...my roommate's squeegee skills blew mine out of the water...

Two months ago , I had rain in my apartment and promptly moved out.  You must imagine how shocked I was to come home on Thursday, a rainy day, to an apartment flooded with water.  Every room had about a five centimeter covering.  I quickly realized that it was not rain this time, but rather a burst pipe under my sink.  I was unable to shut it off from within the apartment , so immediately called my roommate hoping he would have some Israeli insight.  He told me he would be home in 40 minutes and he would try to get a hold of a plumber.  In the mean time, I called my landlord and left her a message.  I then called some friends that lived near by.  They were a huge help.  One of them had a handyman that she had used in the past and he was able to tell us where in our apartment building we would find the main water shutoff.  He also found us a plumber, as my roommate had been unsuccessful in that matter.  Once the water finally stopped, the squeegeeing began.  We knocked on a couple of doors to properly equip ourselves, as my apartment only had one squeegee, and then we started the endless task of moving loads and loads of water out of the apartment and onto the balcony.  From the balcony, the water was able to drain from two drainage holes down seven stories.  It was quite a site to see.  As the squeegeeing continued, so did my calls to the landlord, but to no avail.  By the time my roommate got home, we had been squeegeeing for a good twenty minutes and had made a bit of progress, but he sprang into action as soon as he set foot inside.  It was so Israeli when he was able to do what when had done in 20 minutes together in ten minutes alone. The cleanup was finished in no time, and we turned on all of our heaters to get rid of the last of the dampness.   As soon as we finished, a downstairs neighbor came up trying to find the source of the water.  I guess our flood had spilled over to his apartment too.  His place was fine, though, and ours was finally dry.  We still couldn't get a hold of the landlord, but the plumber that the handyman called finally showed up.  He worked for a bit, had some juice with us and then continued.  I'm not quite sure what he did, but he still hasn't finished.  We have no pipework or kitchen faucet as of now, and we still haven't paid him.  Apparently he was supposed to finish yesterday (Friday), but as far as I know, he never called.  Luckily, we have two bathrooms, so after some cleaning (I mean the whole apartment had clean floors; I might as well clean the bathrooms), it has become our makeshift kitchen.  No damage was done in the flood, but it is frustrating that we still have not been able to get a hold of the landlord.  We have, however, been in touch with her legal representative and have been reassured that we will not be responsible for the cost of the repairs.  A couple weeks ago, we notified our landlord that the kitchen sink was leaking, and because she never fixed it, we are not financially responsible.  In hindsight, it was a rather entertaining afternoon activity.

On a lighter and brighter note, my espresso maker was finally delivered, and I have been loving life as a coffee drinker.   I am so over instant.  I happened to be sitting in a coffee shop near my apartment when it was delivered.  It was right after the bombing in Jerusalem, and I needed internet access (the internet in my apartment is quite shoddy), so I went down to the cafe knowing that my espresso maker was supposed to be delivered between four and six and assuming it would come later rather than sooner, based on the traffic rerouting and such.  At about 3:55 I looked up from my computer and saw the mail truck parked on the sidewalk in front of my apartment.  The mailman was trying to buzz up to me.  I asked in Hebrew if it was for apartment 17, and he asked me how I could prove I lived there.  I left my apartment in such a dash that I didn't have I.D. on me.  I unlocked the downstairs door, though to go up and get it.  It was so Israeli when he stopped me and told me it was fine. Apparently because I can get into my apartment building, my identity is confirmed.  That actually worked out in my favor because when they translated my order from English to Hebrew, my name was changed from Sondra to Sarah.  I'm not sure what would have happened if I had showed him my I.D.  Regardless, it was a non-issue; I returned to the coffee shop with my huge coffee maker.  Slightly ironic, but very exciting.

...I called my friends in Israel and found out we are all safe!!

I wanted to let you know that I am safe.  You always hear that after an attack, everyone calls to the area to make sure friends and family are safe.  I never thought that I would be a recipient of those calls.  There was such a crazy buzz and cell phone networks were swamped and kept fading in and out.  I was able to see the building near place where the bomb was left from the roof of my apartment.  There were swarms of policemen, ambulances, and helicopters.  The street is now open to traffic, and life just keeps on going.  Luckily, just about everyone I know is accounted for and safe.

On a lighter note, I forgot a very Israeli happening.  On Purim, when I was at my friend's house for a festive meal, two 20-somethings came into our party dressed up and singing and dancing.  It was so Israeli when they just joined us and started blessing everyone and wishing us luck in finding our marriage partners!  You never know what you're going to find here!

...this, that, and the other thing happened...

So my life has been pretty Israeli lately.  I guess that's a good thing because I am Israeli too.  He is a brief recap of the month and of the Israeli happenings.

At the beginning of the month, my new roommate, Asaf moved in.  He is a law and economics student in Rishon Letzion, so we often have quiet nights studying and doing homework; I study Hebrew and he studies college-y things.  Sometimes on Fridays we'll have coffee together on the balcony while watching the happenings of the city.  Sometimes we order in pizza for dinner.  His family lives nearby, so he bring us homemade food once a week.  He also brings his laundry home to them.  Living together has been great.  We get along really well, and we are both respectful of each other's space.  Hopefully we'll start speaking Hebrew too, but for now, it's just nice to have someone who can help me order things online in Hebrew and read my package slips from the post office.

This past weekend was Purim.  It is a month long endeavor in the preschools around Jerusalem.  Some days you see kids in crowns, the next they have face paint, the next is pajama day, the next they have crazy hats, and then finally a week of full on costumes.  For the bigger kids and adults, the festivities last the better part of a week.  We had a four day weekend filled with lots of yummy "Oznei Haman" (traingle shaped cookies), singing, dancing, and dressing up.  On Friday, a friend and I went to a couple of bakeries and bought a few treats from each.  After eating them on Shabbat, I decided which bakery was my favorite and stocked up for Purim.  I went to a couple parties, both in the streets and at a friend's place, and I heard the Megillah read in a cool synagogue near my apartment.  The person who was reading the story of Purim, the Megillah, used funny voices for the different speakers throughout the reading.  The next day he kept the silliness to a minimum and managed to read the whole thing in just under a half hour.  It was quite impressive; the previous reading the night before was just about one hour.  It was nice to have a couple days off of work and ulpan, and I got to see a lot of friends from Israel and from home.

Aside from the festivities, I have been learning Hebrew, working, and cooking up a storm.  I went on a soup kick for a while: veggie soup, lentil soup, etc.  I want to try split pea next, but the weather seems to be warming up, so we'll see!  I also finished my grad school applications.  I have an interview at the Hebrew University next week, and I just submitted my application to the Technion, so we'll see where I end up!

Now.  What you have been waiting for: It was so Israeli when...


...I was at the shuk, and I overheard a man telling his friend he had already had 8 beers that day.  It was only 4pm and the guy must have been in his 50s.

...I was at the shuk, and after paying for strawberries and waiting for my change, I realized something was up.  I had made the transaction in Hebrew and was worried that maybe I didn't understand something.  The total was 11 and I payed 21.  I kept looking at the guy and he kept telling me I got a good price.  I kept saying I know.  Eventually I said something.  That I was waiting for change.  I asked in Hebrew: Achat-Esrei, zeh 11. He said yes, and I told him I paid 21.  (We were back to speaking in Hebrew after the word "11".)  He promptly gave me change and thanked me so much for correcting him so he wouldn't owe me money and so it wouldn't be on his conscience.  He must have told me 4 times that I saved him!  Only in Israel do they thank you for correcting them.

...I was waiting for a friend when  I saw a guy driving down the street with a mattress balanced on the roof of his car.  There were no strings.  He simply reached up to put his hand on top whenever he was about to stop.

...I was walking down the street in a costume for Purim and so was everyone else.

...My friends and I were on the roof for a Purim meal and we see a little child (maybe 2 years old) walking down the street.  A couple of us go down to find some parents.  No big deal.  They were a block ahead of the little boy.

...I tried to order an espresso maker online.  I got a call from a guy the next day, in Hebrew, saying that he can't accept an American credit card.   After going back and forth and talking to his supervisor and calling me back, I think he accepted my card.  I got a package slip in the mail two days later, and what I assume to be my espresso maker will be delivered tomorrow.  My credit card still hasn't been charged, though.  We shall see whats up!

...more Israeli things happened, but I was too Israel and too busy to write them down.