage “mean girls” decided to block the entrance to the store I was exiting from.

-Tuesday: After a sleepover at my friend Liat’s, I arrived home in the morning to find I was locked out by my roommate’s girlfriend.

Excuse the low-quality iPhone photography.

-Tuesday evening: I chatted with Pamela Anderson outside a south Tel Aviv vegan restaurant. Need I say more?

-Wednesday: My parents arrived for a visit! And I, unsurprisingly, was able to get us lost in their rental car, causing the trip from their hotel to my apartment to take 45 minutes rather than 15. I was quite happy, however, that I got to drive said rental car for three hours the following day, from Mitzpe Ramon back to Jerusalem.

-Wednesday evening: A package arrived for me after I was already out to dinner with my parents, Ravid and company, around an hour after the scheduled window that the deliveryman had promised me. When I arrived home, I found that the package was not the mini vacuum cleaner that I had ordered, but a crappy, portable space heater.

-Thursday: Near the ledge of the Mitzpe Ramon crater, a dude in Bronx getup was rapping quite uninhibitedly to a song beating rather audibly out of his oblong, red mp3 music-playing device.

-Friday: After eating dinner with my parents and seeing them off to their hotel, I settled into my room to get some work done, exactly when my 19-year-old decided to have a couple extremely loud female friends over. Obviously having consumed too much Pepsi Max (and water), I walked out to use the bathroom and they started laughing at me. Dumbfounded, I said, “What??” and then one responded, “Nothing,” and started cracking up even more. I guess I’m just not cool enough to be in a room with 19-year-old un-college-educated native Israelis.

And now that they left to go drink elsewhere, time to get some work done. Shabbat Shalom!

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This entry is cross-posted on The NY Jewish Week‘s website.

Six months in and still going strong – well, usually.

And boy, am I thankful for that.

March 1 marked six months since the day I officially immigrated to Israel – the day I found myself sent to an airport detention room waiting for an Absorption Ministry representative and then locked out of my friend’s apartment where I was initially supposed to stay. Good thing Ravid and his friend Shai were there to save the day with Shai’s car.

Since that day, I have grown and developed my life here in ways I could never imagine, and as I wrote two months ago when I turned 26, there are many people to whom I am grateful – without whose help and guidance I would not be as settled in here as I thankfully am right now.

Since I’ve arrived here, I’ve done multiple jobs and Hebrew courses at once, our next-door-neighbor has undergone a revolution and one of my roommates has left tomatoes in the shower. If Israel is anything, it sure isn’t boring. It’s a place where you learn to manage with less, you work your absolute hardest to achieve your goals and occasionally, you rest.

I have some huge and exciting challenges ahead of me in the very near future, and I just hope that the next six months here will be as successful – if not more so – as my first half-year has luckily been.

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This entry is cross-posted on The NY Jewish Week‘s website.

I’ve decided that on every weekend from now on I will publish a brief list of some of the most ridiculous things I’ve seen, heard or smelled over the past week. Things that don’t warrant an entire post but encapsulate the eccentric world that is Israeli society.

-Sunday: My brother and I managed to Skype for 2.5 hours, after not getting to speak for a long time. It was quite fun – though I’m trying to figure out what we possibly chatted about for so long. I do hope he finally comes to visit this spring.

-Monday: On my way from to a work meeting in Jerusalem’s southeastern Arnona neighborhood, I sat through over an hour-long bus ride to travel the approximately 9-kilometer (5.5-mile) route by bus. I’m really starting to think that walking is pretty much always the best bet in this city, especially if you do not have a car.

-Thursday: Toward the end of a lovely coffee meeting with my friend Raphael, we heard some ambulances blaring from Azza Street, outside the window where we sat. As I have seen all too often lately in Jerusalem, cars essentially ignored the fact that their is an emergency medical vehicle trying to get through behind them, and made little attempt to pull over and let the ambulance through. Imagine this same scenario on a bus-clogged Agripas Street.

-Thursday late afternoon: I now go to the shuk so often to buy my fruits and vegetables (well, mostly vegetables) that I am on a first-name basis with my favorite vendor of tomatoes and cucumbers – Faisel. In the summer, Faisel had told me he spotted me frequently on the bus to Mount Scopus, which initially creeped me out. But recently, after I brought Ravid to the shuk with me, Faisel commented on how “chamoud” (cute) he is and recently started telling me about his girlfriend.

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This entry is cross-posted on The NY Jewish Week‘s website.

I’ve decided that on every weekend from now on I will publish a brief list of some of the most ridiculous things I’ve seen, heard or smelled over the past week. Things that don’t warrant an entire post but encapsulate the eccentric world that is Israeli society.

-Monday: No matter where you are in the world, you can always find The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I have to admit it was difficult to resist purchasing my childhood pop-up favorite while reporting at the Jerusalem Book Fair that evening. Meanwhile, I not only met a fellow Giants fan, I also met a very lovely couple in their mid-70s who enjoy traveling everywhere from Antarctica to the North Pole to Timbuktu. I’m thoroughly impressed by them and hope to see them again soon!

-Tuesday: Quite good news arrived to me, which I will elaborate upon soon.

Baby preparing for battle??

-Wednesday noon: I was using the Bank Hapoalim ATMs in the Central Bus Station, when I looked over at the children of a haredi woman. While their mom was taking out cash, they were playing with brand new toy shot guns, as you see in the picture here. So new that the mom was throwing out the packaging in the ATM vestibule.

-Wednesday night: When I left her alone to peruse magazines at the Jerusalem Book Fair, one of my best friends – born and bred Israeli, though not without American tendencies –found herself being hit on by a man at least twice her age, who refused to believe she was native Israeli and demanded to know when she “made aliyah.”

-Friday: Oh the lengths that I will go to in order to acquire a box of vanilla Cariot cereal before Shabbat.

And with that note, a photo of the ominous pre-Shabbat weather taken at 2 p.m. from outside my gym, and Shabbat Shalom!

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This entry is cross-posted on The NY Jewish Week‘s website.