...Farewell

This will be my last blog entry.  I have decided that my life is fully in Israel now, and just as I didn't blog at home (in America), I will no longer be blogging at home (in Israel).  My life is still filled with Israeli moments every day (tree climbing to return a chick to its nest, free shots of Arak after lunch with the hummus bar owner; helpful passers-by in my flat tire incident), and these things still make me smile, laugh, cry, and sometimes all three at once.  If you would like to keep experiencing, come for a visit; I'd be happy to have you.

Thanks for reading,
Sondra

...when I wore shoresh (hiking) sandals to a...

A friend of mine got married on Monday night on a kibbutz in the Golan.  While not my first wedding in Israel nor my first wedding in Israel which involved Israelis, it was my first kibbutz wedding.  And it was great!  It was so great, that I even forgot to take pictures (so there aren't any in the post).  I danced the whole night away.

the invitation, with custom stamps (place & date of the wedding)

The invitation came in postcard form and advised wearing comfy shoes.  So comfy shoes, a black dress, and a sweater (which quickly came off) I wore.  I had been doing some field work in the Golan so after finishing for the day, I got showered and dressed, put my hiking sandals back on and headed to the wedding on a nearby kibbutz.  It had been raining on and off in the afternoon, and the sky looked a bit ominous--really dark clouds with a few rays of sun poking through and a rainbow in the distance as the rain drizzled down.

After following signs through most of the kibbutz, I parked in a maybe parking spot, and headed through a clearing in some trees.  The set-up was beautiful.  In the clearing were about 20 formal tables set up, a buffet, a bar, a dance floor and DJ stand, and a few low couches and tables.  There were trees throughout with paper cranes hanging from them, fresh plants were the center pieces, and natural paper pressed with seeds (which could be dissolved, freeing the seeds for planting) served as place cards.  Sheathes of wheat (in keeping with the Jewish holiday, Shavuot, celebrated two days later) made a pathway to the chuppa and the ceremony was held with a backdrop of the sunset.

Just like the setting was a mix of formal (fancy appetizers, bar, tables) and natural (outdoor setting, natural centerpieces, orchards to the left, and fields to the right), the ceremony was a blend of religious and personal.  Beautiful vows were exchanged and friends and family meaningfully participated.  The majority of the ceremony was dry (weather-wise, not eye-wise), but during the last of the sheva brachot, a light rain (just a smidge more than a drizzle) began to fall.  There was a beautiful lightning show, and the way the rain caught the lights set up around the wedding space (not a "hall" or "tent" because we were outdoors) was enchanting.  If ever it could be said than rain was perfect, in this wedding, it was.  As the ceremony finished, the rain picked up and the tropical shower rained upon the newly married couple and all of the guests for the first dance.  It was refreshing and so natural.  It let up just in time for dinner allowing for a completely dry meal with only one more drizzle later in the night.  I thought it was a magical addition to the night as did most guests--not a nuisance at all.

The night continued and everyone was dancing.  It was so Israeli that I could count on one hand how many people were wearing heels.  Jeans, shorts, and summer dresses were everywhere.  And no one was wearing a suit.  Not a single one.  Kids and adults were running around barefoot, and everywhere you looked, dance floor (read concrete slab) or otherwise, people were singing, dancing, smoking cigarettes (everyone) and drinking.  The party was still in full swing when we left at midnight, even though all of the tables had been cleared and folded up and the bar was starting to close down.    Everything about the night was really magical.  But here are a few more so Israeli aspects:

1. During the ceremony, no one sat on chairs.  There weren't even any set up.  Everyone just sort of crowds around the chuppa sitting and standing, as close as possible.
2. After dessert there was another course, mini pizzas, because it is known that everyone will be dancing for a while, and we will get hungry again.
3. There are bar tenders who walk around with bottles of alcohol pouring shots on the dance floor. They only take two shot glasses with them when they make the rounds though, so there is a lot of sharing.
4. There was an amazing, five star port-o-potty.  It had modern finishes (vessel sinks, sconces, "wood" floors), nice soap, and personal tv screens in each stall so that ambiant music can be set during each patron's bathroom experience.

Mazal tov to the happy couple, and thanks for such a fun night!

...I was on the way to returning my crutches, and...

I often say the reason I love this country is because of the people.  Here is a prime example: A few days ago, I was bringing my crutches to campus with me to give to a friend who was going to return them.  They were tied together with a string and I was casually carrying them in one hand.  I saw my bus coming and decided to run/jog (which still kind of hurts) the last few meters to the stop, crutches flailing precariously by my side.  As I got on the bus, the driver said something along the lines of "Wow! I'd love to see how you ran before the crutches."  I guess he was the only one who noticed my mini-sprint, though, because It was so Israeli when as I proceeded from the front to the crowded middle of the bus, three different people, including an older man, insisted I sit in their seats because if I had crutches in my hand, even if they were tied up and I insisted that I had already gotten over the injury, I must still need to sit.  The inherent respect for the elderly, the pregnant, and in my case, the injured, never fails to warm my heart.

...I went to the mall looking for a...

Today I did something people in the US don't do.  I went to pick up a gas mask.  It is so Israeli that even though everyone, in theory, should have a gas mask, finding information about obtaining one, and then finding the place from which to obtain it, are the most complicated things.  There is out of date information, irrelevant information, pick-up times only at certain hours, restricted pick-up dates (only one month in Jerusalem), and limited pick-up locations.  Once I tracked down the one location in Jerusalem, in the mall, I had to get there and find the distribution point.  It is poorly marked, and nobody knows about it.  I heard from a friend (thanks Rachel!!) that it was down some creepy stairs, and after asking a few security guards, going down some abandoned corridors, and working my leg muscles on quite a few stair cases, I finally found the distribution site, a large storage room in a big basement.  Below is a picture of what I received.  Hopefully, though, I will never need to use it.

...we had our third annual Yom HaAtzmaut BBQ

I will start this post on a topic other than storks and the Golan, but I cannot promise that it will stay there.

Sometimes I feel like I am still a new olah (a new immigrant), but other times, I feel like my first five months in ulpan, my summer in Kiryat Gat, and even my time working in preschool are ancient history.  I have been in my lab for over a year.  I have made so many new friends too.  A year ago, the vast majority of my friends were "ulpan friends," friends I met at Ulpan Etzion when I should have be learning Hebrew. Thankfully, I made those strong friendships in ulpan; those friends are probably the reason I stayed in Israel.  But as time goes on, I can now say that the majority of my friends are not "ulpan friends." I have friends from school and the lab, from other ulpans, from friends of "ulpan friends," and from friends of friends of "ulpan friends."   I am so glad to have such a strong friend group, they are all I have here--the people I celebrate with, study with, and do silly things with.

Our first year in Israel, we had a lovely Yom HaAztmaut BBQ in the park, and our second year in Israel we had another lovely BBQ in the park.  This year, we also had a lovely BBQ in the park.  It almost wasn't lovely, though.  The weather was gray and dreary, showers were forecast, and it was cold!  Over the years (3 now!!) we have learned to plan a good BBQ.  Sign-ups for food, requests of picnic blankets and sports equipment, bringing garbage bags, tongs, etc.  We never had to change the weather though. We had a few back up option for varying amounts of rain, and at 11am we made the decision: we were doing int in the park, the way the holiday was supposed to be celebrated.

The national showing this year at the park was much less than in the past, but that was good for us, because we have more friends now than in the past.  It was easy to find a spot and there were room for all of us.  And although it was cold and cloudy, there weren't more than 17 rain drops.  And I even managed to get sun burnt.

This year, the BBQ was different than the other two in that it was only about half "ulpan friends."  The other half were friends of friends of friends.  There were even people there that I didn't know and I organized it.  It is an ulpan/olim BBQ though, and as the year goes on, I know the group celebrating will fluctuate each year, but as one friend said (and I really hope it's true), we've made it three years, that means we have to do it forever, and in however many years, we're all going to be sitting around and our kids are going to be here barbecuing for us.  What a great wish for the future!

Everyone who came met new people, caught up with old friends (we have those now) they hadn't seen in a while, and left with a full tummy.  One of my (non-ulpan) friends made a video of the festivities (Thanks Eliyahu!!).  I have a sideways sitting part at about 32 seconds.  Enjoy.  (No storks this time.  We'll see about the next post...)

...I came up with a full lunch and was rewarded with coffee(s), dessert, and even a few places to live.

Lately I have been spending a lot of time in the Golan Heights.  It is stork season, and the birds have been keeping me busy.  In my lab, we have study sites throughout the country: the Negev, the Mercaz, near Jerusalem, in Africa, Germany, Spain, etc., and in the Golan.  Each place has its pros and cons.  All though, in all, I feel like I got pretty lucky.

On the one hand, I have one of the longest drives in our lab, but on the other hand, it's a beautiful drive without much traffic.  I also meet extremely nice people like Ichyeh, for example.  He isn't the only helpful, nice, kindhearted person I've met, though.  The list goes on an on.  It is so Israeli that the families who live and work near the nests are always offering coffee, a bathroom, invaluable information about the storks, and even cheese cake(!).  Security officials in the community are very supportive of the project thus making the internal permissions process relatively easy.  And owners of the land and farms on which the storks are found allow us free access and tons of advice.  Also people walking by are always interested in what I am doing, ask and answer a few questions, show genuine interest, and at times even offer a place to live.

Luckily, I did not have to take up the offer of the kind man who offered me a room in his "big house where he lives alone," though.  I found another apartment with a really sweet roommate in a town about twenty minutes from the nests.  I will be there a few nights a week, and I must admit that I am quite excited for a change in scenery.  The greenery, hills, and open space are a much welcomed change from the monotonous Jerusalem stone, filth and crowdedness of the city, tourists, and sound and light pollution.  It seems like it will be a great storking season in the Golan.  Hopefully it doesn't become too boring of a blog topic.  I do apologize in advance!

...the pharmacy was in a fight with the supplier...

The ankle saga continues...

Last week, I tried to buy an air cast, prescribed to me by the doctor from Terem, the emergency clinic. In America, you don't need a prescription for an air cast.  You can pick one up at a store like Target for about $50.  I mistakenly thought it would be easy to acquire here too.

I had been staying with friends in Nachlaot for a few days (THANKS Rach and Ben!!) and they live near the pharmacy run by my health insurance, so I decided to stop by.  I didn't have the piece of paper the doctor had given me because (1) I hadn't anticipated staying so long in Nachlaot and didn't think I needed to bring it with me to seder and (2) I didn't know that it was an actual prescription but rather simply a summary of my visit with recommendations for recovery.  When I got to my pharmacy, it didn't really matter, though, that I didn't have the prescription because they were all out of air casts and had been for several months.  I asked what I was supposed to do and was told that there are a few specialty orthotic stores across the street that should carry air casts.  I was also told that they would not be open for all of Pesach as they were owned by religious Jews who didn't work during the holiday.  Thank you, Israel.  Two stores right nearby, both closed for the whole holiday even though Passover, when people travel, hike, and camp, is a time of high injury making a store like this quite important.

Considering that I wasn't supposed to walk without an air cast and that I only needed to be on crutches for three to four days, waiting until the end of Pesach wasn't really an appealing option, so I asked the pharmacist if he could order an air cast for me and then when I came back, I would bring my prescription and everything would be honky dory.  It was so Israeli when he said that the pharmacy "wasn't speaking" with the supplier and would therefore be unable to order me an air cast.  The pettiness of it shocked me.  I was more shocked when he tried to offer me a much less supportive ankle brace that would cost over 600₪ ($165) without a prescription.  It looked like a $20 nothing that could have been bought at Walgreen's.   I kindly thanked him and waited patiently for Passover to end so I could track down the real deal from the specialty store.

Finally, over a week and a half after my injury, the time had come.  I hobbled to the orthotics store (I was already crutch-free on the recommendation of a physiotherapist friend...THANKS girl!!) with my prescription and gold-plus insurance card in hand ready to make a highly anticipated purchase.  And to my pleasure it was a very easy process.  I chatted for a bit with the very nice store owner about my ankle, my knees, and all of my other aches and pains.  He got me what I needed, asked me about aliyah, and had an overall good demeanor.  It was quite funny, though, when he asked why I had waited so long after the sprain to get an air cast.  I kindly reminded him that he had been closed all of Pesach (love me this so Israeli country), and we laughed a few seconds about it together.  He sent me on my way with a receipt to take to my health insurance company and a good feeling about kind, talkative, helpful Israelis (which is one of the reasons I fell in love with the country).  He had clearly explained to me the whole refund process and said that I should double check a few things to make sure I would have no problems (e.g. my referral for the air cast was from an emergency doctor and not an orthopedic specialist) and that if I did, he would write me a new receipt with a date after a proper referral.  He knew his stuff and was very helpful.

Surprisingly, so were the people at my health insurance company.  I went the next morning to work out the refund.  When I got to the office, there were a few people in front of me.  It was so Israeli when one woman, who hadn't been waiting much longer than me (from what I gathered from people sitting around me) started screaming at every single person who walked by about how it was unacceptable that only two people were working instead of four and that the wait is too long for people who work and that the customers in front of her shouldn't be allowed to ask questions because it takes too long and wastes other customers time.  While I agreed with some of her complaints, the last one really made me laugh.  After a good ten minutes of screaming, though, someone came out to help with the morning rush.  It turns out that the person who came to help could only take one type of customer, customers who needed refunds, and I was the only one who needed that service.  So I was next.  My paperwork was fine, and I was in and out of the office in three minutes.

If all goes as planned, I will get an 83% discount on my air cast.  The air cast cost 400₪ ($110) at the orthotic store (less than the lesser ankle brace the pharmacy wanted me to buy), and because I have gold-plus insurance, it should only end up costing me 68₪ ($18), much less than the $50 from Target.
(The orthotic guy in Israel said he also pays about $50 for the air cast...and then marks it up 200%.)  Thank you Israel for being the slightly backwards country with which I am so in love.

...we gave up and pulled out a cake...

Storks mating.  When we first got to the nest,
it was empty which is odd for this time of
the season, but then to our relief, both storks
returned to the nest, mated, and stayed for a
 bit.  I took this from my injured post at the
cab of Ichyeh's truck.

This past Sunday in the Golan, I sprained my ankle.  It was a big pain in the butt because my lab partner and I had a lot to do.  We were putting up camera systems so we could remotely observe the storks.  I had built most of the system and done all of the wiring, so I was in charge for the day.  We started out early and after a three and a half hour drive, made it to the Golan.  The lift was there to meet us a bit before 9am and we got right to work.

Ichyeh, our lift driver, was a hero from the start.  He had a strong background in building and was able to provide us skills, suggestions, and tools to make our lives easier and our system more stable.  We all worked well together and got off to a pretty good start.  The residents of the village who I had been in touch with to get permissions for erecting the first of our systems were all impressed by how seriously we were taking the mission, and we had set out to do a really good job.  Somewhere between our electricity source and the point where we would be mounting the camera, though, I sprained my ankle.

I had been clearing chest-high bushes with my leg and making large outward steps in the process.  On one of the outward step/plant clearing maneuvers, I put my I stepped into a ditch that had been completely covered by plants.  The bottom was about a foot down, and when I landed, I was in a lot of pain,  My first thought was that I had just rolled my ankle, but after a few minutes, it was clear I would not be able to just "walk it off."  My lab partner sat me down on the spot, and Ichyeh helped me take off my shoe and take a look at my ankle.  After a brief massage, the assessment was that I hadn't broken a bone, but I also would not be able to work the rest of the day.  They helped me to the cab of Ichyeh's truck, set me up with music and air con and got to work.

My lab partner on his own.

I explained to my lab partner what the rest of the plan was, and he stepped up to the occasion   Ichyeh was also a huge help conveying messages and prevent a few major screw ups.  We came to a point where I had to do some programming work from the ground while my lab partner was in the air.  Ichyeh helped to the spot and brought over all of the supplies I needed.  Then he did a number of laps to the electricity source and back to where I was to make sure the power supply was on or off as necessary.  It was definitely beyond his job description but we wouldn't have been able to do it without him.  I was immobile on the ground and my partner was in the air on the lift working on the cameras.  Sometime during all of these laps, Ichyeh and I exchanged numbers so I could call him when he was by the power supply to let him know when to stop turning up the voltage.  We communicated successfully, I finished trouble-shooting the system, and everything was up and running.

My post for the afternoon and evening...

Success!!

We finished a few hours behind schedule because my lab partner was working alone for much of the day, but in the end we finished and we finished well.  We were off to the next site.  Time was short, and we realized that for a number of practical reasons aside from time, we wouldn't be able to succeed.  It was so Israeli when instead, I pulled out a cake I had brought and my lab partner, Ichyeh, and I stood around eating and chatting.  Ichyeh invited us to visit him in his Bedouin village saying we would always be welcome and to ask for him.  We also found out that he had been working for the lift company a few years back, after five years had left for another job, and had come back today as a trial day.  We were shocked and thrilled by how helpful and capable he was. (The next day, I called the company and compliment his work.)  We finished our cake and called it a day.  Ichyeh wished me well and left my lab partner and me to finish our work.

The system, up and running.

About an hour later, we had checked up on the camera, finalized the programming, and were heading home.  My ankle started to really hurt at that point, and once we got back to Jerusalem, I dropped off my lab partner at the bus station to Tel Aviv, a brought off the pick-up to the lab.  I was met there by another lab member who unloaded everything for us (THANK YOU!!) and took me to TEREM, the emergency clinic.  I don't think I would have survived without her.  At TEREM, I was given a wheel chair (at that point, I couldn't walk), but I was expected to maneuver it myself.  That obviously wasn't happening.

Not the best day, but at least one camera system work!!!

After a relatively short weight, I was brought into a nurse who took my pulse and asked me if I had any allergies.  Without looking at my ankle, she sent me to have x-rays, and then I was back in the waiting room.  My friend had to go ask for some sort of a pain killer because I had been given nothing.  She also had to keep pestering the administration to look at my x-ray.  After a miserable wait of an hour (or more, I have no idea), once I was thoroughly grossed out by snot and germs and sickness everywhere, a doctor "saw" me.  It was so Israeli when I was called back to a hallway where a doctor talked at me for all of a minute in a half.  Luckily he talked at me in a mix of English and Hebrew, but it really wasn't the most informative "doctor's visit."  After that, my friend wheeled me a little farther down the hallway while we waited for someone to come wrap my ankle.  When my name was called, a was wheeled into a nook with very sick babies, bleeding patients and a few other people getting joints bandaged.  It was an all purpose, germ-filled waiting corral and I couldn't be more excited to leave.

After a few questions to the whoever who wrapped my leg, a discharge paper only half filled out, and not even accurately (so Isareli), we went to pay (76₪ because no bones were broken; it would have been free if I had a break) and were on our way.  I left with a prescription for crutches and an air cast.  It was so Israeli that the crutches, though prescribed and subsidized, were not available at the clinic and couldn't be picked up until the next morning after 830am which was inconvenient, but luckily my friend offered to get them for me.

I spent the next day in bed and hobbling around, still not able to put much weight on my ankle.  An hour or so before seder, another friend from the lab came to pick me up and drive me to seder.  I slept at my friends that night a the two after as well, and in the end, I ended up taking a Passover break.  I couldn't hike or travel like I had considered and like my friends were, but I also didn't work.  I have spent most of my time relaxing, studying, and catching up on reading.  I got a nice surprise on Wednesday, though.  It was so Israeli when I got a call from Ichyeh.  He was calling to check up on me, make sure nothing was broken, and wish me a happy holiday.  While it has been annoying not being able to walk, my friends (and Ichyeh) have really come through.  My pharmacy, run by my insurance company, and meant to be extremely inclusive and convenient, however, has not.  My Israeli sprained ankle saga continues (but I think this blog post is a bit long so I'll save it for another day).

...it didn't get better.

I thought Thursday would be the worst of the Obama madness.  I really had counted on it.  But I was wrong.  Friday was worse.  So much worse.

I headed out of the house around 9am to go to campus to organize a few last things for my current project.  As I got to the bus stop, I saw that the road ahead was closed.  My bus would have to take a round-about route that might not stop on campus.  I decided to walk.

The deserted road to campus/home from town.

My walk started out well.  I met less cops than the day before and the ones I met said I wouldn't have a problem getting to campus via my normal route.  But that was not quite the case.  About a minuteafter I asked the first cluster of police officers if I would be able to get to campus, I was stopped and told the road was closed to pedestrians (but not to cars...so Israeli).  I explained that I had just been told the road all the way to campus would be open, so the police woman called a few other people and in the end agreed to let me pass.

A completely blocked off intersection on my walk home.

Another few minutes down the road, I was stopped again.  This time the officer said the road was closed and after our exchange and his follow-up check with a few other security officers, it actually was.  But still only to pedestrians--cars were allowed to pass freely.  It was so Israeli when he let me go anyways because I had already been given "permission" by two other people, so who was he to take it away.  I didn't complain and continued my walk to campus.  When I got to the end of the secured area, right near campus, an officer came up to me and asked if he could ask me a question.  Of course I said yes, and he asked where I had come from.  When I told him that I cam from the direction of Israel Museum, he did not seem thrilled, but I had reached campus and just continued on my way, so there was nothing else for me to do.

It was so Israeli when we used buses to block roads.

The rest of the day went down hill from there.  I was able to catch a bus into town without too many problems, but getting home was a disaster.  Somewhere between the 78°F morning and my sunny shopping trip around town, the winds picked up. Then the temperature dropped, and we were in the midst of a full blown dust storm.  I went to wait for a bus because the weather was too horrendous to walk in.  It was also apparently too horrendous for Obama because instead of flying to Bethlehem he drove.  And because he drove the roads were closed.  And because the roads were closed my bus couldn't drive its normal route.  And because I live at the intersection of all of two closed roads, I couldn't take a different bus.  And because there was a sand storm, I was miserable for the entire walk home.  I was so happy to be wearing sunglasses as eye protection.  But I also desperately wanted a scarf.  I was inhaling sand and could feel it caking on my lips, recently chap-sticked in response to the sudden appearance of cold, dry weather.  It had cooled off quite a bit too, and I was not prepared for the chill or the sand or the walk.  I was prepared for Obama to leave and for my life to return to normal.  Now, it finally has.

One of the many memes surrounding Obama's visit.

...we tried to turn left and the president...

This sign is all over the city!

The past couple of days have been crazy ones.  I have been working on a really big project in the lab, and I have been putting in a ton of hours.  I was also swamped with Pesach shopping and preparations, and to make matters worse, President Obama is in town.

The country has been preparing for his visit for over a week.  There are flags and signs and banners EVERYWHERE, and now that he is here, there is security in more places than just EVERYWHERE.

I thought that by staying on campus for the majority of his visit, I would avoid the problem, but Wednesday, when I was trying to get back from the machsan (the place where we order and pick up equipment (PVC pipes, pippettes, printer paper, etc.)), I was told I wasn't allowed to walk back across campus to my lab.  The president's helicopter was about to land in the stadium just outside of campus, and therefore, I had to make the most ridiculous circle ever just to walk somewhere which should have been less that ten minutes away.

The Israeli Museum with a blimp above it...at 615am.

The next day wasn't much better.  Obama was supposed to be visiting the Israel Museum (between my house and campus--I walk through its parking lot on my normal route to the lab) around 9am.  Postings on various governmental websites said that the roads would be closed in the area starting at about 745, the time I usually take my bus through the area to campus.  I decided to walk that morning to avoid any stop-us, and I decided to leave my house around 630 to be safely in the lab before 7 and before any road closures.  I did not miss the road closures, however.  And the police and soldiers coordinating traffic were not vary organized.  I can not tell you the number of times I had to cross to the other side of the street or swoop around various areas.  My twenty minute walk was almost doubled because the president was sleeping in a hotel across town.

That wasn't the end of it though.  I was supposed to tutor in the afternoon yesterday across town.  I was a bit nervous about the buses, and although the roads were supposed to be open during my arrival and departure from tutoring, I decided that I would walk instead of relying on buses.  I get an email an hour or so before I am planning on leaving from the family I work with saying that the roads by their house are already closed and that I will not be able to get there.  Obama was giving a speech in a convention center at least 20 minutes away from their house by car at the time that I got the email, yet somehow, just the fact that he is in the country has the power to shut down the whole city.  I wasn't too upset about being spared an hour and twenty minute walk, but it was still beyond ridiculous.

Most annoyingly (thus far), must have been my journey to dinner.  It would normally be a 20 minute bus ride, but the bus I wanted wasn't running.  I was too exhausted to walk by the end of my day, so I decided that I would take a bus to the central bus station and from there transfer to where I needed to go.  The bus I wanted came, and I got on.  It started to drive its normal route.  Then we came to a road block.  We needed to make a left turn, and the police wouldn't let us.  The president was across town where I tutor, though, so the block really made no sense.  The street we were turning onto was a two way street, and traffic was running in the other direction, but our direction was blocked.  It was so Israeli when our bus driver did a fair bit of yelling at the "lazy police of Israel" (his words, not mine) saying there should be someone at the start of the street we had come from telling buses that the routes would be closed, amongst other much more colorful things.

After a few tense minutes of yelling, we straightened ourselves out, continued straight to a traffic circle, turned around, and drove back the way we came to find another route.  It was even more Israeli when as we were approaching our "blocked left turn," now on the right, we were surprised to see people turning down the road.  In the two minutes it had taken us to turn around at the traffic circle, the road had been unblocked and we were able to turn down it and continue the normal route.  The rest of my trip was filled with traffic, both president related and otherwise, and it took me over an hour to get to my destination, but dinner was worth it...yummmm.

President Obama is leaving today, and I couldn't be more excited!  Enjoy him, America.  He's all yours.

...we were toursists in our own city

A few months ago, my friends and I took part in an awesome Friday morning activity: a scavenger hunt in Nachlaot, a historic residential neighborhood in Jerusalem. One of our friends works for a company that designs scavenger hunts, and she wanted to try it out on us before she led a group of visiting tourists in the same hunt.

We lucked out and had beautiful weather. We split into two teams; got a list of clues, a map, and a source sheet with some interesting facts; and then we were off. It was a really fun morning, and I saw so many things I have never noticed. I lived in the area of the scavenger hunt for a few months, and there were so many things to which I was completely oblivious. Below are a few pictures of some amazing things that I had walked by tens of times and never noticed.

 

 

Part of the scavenger hunt was also to talk to a local and learn something new about the area. I was the nominee of our group because my Hebrew was the best, and I picked a photographer who was snapping up some of the same pictures as we were.  He turned out not to be a local of Nachlaot, but he lived just outside of Jerusalem and came often to photograph historic areas in this city and throughout the country. He was not religious, but he was drawn to the Old City and beautiful historical shuls. He seemed like a pretty typical, secular Israeli, but seeing his appreciation for Jerusalem was really inspiring. The conversation with him was a nice reminder of why I love this city, and walking around exploring was a great way to spend the morning enjoying the nice weather. Now I'm just waiting for our friend to need another trial run so I can explore even more of this amazing city I call home.

 

...I looked up to see a huge aquarium coming at me.

I work in an ecology lab.  We study birds, but a trademark of just about everyone in the lab is an unbounded  love for animals.  Last month, the entryway of our building was remodeled.  We got a new aquarium and a few display cases for some skulls, sells, fossils, and skeletons.  There was one question though: what to do with the old aquarium.

Before...Filthy.  The fire hose is coming in for the rescue...

The old aquarium was a disgusting thing that I had never really looked at.  I wasn't sure if there were fish inside or just a few plants, moldy-looking sand, and dirty, brown water.  Lo and behold, there were fish in the tank, and these fish weren't "pretty enough" for the new aquarium in our new entryway.  Because we are animal lovers, our lab somehow became responsible for preventing the demise of the fish in the old tank.  I, being less involved in department things, as I am still relatively new, was in my office for most of this day- (entire day-) long discussion.  Suddenly, I heard a terrible screeching noise.  It was so Israeli when I popped my head out of my room and was shocked to see a huge, mostly empty (water was removed to make moving easier) aquarium, table and all, coming at me.

My office was not the original destination of the tank, but after finding that it wouldn't fit in the proposed location, it ended up in our room, a dirty, sad fish tank.  I went back to work while discussion continued, and the next time I looked up, there was a fire hose being pulled through the door.  The tank was filled, and the water started to clear the slightest bit.  Each day, the tank got a new addition: oxygen, a filter, new plants, rocks, a super-strong magnet to clean the glass, etc.  And each day, the fish got prettier.  They went from dull to bright and patterned with stripes and colored spots, and since they have been moved to our room, not a single one has died.  (Apparently they had been dying at a rate of at least one fish per day.)

The fish tank, while not completely clear, is on it's way to beauty.  Our fish are much healthier, and they are really starting to develop unique behaviors.  One fish, in particular, has taken to guarding a large rock on the left side of the tank; that is why most of the fish can be seen on the right side, away from his aggressive behavior.  Another result of our efforts is that the clean glass has a mirror effect, and it is quite a show to watch the fish interact not only with one another but also with themselves.  It is definitely distracting to have the fish with us, but it is also relaxing and fun.  Hopefully with care, and an eventual division of the fish into a second aquarium (to eliminate crowding), they will continue to thrive and maybe even reproduce.  Fun fact: These fish carry their eggs in their mouths until hatching.

After: Mirror-y with a concentration of fish on the right side...

...Purim overtook the entire country!

People always ask me why I moved here; how I deal with the low wages and high cost of living; why I chose a war-torn, unsafe country; how I survive without air conditioning in the summer, how I could leave my family and friends behind, and what I miss most about America.  I am almost never asked what I like most about being here.  When Israelis ask about my move, it is often with shock and disdain (that I would leave the cushy life of America).  They think that I am crazy.  Sometimes, I am met with admiration (also because I left a cushy life behind for something much more challenging).  Very rarely is news of my move met with contentment or understanding.  I can be admired for my move, yes, but many people can't fathom why I would choose to do something so hard.

Moving to a foreign country is hard.  I do get homesick sometimes.  Summers are hot and sweaty.  I am making less money than my friends in America.  I do stock up on a ton of clothes and goodies when I go home for a visit.  All of that is true.  But I don't realize it.  It isn't something I think about often.  It isn't something that particularly bothers me.  What I think about in Israel, despite how hard it is (in terms of language, bureaucracy, etc.) is how easy it is.  I have really good friends.  I have a life with weekly "activities."  I have favorite spots.

But there is something more than those things.  There is a feeling you get on a Friday afternoon in the shuk with the mad rush before Shabbat; the feeling when you ride the bus during Hanukka and pass hundreds of lit menorahs.  Most recently, it is the feeling of Purim.  In America you eat a little, drink a little, and dress up a little.  You make sure you hear megilla (the text read on the holiday), and you continue with your day.  In Israel it is a national holiday, and you really feel it.  Everyone is dressed up or talking about costumes, the markets and bakeries are bursting with hamentaschen (traditional triangular cookies), and hearing the megialla is a true experience.  This year, my friends and I went all out.  I was at a musical service and megilla reading at night with Disney tunes, some tunes from the Beatles, and a few other fun ones too.  It brought the holiday spirit of the country into the prayer service and was very festive and fitting.  Then I continued to another friend's apartment for some finishing touches to our costumes, and then we headed off to the shuk for a huge party.  There were Israelis, Anglos, religious people and secular people.  Everyone was dancing and having a good time.  And this was just one of the many parties to choose from.There were parties in town, in and around the Old City, in the various parks and public spaces, and at people's houses.

The next day throughout the city were Purim parties, activities for kids and families, and fundraising events. A group of men in our extended group of friends arranged a "Morning After" brunch, megilla reading, and charity auction for One Family, a local organization for overcoming acts of terror.  People within our community donated services (personal training session, cleaning services, lawyer services, dental check-up, etc.) to be auctioned, and together we raised about 15,000 shekels for the organization and another couple thousand for the needy in our community.  The fact that we did this in our community makes me proud to be hear.

 The day continued with a BBQ in the park.  We did it in costume, potluck style, and it was great.  We and the rest of Jerusalem celebrated a full 24+ hours, and the fact that that's normal here, and even expected, is why I live here.  The fact that Purim is just a given and that everyone can celebrate it and enjoy it is one of the reasons I truly love living here.  It feels like home because it is.

...my partner in crime...

It was so Israeli when I took Hebrew exams.  It was also one of the hardest experiences of my life.  Translating questions to English, thinking about them, answering them, and then finding the appropriate Hebrew multiple choice answer for the answer I had come up with in English is not easy.

It was so Israeli when some lady was getting her hair dyed outside the barber shop.  They were just chilling on the street corner. She was smoking, there was a dog near her feet, and he was dyeing her hair.

I was at the grocery store picking my line, and I thought I had picked a good one.  Someone else must have thought so too because he got in line behind me.  As the wait went on though, we realized that there were a line of carts in the row next to us with no people.  That is a relatively common thing here, but after about five minutes of waiting, the carts were still abandoned. He and I had looked at each other a few times throughout the wait.  With a final look and a smile I jumped ship and joined the line next to us, ahead of the abandoned carts.  It was so Israeli when he said he would stick up for me if the MIA shoppers came back. I had a partner in crime, and life was good.

My line progressed, and it was finally my turn.  The woman began ringing my things up before the person in front of me had finished bagging his groceries.  I am a pretty proficient bagger, but it's not just about the rate of bagging.  Placement is also important.  I had left a box of cereal (Kariot, literally pillows, but actually just amazing goodness) for then end.  When I looked up again though, it was gone.  It was so Israeli when the cashier told me it wasn't her problem that he took my cereal and that I had to pay for it anyways.  Needless to say the manager came over to mediate and the person behind me (yet another partner in crime) got involved too.  In the end, the cashier got reprimanded and I got my box of cereal.  And a yummy box of cereal it was!

...I missed my tomatoes!!!

So many tomatoes!!!

Since moving to Israel, I have loved shuk shopping.  I have eaten fruits and vegetables seasonally and taken their freshness for granted.  I grew up in Chicago, though, and there, I also ate fruits an vegetables.  Carrots and tomatoes were a staple in my diet.  (Mini carrots, the epitome of my childhood, have only recently become a thing here).  We had salad with dinner, and I had at least two fruits in my lunch.

On my most recent trip to visit my family, though, I was extremely disappointed with my vegetable options.  Everyone says the produce in Israel is better, but I had never been able to tell the difference.  Not only was it expensive.  Simply put, it was just bad.  I love tomatoes, but I didn't eat one the whole two weeks I was in town, and that wasn't for lack of trying.  I had become a spoiled Israeli used to fresh, good-tasting tomatoes.  It makes sense to me now why American salads are so heavily based on lettuce (the vegetables themselves don't taste good) and Israeli salads are not (our cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, etc. all taste so fresh and flavorful).

Upon landing I was grateful to be returning to a country of fresh veggies, fruits, and falafels!  I missed the berries of America--you can't find blackberries or raspberries here--but I was delighted by the tomatoes!

...she was wearing pink, striped, fuzzy...

I've been jet-setting (really just visiting family) for the past two weeks, and even though I was away from Israel, I didn't escape the Israelis.  When I travel, my ears always perk up at the sound of Hebrew, whether it's in the bathroom, on the plane, at a restaurant, or in an airport terminal.  I usually don't do anything besides smile a bit.  (My mom is an expert at initiating conversation with Israelis in foreign countries, but I didn't get that gene.)

My first flight from Israel was mostly Israelis, and surprisingly, my second flight to Florida was too.  One woman in particular stands out.  She spoke almost no English and was lugging around a ton of shopping bags.  It was so Israeli when I glanced down at her feet only to find fuzzy animal slippers.  I understand flying is exhausting and we all like to be a bit comfortable, but on the floor of the terminal?  Or at baggage claim after a domestic flight?  It made me smile and miss Israel just a bit.

My other flights weren't as Israeli.  I managed to find the one Israeli on my flight from Chicago to Toronto, and I guess he shares the gene my mother has because we chatted most of the five-hour layover before heading to Israel.  All in all, my flying was surprisingly pleasant. Just about all of my flights left on time, and a few even landed early; nothing was too full, and I slept and ate well.  Flying hasn't been that enjoyable since the 90s.

Now I am back to home and settled into exams.  I have been studying like a mad-woman and praying that my Hebrew is good enough to understand my multiple choice exam questions.  Wish me luck.  Hopefully nothing too Israeli happens this week because I need to pass these tests!

...she told me I could be a tooth...

I am going to America for a quick visit.  Here is a short funny for while I am gone.

Thanks for the teeth, Mom and Dad!!

The other day, I was sitting at the bus stop reading the news on my phone while waiting for my bus to come. A woman walking by stopped to ask me what all these young people on these phones are looking at all the time. I tried to explain that we are checking emails, texting friends, reading the news, etc. I realized how silly this must sound--that my generation cannot live without constant connection--and began to smile a bit at the thought.  Suddenly the woman switched gears from youth and phones to complimenting me on my smile. It was so Israeli when she wouldn't continue on her walk until she reiterated several times that I should really look into modeling in a dental commercial.  It made my day because I take my teeth seriously (and still where my retainer every night), but it also made me smile because it was so Israeli--to walk down the street, have a question, just ask it, and smoothly move onto something else entirely.  Luckily this transition was a compliment and not a reprimand for going out with wet hair.  I have had a few of those too.

...I voted!!

I was hoping election day wouldn't turn into an experience suited for a blog post, and to my surprise it didn't.  The process was very simple and straightforward.  I walked to my voting place, went to my assigned room, gave my ID and voters card, was given an envelope which I took behind a 3-fold display board, selected a piece of paper to put in it, and then placed it into a cardboard box with a slit in the middle and a menorah (the symbol of Israel) glued on the front.  In and out in five minutes!  Not so technologically advanced, but very simple and successful.  Oh an a national holiday with warm  (sandals) weather!

UPDATE:  It was an almost painless experience, except for the three phone calls I received within twenty minutes of each other around 5:00pm asking if I had voted yet or telling me to go vote.

UPDATE: And for a fourth one a bit after 7:00pm

...I dreamed in Hebrew...

Voter's Card

I hit the two year mark, I moved up four levels in ulpan, I finally received my voter's card in the mail (elections are next week, and I am voting!!), and to top it off, I had my first dream in Hebrew.  I have been waiting for this to happen, and when I least expected it (after an evening of English with lab mates) my wish came true.

My second year of life in Israel had a lot of other firsts.  Most of them were mentioned in previous posts, but I will give a bit of a summary of where I have come from, how I am feeling and where I am going.  Of course, we celebrated my aliya-versary with food and drink and friends--friends being the most important part.  I have made amazing friendships since moving to Israel, and however cliche it sounds, they are the reason I am still here.  I have found a family with whom to celebrate holidays and other simchas (joyous occasions).  I have found a group of girls with whom to have girls' night, watch trashy tv, and to go out to eat at a moments notice.  There has been board game playing, break-up ice cream, end-of work cheese eating,  an hour-long 90's sing-along, and a scavenger hunt (post on that coming soon...).  There have been shabbos meals, picnics, museum outings, and bar-be-ques.

Food

Drink

Friends

At a wedding.  We sang (read: screamed) 90s
 hits the whole way home...from Tel Aviv, Yafo.

It has been a busy year, and I have accomplished all of the goals I set for myself.  I improved my Hebrew (ulpan, Israeli roommates and friends); I continued to explore Jerusalem/Israeli culture (museums, concerts, shows, festivals); I sorted out my future (Movement Ecology Lab for the foreseeable future); I kept up with my blog (an average of four posts per month); and I got over my irrational fear of cats (I still don't like them, but progress nonetheless).

All in all, the year has been a good one: friends, graduate school, and tons of adventures (in and outside of Jerusalem).  I have done things I never thought I would (worked with vultures, drove a cherry picker, seen real snow in Jerusalem).  I have experienced things I hoped I never would (tzeva adom--emergency siren--in Jersualem, Operation Pillar of Defense in Gaza).  I finished some things (wiping kids tushies--i.e. preschool, my internship at the GZA), and started others (researching, taking classes in Hebrew, watching TV).  I met amazing (influential, famous, etc) people both in my lab, at Hebrew University, and from around the world.  And most importantly of all, I still feel unbelievably settled and at peace in this country.  Whenever I leave to visit America, I get antsy, and as soon as my plane arrives here, I let out a sigh of relief and feel a physical unwinding...a feeling in my gut.  I may not be Israeli through and through (yet), but I love it here, and I can't wait to see what my next year has to bring!

...I woke up to a white winter wonderland...

Two years ago today, I arrived in Israel.  Not on a 10 day trip, not on a 9 months gap year, not to volunteer for a couple of months, but to live here, as an Israeli.  There were some things I was nervous about (my Hebrew), some things I would miss (Sunday mornings with my family) and some things I wouldn't (cold, wintry weather).  This week has been wintry by Israeli standards.  Lots of rain and wind.  Last night, though, it started to snow.  This light dusting, though rare, was still within the realm of winter weather in Israel.  This morning, though, felt like waking up in Chicago.  Everything was white.  I never thought I would have to wake up to something like that again, but it was amazing to see.  I didn't dread the weather because I didn't have to go outside in it and freeze--everything was cancelled today.  It didn't get black and ugly, either, because nobody drives here when it snows.  It was peaceful and beautiful, and oddly ironic that I was in a winter wonderland in Israel.

I should probably write a reflective blog post for my aliyah-versary: make comparisons to last year's post, and see where my life has take me.  I will, but not today because today is a lazy snow day...and a real one, mind you; not just a light dusting that scared everyone silly.  (Yesterday, though, class was preemptively canceled from 4pm despite the fact that no snow had started to fall--so Israeli, so silly.)

Snow on the roof of the lab

Holy cow; it's actually snowing.

Wow.  It's good snow!

Let's go outside and play...

 

Snow!!

Well, good morning!

Still snowing!!