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| Channukia in front of the Kotel |
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| Christmas Day in the Old City (2007) |
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| Lighting candles... |
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| ...with the roommies |
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| The best sufganiyot in Israel. (Roladin Bakery) They even come with extra filling for you to squeeze in. |
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
we gathered together to light up the night....
Hanukkah has come to an end; so too, has my doughnut binge and my mini (2 day) vacation from work. This whole week, though, whether at work, out and about, or at home, I have felt the Hanukkah spirit and warmth. I spent a lot of time with friends and with my roommates. It was so Israeli when we gathered together to light candles as a family. Each night, I would look from window to window in the apartments across the street and instead of wanting that sense of family they all exuded, I felt that I too possessed it. My roommates and I tried to light candles together every night. Of course there were nights when we weren't home together, but coming together for a few minutes to light candles and sing and chat gave me such a sense of wholeness. Each holiday I spend here, I feel a bit less homesick because even though Hanukkah without my family and our Hanukkah parties and latkes from the box or (gasp) from the freezer are far away, my friends here have really become a part my family. Every holiday feels more and more normal here, and slowly I am incorporating new traditions into my life. Below are some pictures of a Hanukkah (and Christmas) in Israel.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
...a store-wide screaming match...
Swimming this week has been a bit more peaceful that last week. I was even offered a ride home from one of the nice old ladies Sunday night. The rest of me week, though, has felt pretty hectic, and as I write now, I am mentally preparing for the first night of Hanukkah. I will be lighting candles in a few minutes, and shortly thereafter, I will enjoy my first sufganya (doughnut) of the season. I don't really like jelly-filled doughnuts, but I found a bakery with caramel ones and vanilla ones right around the corner, so hopefully they're yum.
Also right around the corner is a grocery store. I do some of my shopping there. Big trips, I try to go to the "discount" store (a bit less money), and I got to the shuk for my produce (more on that to come), but this is good for the little things here and there. The problem is, it always takes forever, whether you have one thing or thirty one things. Usually if I just have one thing, I ask whoever is in front of me if I can cut the line. It's a pretty Israeli thing to do and most people say yes.
On one particular outing last week, I had 11 things. Too many to cut the line and too many for the express lane. I started in a normal lane. The person ahead of me tried to pay with a gift card and a voucher. Apparently he gave them to the cashier in the wrong order and she struggled a bit. Finally the supervisor came to set things right and yell at her employee. It was a pretty uncomfortable situation. As this was dragging on, I passed my things to the cashier behind me. The express lane had no line and she overlooked the fact that I was just over the limit. She began ringing my things up, and in the end, I was finished with my whole transaction before the gift card guy got straightened out.
As I was bagging my food, I saw that the place had really gotten crowded. It was so Israeli when a store-wide screaming match broke out. Customers were yelling at each other for cutting lines, cashiers were yelling at customers to settle down and customers and cashiers were both yelling at the supervisor. Some of the customer comments were interesting and well thought out (eg. "Maybe if you paid the cashiers a bit more or hired another one, everyone would be happier and we would get faster service"); others were not (eg. "I AM NOT WAITING ANY LONGER" as the person continued to wait). I got out of there as soon as I could.
My favorite place to shop is the shuk. It's just a cool place in general. During the day it looks like this:
I do my best shopping when it looks like this: filled with people and fresh vegetables, fruits, and spices. It is a very seasonal market, and it is exciting to see new fruits coming into season every couple of weeks. Strawberries are almost in, and that's the sign that I've been in Israel for just about a full year (Jan 10); they were coming in right when I made aliyah. Citrus is also in full swing, and pomegranates are winding down. I love them, but they've been here for a while, so I guess I'm ready for the next thing . Eating seasonally is fun because I never get sick of a fruit, and as soon as a new one comes in, I get so so so excited!
It is an eerie, empty place to wander through, especially because it is normally so lively. Monday nights at the shuk, though, are CRAZY. If you combine the dark closed desolate stalls with the swarms of people from the daytime crowd, you get something like this:
And this is a light night. Monday nights at the shuk are party nights. A bar stays open late, there is live music for a bit, and then afterwards there is a DJ. This week had a bluegrass-y feel. Everyone was jumping around and line dancing and being goofy. It was even more packed than in the above picture, and people, old and young, were out and about singing and dancing and having a good time. The shuk is becoming more and more of a culture spot/hangout. During the day, there are plenty of shops for food, but a couple of coffee shops, bars, and restaurants have been opening up here and there. It is a great place to meet friends for a bite, grab a beer, or dance the night away.
Also right around the corner is a grocery store. I do some of my shopping there. Big trips, I try to go to the "discount" store (a bit less money), and I got to the shuk for my produce (more on that to come), but this is good for the little things here and there. The problem is, it always takes forever, whether you have one thing or thirty one things. Usually if I just have one thing, I ask whoever is in front of me if I can cut the line. It's a pretty Israeli thing to do and most people say yes.
On one particular outing last week, I had 11 things. Too many to cut the line and too many for the express lane. I started in a normal lane. The person ahead of me tried to pay with a gift card and a voucher. Apparently he gave them to the cashier in the wrong order and she struggled a bit. Finally the supervisor came to set things right and yell at her employee. It was a pretty uncomfortable situation. As this was dragging on, I passed my things to the cashier behind me. The express lane had no line and she overlooked the fact that I was just over the limit. She began ringing my things up, and in the end, I was finished with my whole transaction before the gift card guy got straightened out.
As I was bagging my food, I saw that the place had really gotten crowded. It was so Israeli when a store-wide screaming match broke out. Customers were yelling at each other for cutting lines, cashiers were yelling at customers to settle down and customers and cashiers were both yelling at the supervisor. Some of the customer comments were interesting and well thought out (eg. "Maybe if you paid the cashiers a bit more or hired another one, everyone would be happier and we would get faster service"); others were not (eg. "I AM NOT WAITING ANY LONGER" as the person continued to wait). I got out of there as soon as I could.
My favorite place to shop is the shuk. It's just a cool place in general. During the day it looks like this:
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| Taken from this website. |
At night and on Shabbat, the shuk looks like this:
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| Taken from this website. |
It is an eerie, empty place to wander through, especially because it is normally so lively. Monday nights at the shuk, though, are CRAZY. If you combine the dark closed desolate stalls with the swarms of people from the daytime crowd, you get something like this:
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| Courtesy of my dear friend, Shlomie Behar! |
And this is a light night. Monday nights at the shuk are party nights. A bar stays open late, there is live music for a bit, and then afterwards there is a DJ. This week had a bluegrass-y feel. Everyone was jumping around and line dancing and being goofy. It was even more packed than in the above picture, and people, old and young, were out and about singing and dancing and having a good time. The shuk is becoming more and more of a culture spot/hangout. During the day, there are plenty of shops for food, but a couple of coffee shops, bars, and restaurants have been opening up here and there. It is a great place to meet friends for a bite, grab a beer, or dance the night away.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
...another older woman began a rant, mostly to herself...
My days are usually busy. I work, eat, visit my friends, research for an internship, and sleep a bit. I have also begun to consider graduate school options. When I need to relax, I usually head to the gym for a swim. I have been swimming all my life, and more recently, I was part of a synchronized swimming team both in high school and college. Just walking into my gym and feeling the chlorine fill my lungs as I wait for my glasses to fog up from the pool's fragrant steam brings me a sense of peace and sedation, better than any drug. I usually swim three days a week, and luckily must days, the pool isn't too crowded. I have never seen my pool look like this:
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| (actual picture of my pool) (http://tomerappelbaum.blogspot.com/2011_08_01_archive.html) |
I do my best thinking in the pool. Long division is a favorite pastime of mine. I have enough time to think out complicated conversions or work out my weekly budget while I am swimming because I have nothing to distract me. It's also fun to be able to solve difficult equations without a calculator...a kind of relaxing GRE. I also think of life plans, work on Hebrew grammar, and contemplate sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I usually come out of the pool with sore muscles and a renewed mind. I look forward to a hot shower and a smooth transition into the rest of my day.
Often as I am finishing up in the locker room, one of the old ladies will start up a conversation with me. Usually it is something light and easy to follow: how warm the water is, how relaxing it is, how it would be nice to swim for hours, how many laps I swam, where I learned that...what's it called--dance?, etc. Sometimes, though, the talk isn't as light.
Last week, I went for a swim after work at 630p, a bit after the gym opens to the public for evening hours. I came in and filled my lungs with the aroma of chlorine, expecting to continue my journey through the locker room and into the pool without a hitch; however, when I walked into the locker room, I was met with a roomful of religious teenagers. The fact that they were religious wasn't too striking, and I didn't think twice about it. What caught me off guard was the disorder in the locker room. There was screaming and a bit of fighting amongst the girls and their program organizers, and there were swimsuits and wet clothes everywhere!
I quickly changed and left the squalor behind, hoping that when I returned after my swim, there would be a sense of order. Upon finishing my swim, I came back to find a very dirty but mostly empty locker room. I was quite relieved! It was so Israeli when another older woman, who had also just finished her swim, began a rant, mostly to herself, but a little bit to me, about the religious community. She was complaining about a lack of respect as seen through the filthy locker room and then she expanded her assertion by commenting on the state of religious neighborhoods in Jerusalem and behavior of religious people on the whole.
I saw the locker room problem as a direct consequence of bringing one hundred teenagers to a public pool where the locker room is only designed for about 30 people. I did not see it as a religious or political problem. But then I considered the situation. While I do not necessarily agree with this woman, it made me realize how politically charged so many things in this country seem to be.
While the majority of the world sees the conflict in the Middle East as a struggle between Israelis and Arabs, it is impossible to ignore internal conflicts, as well. One of the many complexities of Israel is that it is a Jewish state for religious and non-religious Jews. It seems like an amazing thing, but of course, it is also a cause for disagreement and some often wonder if there really is religious freedom. The schism is something that I notice every day, whether walking down the street, shul hopping, sitting in a bar, and now, even at the gym.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
...I used my protectia to get effective customer service...
A bit of background: "In Israel, 'knowing someone' is EVERYTHING. It’s called protectia (you can imagine that this is translated as 'protection') and it gets you far. It’s someone knowing you or knowing someone who knows you, bringing you under their wing and connecting you to the right people. This is the system by which many things get done in this country. From meeting with the bank manager who is seemingly unavailable for the next 3 weeks, to getting a job interview, to getting a good deal on a T.V. set, it’s all about your aunt Ida knowing the boss—or being the boss, even better! (from Center for Intercultural Learning, Canada)
This past week flew. I worked most of the week, celebrated a friend's birthday with a night out, swam a few times, and had a couple of quiet nights in with my roommates. Shabbat was nice and restful; I had a weird 18 hour flu or bug or something, but on the whole it did not affect my eating habits. I thoroughly enjoyed copious amounts of food both Friday night at a friend's apartment and Saturday at my apartment. This week, our meal didn't have a theme (last week's was Mexican), but we threw together something quite yummy!!
Today, I had the morning off, and I decided to buy a hanukia (a menorah, the candelabra that is lit on Hanuka). During my gap year, Nativ, between high school and college, I spent about four hours a week volunteering with an organization called Yad LaKashish, Lifeline for the Old (http://www.lifeline.org.il/). The organization employs members of the elderly community, many of whom were immigrants, as artists to create unique works of art. The organization does more for the elderly community than just providing a place to work, and the art they produce is really magnificent. As soon as I decided to buy a hanukia, Yad LaKashish came to mind .
Today, when I went by the shop, there was a tour group visiting. To my surprise, it was a group from Chicago!! I knew one of the coordinators and we chatted a bit. Then I continued my browsing. There was a 1+1 sale (buy one get one free) going on throughout the store, and Chicagoans were milling about everywhere. I found two hanukiot I liked, and I took my choices to wait in line with the large group of Americans. I recognized the woman working in the gift shop as the woman I worked with several years back, and I could see that she was under a lot of pressure from the immediate overcrowding of the gift shop. I waited calmly and patiently (not very Israeli). When it was my turn, I was told that the two hanukiot I had chosen were both new models and thus not part of the 1+1 sale. She asked me if I wanted to make a different choice, and I said that I liked these the most. I casually mentioned the fact that I volunteered here a few years back (slightly Israeli, using a protectia, at its lowest form) and that Yad LaKashish was the clear choice for me to buy a hanukia. It was no surprise that the newest designs were my favorite. I liked my first choice and decided to stick with it; I did not however, buy the hanukia that I had chosen to be my +1. A few days earlier, I had received the quarterly Yad Lakashish e-mail update and recalled that there was a 10% sale going on for all purchases under $100. I asked if she could apply the discount because my choice was not part of the 1+1 sale, and she said she would check. She then asked me if I was part of the group that was visiting. I told her no, and she asked me if I could wait a few minutes.
I was in no rush, so I decided to wait (also not very Israeli), but a few minutes became five and five became ten. It was so Israeli when I used my protectia, my volunteering relationship, to get effective customer service. I finally turned to her very calmly but firmly and said "Rivka, I really need to get going." As soon as she heard that I used her name (our whole conversation, from start to finish, had been in Hebrew, which was probably to my benefit when up against a group of Americans; she wasn't wearing a name tag), she quickly finished the order she was ringing up and helped me: she gave the 10% discount, asked me what my name was, we chatted a few minutes as the rest of the group waited. At the end of the exchange, I walked out a happy camper, and she smiled because of the calm I was able to offer her from within the bustle of the tour group. I was pleased with my purchase, and also proud of myself for not getting pushed to the back of the line.
In Israel, it's all about protectia, using who you know to get where you need to be. In this case, it was simple protectio, but often it takes a bit more. It has never been my way to get something without putting in the necessary effort; I am not a social climber. But just as Israelis use protectia in all aspects of their lives, I am beginning to be more confident in incorporating the concept little by little into mine as well.
This past week flew. I worked most of the week, celebrated a friend's birthday with a night out, swam a few times, and had a couple of quiet nights in with my roommates. Shabbat was nice and restful; I had a weird 18 hour flu or bug or something, but on the whole it did not affect my eating habits. I thoroughly enjoyed copious amounts of food both Friday night at a friend's apartment and Saturday at my apartment. This week, our meal didn't have a theme (last week's was Mexican), but we threw together something quite yummy!!
Today, when I went by the shop, there was a tour group visiting. To my surprise, it was a group from Chicago!! I knew one of the coordinators and we chatted a bit. Then I continued my browsing. There was a 1+1 sale (buy one get one free) going on throughout the store, and Chicagoans were milling about everywhere. I found two hanukiot I liked, and I took my choices to wait in line with the large group of Americans. I recognized the woman working in the gift shop as the woman I worked with several years back, and I could see that she was under a lot of pressure from the immediate overcrowding of the gift shop. I waited calmly and patiently (not very Israeli). When it was my turn, I was told that the two hanukiot I had chosen were both new models and thus not part of the 1+1 sale. She asked me if I wanted to make a different choice, and I said that I liked these the most. I casually mentioned the fact that I volunteered here a few years back (slightly Israeli, using a protectia, at its lowest form) and that Yad LaKashish was the clear choice for me to buy a hanukia. It was no surprise that the newest designs were my favorite. I liked my first choice and decided to stick with it; I did not however, buy the hanukia that I had chosen to be my +1. A few days earlier, I had received the quarterly Yad Lakashish e-mail update and recalled that there was a 10% sale going on for all purchases under $100. I asked if she could apply the discount because my choice was not part of the 1+1 sale, and she said she would check. She then asked me if I was part of the group that was visiting. I told her no, and she asked me if I could wait a few minutes.
I was in no rush, so I decided to wait (also not very Israeli), but a few minutes became five and five became ten. It was so Israeli when I used my protectia, my volunteering relationship, to get effective customer service. I finally turned to her very calmly but firmly and said "Rivka, I really need to get going." As soon as she heard that I used her name (our whole conversation, from start to finish, had been in Hebrew, which was probably to my benefit when up against a group of Americans; she wasn't wearing a name tag), she quickly finished the order she was ringing up and helped me: she gave the 10% discount, asked me what my name was, we chatted a few minutes as the rest of the group waited. At the end of the exchange, I walked out a happy camper, and she smiled because of the calm I was able to offer her from within the bustle of the tour group. I was pleased with my purchase, and also proud of myself for not getting pushed to the back of the line.
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| My new hanukia. The windmill spins! |
In Israel, it's all about protectia, using who you know to get where you need to be. In this case, it was simple protectio, but often it takes a bit more. It has never been my way to get something without putting in the necessary effort; I am not a social climber. But just as Israelis use protectia in all aspects of their lives, I am beginning to be more confident in incorporating the concept little by little into mine as well.
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