Maybe some of you older olim can help me with this, but my first trip home has been an emotional roller coaster. I'm super happy and excited one minute, I'm sad about leaving the next, I'm super homesick for Israel the next, and I just feel in emotional limbo at the moment.
My flight home leaves Friday, weather permitting, since there is a massive snow and ice storm that will be rolling through the area and the area of my first connecting flight starting Thursday. Strange enough, I'm not happy with the prospect of staying later or the prospect of leaving earlier because, somewhere in my twisted brain, I have it figured out that Friday is the "sweet spot." Not too little, not too much. Goldie Lock's "just right." I blamed it on the prospect of missing more school when being weepy to my patient and amazing boyfriend earlier, but it's much deeper than that.
When I'm not in Israel, I'm not completely myself...perhaps my healthy self is more accurate to say. My stomach is messed up because I'm not used to the heavy and gut-punching American food anymore. My brain is all scrambled because I'm not with my adopted family(s) who have become such an integral part of my everyday life. My body is beyond jacked up seeing as how I'm on the two week mark of being in the States, and I'm still jet lagged and finding myself tired at all the wrong times.
When I'm not in Arkansas, I'm constantly worried about my parents, my two loving lifelines who mean the world to me. I miss Mexican and Thai and Indian food. I miss my dear American friends. And at this particular moment, I'm stuck between those two worlds, longing to be in Israel but already missing Arkansas (or more correctly, the people who mean something to me since we established in an earlier post that I could very well do without this small town mentality). How do you deal when you feel like you're about to be torn in two again?
You deal with it with a smile knowing that you, and only you, have been the one to make it possible to live in such a way, having found yourself two different worlds and homes on this vast Earth. And you're proud of that fact. You busted it to be able to buy a ticket and come home to show those close to you how much you love them and to just simply (and importantly) be with them. And you get to return to the place where you feel the best and continue on with the beautiful life you've built with pride and support coming at you from all sides.
I guess this is truly summing up what it means to be an Arkansan Israeli, a citizen and lover of both places. Pretty amazing. So, here's yours truly, "Confused Israeli in Arkansas, Soon to Be Confused Arkansan in Israel," awaiting the balance to be restored. But more thankful than ever for the life I have.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Monday, November 25, 2013
Why You (yes, you, that small town Jewish kid) Should Make Aliyah
Living in Israel has had quite an amazing affect on my life. I'm healthier - not a regular smoker, exercising more frequently, and eating a lot better. I'm happier - I've let go of a lot of pain, am in the process of healing, and have found my place in this world with the most beautiful adopted family by my side. I'm more successful (even if less wealthy) - I've started my masters degree, I'm teaching English and dancing to kids, and I am totally self-sufficient without a cent of debt.
But wait, where's the religious part? You would think that moving to the "Holy Land" would push this aspect to the forefront of everything. Many of you who know me remember that for the 5 to 6 years following up to making aliyah, I became quite traditional in my Jewishness. I wore a lot of skirts and dresses. I kept strict Kosher. And for awhile, I kept Shabbat, not working/driving/cooking/etc./etc. from Friday night sundown to Saturday night sundown. All the while, I felt like I was fulfilling some unwritten code of small town Jewry about keeping the customs and the religion alive. It was my duty to stand apart and my duty to be different and my duty to keep these traditions in order to be Jewish. And it worked for quite some time. I suffered, and I struggled, and I wrestled with my beliefs and my feelings. But all the while, something way down deep was not satisfied at all.
Coming to Israel, I thoroughly expected to deepen in my religiousness. What I didn't expect was to deepen in my spirituality and my humanity while losing so much of the traditional chains that bound me so tightly (not just to Judaism, but that wound me up and suffocated me, as well). Am I still Jewish? Heck yes. But it's a different form of Judaism. It's the focus on family, it's the charity and the giving, it's the culture. So, while I may not worry if a restaurant has a Kosher certificate or if there is cheese on my hamburger anymore, I've never felt more Jewish in my life. Everyone has their own definitions of what it is to be Jewish, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I can be Jewish in the way that I need to be, not in the way that Judaism needs me to be.
I was a little scared of coming back home and feeling as if I would get lost in the crowd because I'm not the traditional Jew I used to be. In fact, it is quite the opposite. I feel more self-secure and powerful than ever. Being Jewish is so natural for me now, and I don't have to depend on stringent traditions to define me as a Jew.
That's why I suggest that small town Jews make aliyah...to discover their Judaism instead of having Judaism dictate what it should be to them. You may find that you strengthen your religious ties and that you're opened up to another, vaster world of Judaism, one where you don't fight to find Kosher food, where you don't have to beg to be off of work for Shabbat and Jewish holidays, and one where your religious connection sores. You may have a similar experience to mine and become a completely different type of Jew. Or you may have any number of amazing experiences along the spectrum. But I'll tell you, when you come back to the States and you feel that difference between living in a Jewish country and functioning in a non-Jewish country, it'll definitely get you thinking differently about your Jewish life. (It could be that Israel isn't for you, but just for the eye-opening experience of how Judaism works in your life, it's worth giving the Israeli life a try for a few years.)
So, in honor of the miracle of Channukah (a mere three days away!), I'll toast to the miracle of finding my Jewish self. L'chaim!
But wait, where's the religious part? You would think that moving to the "Holy Land" would push this aspect to the forefront of everything. Many of you who know me remember that for the 5 to 6 years following up to making aliyah, I became quite traditional in my Jewishness. I wore a lot of skirts and dresses. I kept strict Kosher. And for awhile, I kept Shabbat, not working/driving/cooking/etc./etc. from Friday night sundown to Saturday night sundown. All the while, I felt like I was fulfilling some unwritten code of small town Jewry about keeping the customs and the religion alive. It was my duty to stand apart and my duty to be different and my duty to keep these traditions in order to be Jewish. And it worked for quite some time. I suffered, and I struggled, and I wrestled with my beliefs and my feelings. But all the while, something way down deep was not satisfied at all.
Coming to Israel, I thoroughly expected to deepen in my religiousness. What I didn't expect was to deepen in my spirituality and my humanity while losing so much of the traditional chains that bound me so tightly (not just to Judaism, but that wound me up and suffocated me, as well). Am I still Jewish? Heck yes. But it's a different form of Judaism. It's the focus on family, it's the charity and the giving, it's the culture. So, while I may not worry if a restaurant has a Kosher certificate or if there is cheese on my hamburger anymore, I've never felt more Jewish in my life. Everyone has their own definitions of what it is to be Jewish, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I can be Jewish in the way that I need to be, not in the way that Judaism needs me to be.
I was a little scared of coming back home and feeling as if I would get lost in the crowd because I'm not the traditional Jew I used to be. In fact, it is quite the opposite. I feel more self-secure and powerful than ever. Being Jewish is so natural for me now, and I don't have to depend on stringent traditions to define me as a Jew.
That's why I suggest that small town Jews make aliyah...to discover their Judaism instead of having Judaism dictate what it should be to them. You may find that you strengthen your religious ties and that you're opened up to another, vaster world of Judaism, one where you don't fight to find Kosher food, where you don't have to beg to be off of work for Shabbat and Jewish holidays, and one where your religious connection sores. You may have a similar experience to mine and become a completely different type of Jew. Or you may have any number of amazing experiences along the spectrum. But I'll tell you, when you come back to the States and you feel that difference between living in a Jewish country and functioning in a non-Jewish country, it'll definitely get you thinking differently about your Jewish life. (It could be that Israel isn't for you, but just for the eye-opening experience of how Judaism works in your life, it's worth giving the Israeli life a try for a few years.)
So, in honor of the miracle of Channukah (a mere three days away!), I'll toast to the miracle of finding my Jewish self. L'chaim!
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Will Home Ever Be Home Again?
I've been home for 4.5 days, and while I have thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my parents and seeing/planning to see many dear friends, I am feeling extremely alienated here in my small hometown. Running into people is fun, for sure, with the excited squeals of "WOW, you're back!" and "You look amazing!" (30 pounds down will do it). And being here during Thanksgiving/Christmas time is also refreshing and exciting and something I don't get back in Israel. But, it just doesn't feel right anymore. Old scars pop back out. The past is no longer the past. And all that healing and growing you've so carefully cultivated seems to come undone just a little bit.
For instance, I saw someone yesterday who asked how married life was (she's about two years behind on the gossip). I very bluntly told her that I was divorced and that it had been a really terrible situation. She continued badgering me about life and how things are now, but I couldn't shake that dirty feeling of being reminded of that part of my history. And from the looks of the other party-goers, they couldn't either. The fake smiles laced with judgmental tendencies really tore away a little bit of my excitement of being here.
So, that brings me to my question - will home ever be home again? I've had a hard time of saying, "I'm home," and have instead opted for, "I'm in Arkansas." For me, Israel is my home now. I feel 100% at ease there with the beautiful life I've built. Free of judgement about the past (and that's even with all my near and dear ones knowing the past and loving and accepting me). Free of stigma. And complete honesty, warmth, love, and directness. It is a rather sad notion feeling that your home will never be your home again, but there's also something welcoming about the fact that home can be where you make it and where you need it to be.
I also have to keep the words of my ever-brilliant boyfriend and source of unconditional support in mind: "I'd like you to travel home carrying not only my pride in your heart, but more importantly yours. For making a home of a strange place, empowering friends, taking care of yourself, and having fun. Feel proud!" And I am. I can hold my head up high and say that I have definitely chosen the right path for me. And even if it is hard being away from Mom and Dad, I know that I've built the home that I needed to build and that it just keeps getting better.
Next up, why all small town Jews should make aliyah. Interesting observations on the way...
For instance, I saw someone yesterday who asked how married life was (she's about two years behind on the gossip). I very bluntly told her that I was divorced and that it had been a really terrible situation. She continued badgering me about life and how things are now, but I couldn't shake that dirty feeling of being reminded of that part of my history. And from the looks of the other party-goers, they couldn't either. The fake smiles laced with judgmental tendencies really tore away a little bit of my excitement of being here.
So, that brings me to my question - will home ever be home again? I've had a hard time of saying, "I'm home," and have instead opted for, "I'm in Arkansas." For me, Israel is my home now. I feel 100% at ease there with the beautiful life I've built. Free of judgement about the past (and that's even with all my near and dear ones knowing the past and loving and accepting me). Free of stigma. And complete honesty, warmth, love, and directness. It is a rather sad notion feeling that your home will never be your home again, but there's also something welcoming about the fact that home can be where you make it and where you need it to be.
I also have to keep the words of my ever-brilliant boyfriend and source of unconditional support in mind: "I'd like you to travel home carrying not only my pride in your heart, but more importantly yours. For making a home of a strange place, empowering friends, taking care of yourself, and having fun. Feel proud!" And I am. I can hold my head up high and say that I have definitely chosen the right path for me. And even if it is hard being away from Mom and Dad, I know that I've built the home that I needed to build and that it just keeps getting better.
Next up, why all small town Jews should make aliyah. Interesting observations on the way...
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
So, It's Been a Year...Thoughts on My First Aliyahversary
Friends, today marks exactly one year of me being Israeli! Happy Aliyah-versary to me! (The word "aliyah" is a specific term for when a Jew immigrates to Israel...it also has other meanings connected to that, but just to keep you in the know.)
What a year it has been. Let's do a quick recap so I can wrap my own head around it, how about?
October 2012 - arrived in Israel with dog in tow and my life shoved into four suitcases. This was, of course, after spending a full day in Manhattan with 8 of my best friends who traveled from Arkansas, Boston, Princeton, Washington DC, and various parts of NYC to see me. I also met my "Israeli family" on one of the most fun nights of my life. Shout out to Artur, Meirav, Anat, Noam, and Ricky for loving and taking such good care of me. <3
November 2012 - heard my first air raid siren the same day I was supposed to start my intensive Hebrew classes, therefore postponing the start of my classes. Heard another air raid siren. Met fun friends in Tel Aviv and then had to scramble back to Be'er Sheva to try and escape the impending war, only to be stuck outside for the beginning of the fireworks. Survived said war with a fair amount of PTSD. Danced on a bar...twice. You know, to establish balance in my life.
December 2012 - celebrated a yummy Channukah...the first holiday I got to experience in Israel! Went out A LOT, having a great time with my adopted family and learning the night life of B7. Enjoyed the hell out of it all.
January 2013 - Cassie came to visit! My first international visitor. We tore up the sites...accidentally drove through the West Bank...and both got super sick. Survived the worst winter in 50 years here...it rained so hard that my living room almost flooded! Then, I voted in my first Israeli elections. Very cool to have that experience basically right off the plane!
February 2013 - finished my intensive Hebrew classes, getting a perfect score on my oral exam and an insanely high score on my written exam...and then I just suddenly felt lost because, I didn't have any school anymore.
March 2013 - my first birthday here in Israel...Tals came to visit, and everyone made me feel extremely special and loved. Started working at my first Israeli job...in Hebrew. Was terrified, but hey, jumping in face first is sometimes the way to go. Applied for grad school.
April 2013 - Passover happened, and I ate more than I ever have in my life. Thank goodness I also started biking back in March, or I would be one large momma by now...also celebrated my first Israeli Independence Day, something I've been waiting to do for YEARS. It lived up to expectations, for sure. Also helped open H&M in B7, so that was rather thrilling and exciting to be a part of that whole process...in Hebrew. Took an exam as the second step in the grad school application process.
May 2013 - Life continued, I started missing home a bit more, continued working, continued loving every minute of it all.
June 2013 - was traumatic. Pepper, my adorable princess pug who was my strength and support for so long, got sick very suddenly and passed away. My world was upside down, and I honestly didn't know how to cope with this loss. I was very fortunate to have so many beautiful friends who wrapped around me and held me up through this difficult time. Magically and rather suddenly got accepted to grad school, mid-application process. Got offered a job teaching English in a fun summer program. Reaffirmed that most Israeli guys are pieces of dirt...and I somehow kept a smile on during most of this confusing mess. It was quite the month.
July 2013 - started teaching English lessons and even got my first private student! Let the tide sweep me along with work and going out and having a great time, and BOOM! I met my amazing, sweet, supportive, charming, handsome, thoughtful, intelligent, talented boyfriend. Yeah, that was unexpected and totally swept me off my feet. I'm not complaining...:)
August 2013 - got more private students. Got really busy. Work, teach, work, prep for school, somehow continue to take care of myself. Lol, which I really didn't take care of myself...Yagel definitely made that happen. Constantly reminded of how lucky I am.
September 2013 - HOLIDAYS! I got to experience the High Holidays here in Israel...and it was magical and fun and finally everything I have ever wanted. Bought a ticket to go home and see my parents in November...because, you know, it's about time. Ate more and more...went to the beach some...slipped deeper into exhaustion from so much work and play...
October 2013 - went to orientation for grad school (which starts NEXT WEEK)...started converting my American drivers' license to an Israeli one...bought concert tickets to Justin Timberlake AND a plane ticket to Amsterdam (going with the best group of people EVER)...am applying for my Israeli passport...and sitting here totally in shock at where my life has gone in the past year.
One year ago today, I stepped off a plane in the desert, not knowing what to expect. One year later, I can easily and happily say that I am at the best place in my life ever. My amazing experiences keep continuing, and I keep growing and progressing. Y'all, I can bank and study and work and survive in Hebrew! I can take care of myself in a different country...my country. It's such a cool thing to be Israeli and to explore the opportunities that I have been given. And now, I have permission from myself to start writing my book, all about my first year as a young, independent, female moving her entire life to Israel...and how everything just keeps getting better. As if I'm not busy enough. ;P Or, for Artur, in honor of Pepper...P; Sending much love and gratitude to you all. Here's to the start of another AMAZING year!
What a year it has been. Let's do a quick recap so I can wrap my own head around it, how about?
October 2012 - arrived in Israel with dog in tow and my life shoved into four suitcases. This was, of course, after spending a full day in Manhattan with 8 of my best friends who traveled from Arkansas, Boston, Princeton, Washington DC, and various parts of NYC to see me. I also met my "Israeli family" on one of the most fun nights of my life. Shout out to Artur, Meirav, Anat, Noam, and Ricky for loving and taking such good care of me. <3
November 2012 - heard my first air raid siren the same day I was supposed to start my intensive Hebrew classes, therefore postponing the start of my classes. Heard another air raid siren. Met fun friends in Tel Aviv and then had to scramble back to Be'er Sheva to try and escape the impending war, only to be stuck outside for the beginning of the fireworks. Survived said war with a fair amount of PTSD. Danced on a bar...twice. You know, to establish balance in my life.
December 2012 - celebrated a yummy Channukah...the first holiday I got to experience in Israel! Went out A LOT, having a great time with my adopted family and learning the night life of B7. Enjoyed the hell out of it all.
January 2013 - Cassie came to visit! My first international visitor. We tore up the sites...accidentally drove through the West Bank...and both got super sick. Survived the worst winter in 50 years here...it rained so hard that my living room almost flooded! Then, I voted in my first Israeli elections. Very cool to have that experience basically right off the plane!
February 2013 - finished my intensive Hebrew classes, getting a perfect score on my oral exam and an insanely high score on my written exam...and then I just suddenly felt lost because, I didn't have any school anymore.
March 2013 - my first birthday here in Israel...Tals came to visit, and everyone made me feel extremely special and loved. Started working at my first Israeli job...in Hebrew. Was terrified, but hey, jumping in face first is sometimes the way to go. Applied for grad school.
April 2013 - Passover happened, and I ate more than I ever have in my life. Thank goodness I also started biking back in March, or I would be one large momma by now...also celebrated my first Israeli Independence Day, something I've been waiting to do for YEARS. It lived up to expectations, for sure. Also helped open H&M in B7, so that was rather thrilling and exciting to be a part of that whole process...in Hebrew. Took an exam as the second step in the grad school application process.
May 2013 - Life continued, I started missing home a bit more, continued working, continued loving every minute of it all.
June 2013 - was traumatic. Pepper, my adorable princess pug who was my strength and support for so long, got sick very suddenly and passed away. My world was upside down, and I honestly didn't know how to cope with this loss. I was very fortunate to have so many beautiful friends who wrapped around me and held me up through this difficult time. Magically and rather suddenly got accepted to grad school, mid-application process. Got offered a job teaching English in a fun summer program. Reaffirmed that most Israeli guys are pieces of dirt...and I somehow kept a smile on during most of this confusing mess. It was quite the month.
July 2013 - started teaching English lessons and even got my first private student! Let the tide sweep me along with work and going out and having a great time, and BOOM! I met my amazing, sweet, supportive, charming, handsome, thoughtful, intelligent, talented boyfriend. Yeah, that was unexpected and totally swept me off my feet. I'm not complaining...:)
August 2013 - got more private students. Got really busy. Work, teach, work, prep for school, somehow continue to take care of myself. Lol, which I really didn't take care of myself...Yagel definitely made that happen. Constantly reminded of how lucky I am.
September 2013 - HOLIDAYS! I got to experience the High Holidays here in Israel...and it was magical and fun and finally everything I have ever wanted. Bought a ticket to go home and see my parents in November...because, you know, it's about time. Ate more and more...went to the beach some...slipped deeper into exhaustion from so much work and play...
October 2013 - went to orientation for grad school (which starts NEXT WEEK)...started converting my American drivers' license to an Israeli one...bought concert tickets to Justin Timberlake AND a plane ticket to Amsterdam (going with the best group of people EVER)...am applying for my Israeli passport...and sitting here totally in shock at where my life has gone in the past year.
One year ago today, I stepped off a plane in the desert, not knowing what to expect. One year later, I can easily and happily say that I am at the best place in my life ever. My amazing experiences keep continuing, and I keep growing and progressing. Y'all, I can bank and study and work and survive in Hebrew! I can take care of myself in a different country...my country. It's such a cool thing to be Israeli and to explore the opportunities that I have been given. And now, I have permission from myself to start writing my book, all about my first year as a young, independent, female moving her entire life to Israel...and how everything just keeps getting better. As if I'm not busy enough. ;P Or, for Artur, in honor of Pepper...P; Sending much love and gratitude to you all. Here's to the start of another AMAZING year!
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Reader's Choice
Hello, my dear readership. I hope you're all well. We're still hanging in there, starting off our new week here in Israel (remember, our week starts on Sunday, with the weekend being Friday and Saturday due to the Jewish Sabbath falling on Saturday). I should be getting ready for my hectic, pre-Rosh Hashanah work week, but instead, I'm reaching out to y'all. I really want to write a post answering questions you may have about my life here. From food and romance to language and culture. Anything goes! So, either comment on this post with your question or email it to me at turner.megane@gmail.com. I look forward to hearing from you very soon! Lots of love, Megan
Friday, August 30, 2013
What I Have in My House (in Israel) that You Don't...
No doubt that life here is much different than life in America. And no doubt that I'm loving every minute of it. Even the hard and the scary times because, well, this is my home. With the imminent US strike on Syria, you can definitely feel the buzz of running to get prepared for whatever may come in air, and it really got me to thinking about what I have in my house now that I would NEVER have in my house back home in Arkansas. So, here's a humorous yet realistic rundown of my phat, war-prepped pad in the B7.
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Exhibit A: Milk in a bag. I've been obsessed with this odd commodity since the first time I lived here in 2006. I like milk in a bag. Hell, I love milk in a bag, and it's cheaper than milk in a carton. Boo to the yeah. If whatever impending doom is anything like last time, however, it'll take me an hour to make a cup of coffee and use this heavenly liquid between trips to the bomb shelter.
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Exhibit B: Gas mask in a box. Including my very own Epipen in the event that I inhale any noxious chemical/biological warfare fumes (update - this is NOT included in my kit...read that in the news not too long ago...eep!). It's even got a nifty, thick plastic strap which I assume is a sign that it was designed to be carried around like a purse for those of us who might be more panicked than others. I felt super uneasy having this under my bed the first few nights it lived there, but now it's just another thing that collects dirt, dust, and sand. I'm REALLY hoping I don't have to figure out how to strap on a gas mask in the coming days.
Exhibit C: My bedroom, the bomb shelter. You can see my reinforced door and the metal sheet over my window. Definitely not something I thought I would ever use (oh, to be naive once again!), but something I am ever thankful for having. It is a bit frustrating that the walls are super thick slabs of concrete and are therefore really troublesome for hanging pictures and whatnot and that the only place I get internet on the computer is right by the door, but those are small prices to pay for this safety commodity. I did recently find myself joking to a friend, "If you need a mamad (bomb shelter), you know where the party's at!" After I said it, I felt really weird even having joked about it. All part of the process of becoming Israeli.
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Exhibit D: Just a portion of the package of toilet paper I am required to buy here in Israel. They don't sell packages with less than 478014 rolls, and you are therefore stocked for about a year at at time. In all seriousness, the standard pack comes with about 50 rolls and comes up to my waist. Remember, I don't have a car, so I either bike or walk to the grocery store and must lug this thing home. I can use the pack kind of like a cane, and I always feel overwhelmed when it's all stacked up in my bathroom. Remember, again, that I live in a small place with not a lot of storage, which makes the volume even more overwhelming for me. Good thing I'm stocked up in case I accidentally shit my pants from the stress of this looming attack...
Exhibit E: A fairly typical news headline for me. Stay calm, folks. Ain't nothin' to worry about here! Everyone needs to get their gas mask, but don't panic (I got mine back in January, so I've been prepared). Hospitals need to take emergency precautions, but don't panic. Soldiers in the North aren't allowed to go home for the weekend and reserve soldiers have been called up, but don't panic. The government has moved Iron Dome missile defense system to quite a few locations in the north/center and even Patriot missile systems, but don't panic. In all fairness, I'm not panicked, but I am on edge. You can feel that buzz in the air which is really oddly juxtaposed to the festive atmosphere of the upcoming Jewish New Year. People are buying up a ton of food for the long holiday and the lavish meals and swinging by the post office to pick up their gas masks and picking up a few other emergency items along the way. But, you know, we do just keep going, and we stick together, and we do it with our heads held high. Friggin' proud to be Israeli, fo sho.
Exhibit F: Ahhhhhh, and one of my favorite things, I have this view. My beautiful desert garden with cacti and a hammock and birds and colorful flowers. I have a window that happily looks out on it all with my proud Israeli flag (which I bought in 2005 and have subsequently dragged to every place I've ever lived since). These beautiful things, among others, make living here so worth it.
I hope you've enjoyed your little tour of my domicile. Yes, I have a gas mask under my bed, and I sleep in a bomb shelter, but I also live in one of the most lively, dynamic, progressive places in the world. I wouldn't change it for anything. I should, however, go clean my house and finish stocking up on food in the event that I do have guests in the bomb shelter...a true possibility. Sending everyone wishes of rest, fun, and most importantly, peace and quiet, on this Shabbat.
Exhibit B: Gas mask in a box. Including my very own Epipen in the event that I inhale any noxious chemical/biological warfare fumes (update - this is NOT included in my kit...read that in the news not too long ago...eep!). It's even got a nifty, thick plastic strap which I assume is a sign that it was designed to be carried around like a purse for those of us who might be more panicked than others. I felt super uneasy having this under my bed the first few nights it lived there, but now it's just another thing that collects dirt, dust, and sand. I'm REALLY hoping I don't have to figure out how to strap on a gas mask in the coming days.
I hope you've enjoyed your little tour of my domicile. Yes, I have a gas mask under my bed, and I sleep in a bomb shelter, but I also live in one of the most lively, dynamic, progressive places in the world. I wouldn't change it for anything. I should, however, go clean my house and finish stocking up on food in the event that I do have guests in the bomb shelter...a true possibility. Sending everyone wishes of rest, fun, and most importantly, peace and quiet, on this Shabbat.
Monday, July 15, 2013
What's Next?
That's a fairly profound question but one that I have been asking myself a lot lately. So much has changed recently, and I have these huge question marks floating around in my head. There's nothing much to complain about, but the uncertainty is startling.
Exciting news is that I got accepted to Ben Gurion University's Masters of Social Work program which starts in October. Scary part of that is...well, there's a lot. First of all, all the classes are in Hebrew (with the exception of a few taught by the department head who is American and who refuses to teach in Hebrew...I'll be signing up for A LOT of his courses!). I realize that I'll manage. Hell, I've managed for this long, and I've not only survived, I've prospered. Yes, I shock myself daily with my abilities in a foreign language, but I also get frustrated daily when I get tongue tied and can't fully express myself. You really feel stupid, for lack of a better way to describe it, when you're first mastering a new language. You firstly start to lose your superior grasp of your mother tongue, forgetting common words that you just haven't used in awhile, and you secondly don't have enough traction in the new language to fully show who you are and display your level of intelligence. It is frustrating and humbling for someone like myself who has always been a "talker" and a "communicator." Which in its own way probably means that I'll be fine and that I just need to give myself time.
Second scary issue tied to uni is that of money. I'm very fortunate that the State of Israel will be paying for the vast majority of my degree program as part of my new immigrant benefits. However, this is a "retraining" program, meaning that I have to take a semester or two of bachelors level classes to complete my BA in Social Work. Two degrees for one? I'll take that. But that also means that the government won't pay for all of this first year. Also, even when they do pay for it, I have to pay for everything upfront and they reimburse me a couple of months later. What does that mean? I have to apply for student loans (in Hebrew), I have to find scholarships (in Hebrew), and I have to figure out how to balance a work schedule that will both allow me to study and allow me to eat and have a place to live. This is such a different situation from where I was a year ago. And I get that there are challenges in the beginning of any new adventure, but different money in a different language is super unsettling. Oh well, that's what the rest of my day is devoted to - figuring out finances for the next year and trying not to cry from the stress.
I have also started teaching English lessons. Through the great power of Israeli networking, I was introduced to someone from the Ministry of Education who has hired me as a teacher for summer school programs and who has also given me the opportunity to teach English private lessons. This is a huge breath of fresh air, as it's much more in line with what I want to be doing, and it's a much better use of my professional skills than selling clothes. I'm loving it, even if I did make a little brat cry last week in my class and even if it feels a little up in the air at this point as to what will happen once the school year starts.
All of this uncertainty and all of these question marks are directly impacting the thing that I want to do most at this point, which is visit home. I'm dying to be in Arkansas with my mom and dad and to see friends and to eat food that I miss and to be in my childhood home. At this point, I can only stay positive and hope that I can fly home at the end of September before classes start. Hell, I may just do it on a whim, like an Israeli, and figure out the consequences later. Which is probably what will happen.
And for now? It's off to the bank for a fun round of Israeli bureaucracy. I think I'll need a strong drink tonight, even though it is the "saddest day of the Jewish calendar" as we remember the destruction of the two Temples in Jerusalem. I mourn by drinking, as I have shown myself and the rest of the world this past month and a half. So, cheers to all, and get ready for our next post, all about the absurdities of working retail in Israel.
Exciting news is that I got accepted to Ben Gurion University's Masters of Social Work program which starts in October. Scary part of that is...well, there's a lot. First of all, all the classes are in Hebrew (with the exception of a few taught by the department head who is American and who refuses to teach in Hebrew...I'll be signing up for A LOT of his courses!). I realize that I'll manage. Hell, I've managed for this long, and I've not only survived, I've prospered. Yes, I shock myself daily with my abilities in a foreign language, but I also get frustrated daily when I get tongue tied and can't fully express myself. You really feel stupid, for lack of a better way to describe it, when you're first mastering a new language. You firstly start to lose your superior grasp of your mother tongue, forgetting common words that you just haven't used in awhile, and you secondly don't have enough traction in the new language to fully show who you are and display your level of intelligence. It is frustrating and humbling for someone like myself who has always been a "talker" and a "communicator." Which in its own way probably means that I'll be fine and that I just need to give myself time.
Second scary issue tied to uni is that of money. I'm very fortunate that the State of Israel will be paying for the vast majority of my degree program as part of my new immigrant benefits. However, this is a "retraining" program, meaning that I have to take a semester or two of bachelors level classes to complete my BA in Social Work. Two degrees for one? I'll take that. But that also means that the government won't pay for all of this first year. Also, even when they do pay for it, I have to pay for everything upfront and they reimburse me a couple of months later. What does that mean? I have to apply for student loans (in Hebrew), I have to find scholarships (in Hebrew), and I have to figure out how to balance a work schedule that will both allow me to study and allow me to eat and have a place to live. This is such a different situation from where I was a year ago. And I get that there are challenges in the beginning of any new adventure, but different money in a different language is super unsettling. Oh well, that's what the rest of my day is devoted to - figuring out finances for the next year and trying not to cry from the stress.
I have also started teaching English lessons. Through the great power of Israeli networking, I was introduced to someone from the Ministry of Education who has hired me as a teacher for summer school programs and who has also given me the opportunity to teach English private lessons. This is a huge breath of fresh air, as it's much more in line with what I want to be doing, and it's a much better use of my professional skills than selling clothes. I'm loving it, even if I did make a little brat cry last week in my class and even if it feels a little up in the air at this point as to what will happen once the school year starts.
All of this uncertainty and all of these question marks are directly impacting the thing that I want to do most at this point, which is visit home. I'm dying to be in Arkansas with my mom and dad and to see friends and to eat food that I miss and to be in my childhood home. At this point, I can only stay positive and hope that I can fly home at the end of September before classes start. Hell, I may just do it on a whim, like an Israeli, and figure out the consequences later. Which is probably what will happen.
And for now? It's off to the bank for a fun round of Israeli bureaucracy. I think I'll need a strong drink tonight, even though it is the "saddest day of the Jewish calendar" as we remember the destruction of the two Temples in Jerusalem. I mourn by drinking, as I have shown myself and the rest of the world this past month and a half. So, cheers to all, and get ready for our next post, all about the absurdities of working retail in Israel.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
This is That Post I've Been Dreading to Write
It's been a hot minute since y'all have heard from me in this venue, and I've been dreading this post. It's obvious that even when you're living the dream, there will be trying times, and the last two months have been the most trying thus far. I'm tempted to say in my entire life.
As most of you know, my dear, sweet, precious Princess Pepper died at the beginning of June. It was very sudden, and her kidneys just gave out due to old age. I was very lucky to spend an intimate last day with her, and I was even right next to her when she left me. I'm weeping now, and the post has barely begun. I can't describe the pain of losing my best friend, my security blanket, my source of unconditional love. She is still with me, I feel, but it is so weird and hard to be in my house without her. I still turn and look for her from time to time.
The first days after her death were the worst. I couldn't stay at home because of the silence. I missed hearing her little feet on the tile floor and her heavy pug breathing. I missed that face looking for me when I came home. I missed that warm body next to me at night. I'm still having a hard time sleeping without her, but things get a little easier each day.
This enormous personal tragedy really magnified for me the fact that I'm in a totally different world. It really shook me to realize that I am here alone alone now. I could always answer people with, "I'm not alone - I have my dog!" But now? I can't say that. My strongest connection to home was suddenly not with me, and I felt like I was floating out in space without any way to tangibly feel home. It's a scary feeling, but it's gradually becoming liberating in a way. It doesn't make things any easier, but now, I'm standing on my own two feet, completely by my own will. My only choice is to keep going and, as we say in Hebrew, to keep "doing/making life."
But, I totally learned that I'm anything but alone here. My friends here wrapped around me like family and showed me endless love and care. They came to hold me while I cried, they fed me, they got me out of the house. They called, they wrote. They did anything they could to support me, and I was showered in hugs and kisses. I knew these people here were special, but I didn't realize how much. The outpouring of love from people back home and around the world via Facebook-land also touched my heart. I didn't realize how many people knew of and loved Pepper. I'm a lucky, lucky human being, that's for sure.
And here I am now, embarking on a new adventure, without my partner in crime physically next to me. Her memory and her impact on my life will always be apparent, however. How can it not be? I'm blown away daily at how much a small, fat ball of fur changed my life forever. I'm also a little scared about introducing new people into my life because they won't feel the magic of Pepper. I hope I can bring her spirit and her character into me so that others can somehow understand just how special she was to me. I also hope that everyone can be as lucky as me and can experience this type of beautiful love that exists between a girl and her dog.
Much more to update on, and now that the hard part's over, maybe I can write more frequently. Love to you all.
As most of you know, my dear, sweet, precious Princess Pepper died at the beginning of June. It was very sudden, and her kidneys just gave out due to old age. I was very lucky to spend an intimate last day with her, and I was even right next to her when she left me. I'm weeping now, and the post has barely begun. I can't describe the pain of losing my best friend, my security blanket, my source of unconditional love. She is still with me, I feel, but it is so weird and hard to be in my house without her. I still turn and look for her from time to time.
The first days after her death were the worst. I couldn't stay at home because of the silence. I missed hearing her little feet on the tile floor and her heavy pug breathing. I missed that face looking for me when I came home. I missed that warm body next to me at night. I'm still having a hard time sleeping without her, but things get a little easier each day.
This enormous personal tragedy really magnified for me the fact that I'm in a totally different world. It really shook me to realize that I am here alone alone now. I could always answer people with, "I'm not alone - I have my dog!" But now? I can't say that. My strongest connection to home was suddenly not with me, and I felt like I was floating out in space without any way to tangibly feel home. It's a scary feeling, but it's gradually becoming liberating in a way. It doesn't make things any easier, but now, I'm standing on my own two feet, completely by my own will. My only choice is to keep going and, as we say in Hebrew, to keep "doing/making life."
But, I totally learned that I'm anything but alone here. My friends here wrapped around me like family and showed me endless love and care. They came to hold me while I cried, they fed me, they got me out of the house. They called, they wrote. They did anything they could to support me, and I was showered in hugs and kisses. I knew these people here were special, but I didn't realize how much. The outpouring of love from people back home and around the world via Facebook-land also touched my heart. I didn't realize how many people knew of and loved Pepper. I'm a lucky, lucky human being, that's for sure.
And here I am now, embarking on a new adventure, without my partner in crime physically next to me. Her memory and her impact on my life will always be apparent, however. How can it not be? I'm blown away daily at how much a small, fat ball of fur changed my life forever. I'm also a little scared about introducing new people into my life because they won't feel the magic of Pepper. I hope I can bring her spirit and her character into me so that others can somehow understand just how special she was to me. I also hope that everyone can be as lucky as me and can experience this type of beautiful love that exists between a girl and her dog.
Much more to update on, and now that the hard part's over, maybe I can write more frequently. Love to you all.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
The Perils of an Israeli Cyclist
Somehow, I got this idea that I wanted to cycle my way around Be'er Sheva instead of spending my money on a bus pass and on costly taxi rides. So, for my birthday, I bought myself a shiny pink bicycle with a basket and a rack on the back. I'll tell you, my body is mighty happy at this decision as I'm watching the weight just slide off and as my legs are getting strong enough to kill a man. My wallet is also happy, and I love the feeling of independence that it brings. There are drawbacks, however, and I'm ready to rant about them.
Here is my gorgeous bike, decorated for Israeli Independence Day.
My major beef is with pedestrians. I don't think people realize how stupidly they walk when strolling down a sidewalk. People don't walk in straight lines and are very unpredictable. They also prefer to walk directly in the middle of the sidewalk, regardless of how narrow or wide it may be. Now, I know that a lot of you will say, "But you shouldn't be riding your bike on the sidewalk." First of all, there is plenty of room to share the way. Second, if I didn't ride on the sidewalk, you would all be reading my obituary because I would already be dead from Israeli drivers. And third, my city is full of bikes, and bike paths are slowly being built - I just see at as I'm using these paths before they're ready. ;)
Okay, pedestrians. Their unpredictability and their sporadic behavior makes life for us cyclists a nightmare. I have this adorable bell on my bicycle which is really only effective at scaring cats and birds out of my way. I find myself ringing this bell ad nauseum, followed by my exasperated pleas of "slicha!" or "excuse me!" Lastly, I do my best to "think skinny" on the bike and squeeze past these ridiculous pedestrians, much to their panic as they realize I'm there (not like I wasn't making enough noise earlier). This exchange then ends in me saying something smartass and giving them an annoyed glare. So Israeli of me.
Now, there are some pedestrians who are worse than others. Let me say, you would be surprised at how much room a little old lady can take up on a sidewalk. I hate ringing my bell at them because I don't want to scare them, so I typically proceed with great caution. Somehow, though, they always end up exactly in my way, moving with me as I try to pass. It's like they know...
The second, and arguably most annoying, group needs some explanation. If you're Israeli, you know exactly the stereotype of arsim and frechot. For those who don't, I've found this hysterical video that explains the arsim stereotype, with a short cameo of who frechot are. Watch it before continuing.
Warning, I'm about to feed into a stereotype A LOT. Just be aware. So basically, you have these overly masculine, arrogant, slightly ignorant men, or arsim and these overly made-up, high pitched air heads who make up the female counterpart, or frechot. They typically travel in groups, too, which makes them even more dangerous. They knowingly won't move for a bicycle, and I've gotten very close to flattening a few over the past few weeks. The trick is to not give up your space and just keep going. It's like a constant game of chicken, wondering who's going to give in and move first. Thank goodness, the sheer heft on my bike gives me a significant advantage. I'm not gonna lie - I've considered making a game out of it and assigning points based on just how stereotypical my opponents are and how hard they are to get out of my way. I'm sure I'm getting a reputation as "that bitchy blonde girl on the bike."
Also, when you're on a bike, and I guess just in general in Israeli life, people really feel the need to give you their opinions about things, especially YOUR things. The most poignant example just happened to me yesterday. I was stopped at a stoplight, waiting to cross, and this taxi pulled into the turn lane with his window down because it was a GORGEOUS day. He promptly started talking to me and lecturing me on how I need to wear sunscreen if I'm going to be riding my bicycle around in the desert. I mean, I realize that I'm eggshell white, and it didn't help that I was wearing a dress with biking shorts underneath, exposing my transparent legs, but seriously? Also, guys think that if they compliment on how cute my bike is that I'll actually stop and talk to them. What, you've never seen a cute American in a dress on a bicycle before? Sometimes in heels, I might add. :)
And those are my current rants of being an Israeli cyclist. Amateur for sure, but I'm loving every minute of it. So, I need to go put on sunscreen and get ready for my next adventure. Until next time!
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Israeli Famous
As promised, here is a translation of the piece I wrote for the Channel 2 news here in Israel. If you want to see the original article in Hebrew, go to this link. Enjoy!
The First 6 Months
The First 6 Months
My first Yom Hatzmaut is quickly approaching, and I’m happy
to finally be here celebrating as an Israeli.
I’ve only been here half a year, but it feels like much longer. In this short amount of time, I have
experienced more than a lot of olim experience in their first ten years, and I
feel like I’m ready for just about anything.
So, let’s recap this “Year of Firsts”!
October 2012 – I landed at Ben Gurion airport and walked
into Israel for the first time as an Israeli.
Little did I know what would be waiting for me with this new identity…
Me in Jerusalem with my Teudat Zehut – officially Israeli!
October 28, 2012 – At 0530 in the morning, I experienced my first azaka (air raid siren) in my home of Be’er Sheva. Nothing prepares you for that piercing sound, especially when it wakes you from a dead sleep. I had no idea what was coming for me in just two short weeks…
November 2012 – I sang “Hatikva” for the first time as an Israeli at a Yithak Rabin memorial ceremony. I had chills all over and felt an overwhelming pride for my new country.
Me and the dog stuck in the Mamad, pretending we could actually sleep.
At a friend’s house, ready to run to the shelter in my cowboy boots. War makes you a little crazy.
December 2012 – For the first time, someone thought I was some nationality other than American. Lots of people try to speak Russian to me now, but that makes more sense than the guy at a club who thought I was Moroccan. When he didn’t believe me, I spoke to him in English with a good Southern accent, and he responded in Hebrew, “Why is this Moroccan pretending she can speak English?!”
In the voting booth.
February 2013 – I started getting more confident in my ability to speak Hebrew, and I made my first big fadicha with a tiny spelling mistake. Instead of writing: "אני חושבת שאקבל ציון גבוה" I wrote "זיון גבוה" (“I think I’ll get a high grade” but instead, I wrote, “high fuck”). I also randomly started to remember various Russian words instead of the Hebrew words. Let’s just say I got a 1 + 1 deal in my ulpan class.
Eating my FIRST mufletta at my FIRST mimuna!
The best friends (who I aptly named the chofrim) teaching me how to be Israeli.
Yom HaShoa 2013 – This day was more powerful than I ever thought it could be. I experienced my first siren (which I was panicked about because of my trauma from the war), and I was amazed at how an entire country can stand still to honor those lives lost in the Shoa. The respect Israelis have for this day was overwhelming and beautiful.
October 28, 2012 – At 0530 in the morning, I experienced my first azaka (air raid siren) in my home of Be’er Sheva. Nothing prepares you for that piercing sound, especially when it wakes you from a dead sleep. I had no idea what was coming for me in just two short weeks…
November 2012 – I sang “Hatikva” for the first time as an Israeli at a Yithak Rabin memorial ceremony. I had chills all over and felt an overwhelming pride for my new country.
November 14, 2012 – Not even a month in Israel, and I was in
the middle of my first war, Amud Anon.
There were lots of firsts with the war:
first time being stuck outside for an azaka, first time smelling and
feeling an explosion, first time doubting if I had made the right decision to
make aliyah. I also drove through the
“war zone” of the South and saw rockets explode in the sky like fireworks. I got stuck in a traffic jam that was caused
by a rocket that hit the road. And
finally, I successfully made my first schuna (in other words, we made a scene)
in Hertizliyah with other “Southern refugees,” acting crazy and getting a huge
discount on dinner because we were all from Be’er Sheva.
At a friend’s house, ready to run to the shelter in my cowboy boots. War makes you a little crazy.
December 2012 – For the first time, someone thought I was some nationality other than American. Lots of people try to speak Russian to me now, but that makes more sense than the guy at a club who thought I was Moroccan. When he didn’t believe me, I spoke to him in English with a good Southern accent, and he responded in Hebrew, “Why is this Moroccan pretending she can speak English?!”
January 2013 – This was a big month of firsts. I learned what a checkpoint looks like as I
drove right past it and into the West Bank accidentally. I also learned how scary it is to drive past
Hebron in the middle of the night, not knowing exactly when I was going to get
back into Israel.
When I returned the rental car that took me on the last
adventure, for the first time, I actually stood up for myself when the worker
told me I hadn’t put enough gas in the car.
I knew very well I had, and I’ve never felt more Israeli than when I
told him to go put gas in it himself.
January 21, 2013 – Some brilliant person thought it would be
a good idea to let me vote in a national election soon after making aliyah, so
that was another first. I proudly voted
for Yair Lapid after lots of research.
It didn’t hurt that he’s a hottie, and I also learned the Hebrew word
for “hunk” because of him.
In the voting booth.
February 2013 – I started getting more confident in my ability to speak Hebrew, and I made my first big fadicha with a tiny spelling mistake. Instead of writing: "אני חושבת שאקבל ציון גבוה" I wrote "זיון גבוה" (“I think I’ll get a high grade” but instead, I wrote, “high fuck”). I also randomly started to remember various Russian words instead of the Hebrew words. Let’s just say I got a 1 + 1 deal in my ulpan class.
March 2013 – I bought a bicycle for my birthday at the
beginning of March, and I’ve turned into an Israeli driver. A car cut me off the other day, and I threw
my hands up and screamed at him, ending my complaints with “ya maniac!”
I also started working in my first Israeli job at the end of
March in a clothing store. I’m still not
sure why men think it is okay to just try on clothes in the middle of the
store. I’ve seen more back hair and fat
than I ever thought I would in my whole life.
Gentlemen, there’s a dressing room for a reason! I’m walking out of the store the first time a
guy tries on pants on the sales floor.
April 2013 – Probably as a result of being tired from the
new job, I was in Aroma one morning, and I really wanted orange juice, but I
asked for a potato instead. I know,
these two words are not so close, but in my head, there is a connection.
Passover 2013 will be forever remembered as the first
Passover where I gained weight. We don’t
have the luxury of Kosher for Passover food in Arkansas, and so normally, this
week is one of suffering and dieting. This
year, I literally ate so much one day that I couldn’t comfortably eat for 27
hours, and another day I had to excuse myself from the table to go take a
nap.
Along with Passover came my first Mimuna. I have been excited about going to a Mimuna
since I learned that it even existed. Be
sure, I was not let down. Me and my
group of best friends went to a Mimuna all together, eating mufletta, singing
ridiculous songs, and learning how to kululululu.
Eating my FIRST mufletta at my FIRST mimuna!
The best friends (who I aptly named the chofrim) teaching me how to be Israeli.
Yom HaShoa 2013 – This day was more powerful than I ever thought it could be. I experienced my first siren (which I was panicked about because of my trauma from the war), and I was amazed at how an entire country can stand still to honor those lives lost in the Shoa. The respect Israelis have for this day was overwhelming and beautiful.
And next? My first
Yom Hatzmaut, exactly on my six month anniversary of making aliyah. I’m so excited to see what the next six
months has in store…
Friday, April 12, 2013
The Chills of Yom HaShoa
Yom HaShoa, Holocaust Remembrance Day. I definitely wasn't prepared for how powerful this day would be here in Israel. It's a different, more intense feeling, definitely because of the deep connection this country has to the horrors of the Holocaust and the triumphs of the Jewish people afterward. It has honestly been hard to get back to that feeling of profound sadness, and I've been dreading writing this, a bit, just because of how much it shook me.
I first started feeling the buzz of the day Sunday night. As I'm sure many of you know (or maybe I've mentioned it before), all of our holidays start at sundown the evening before. I had worked all day and had come home to crash before going to scavenge for food since I hadn't been grocery shopping. I took the dog on a walk with dreams of falafel dancing in my hungry head only to find everything closed up tight. Everything. Even the little convenience store that is open on Shabbat was closed. That's the first time it hit me just how heavy this holiday is for everyone here. I retreated to my house and cooked all that I had, plain chicken breast and spinach. Which, in retrospect, would have been a feast for a lot of people, especially those whose memories we were recalling. And now I'm feeling a bit guilty about complaining as much as I did.
I was a little panicked about the next morning because my friends had informed me that at 10am, there would be a two minute long siren to honor the memory of those lost in the Holocaust. This brought back horrible fears of the war and the constant sirens, but I was assured that this siren sounded different. I nervously watched the clock all morning, and when 10am came, the piercing siren started. However, this did not evoke a sense of fear in me but more, a sense of chilling realization. I stood at my window, trying to calm the frightened dog, and I watched as the street behind my house became empty as people actually stopped on the road to show respect. I reflected on why we were all stopping, and I was initially hit with a wave of sadness connected to this tragedy. But curiously, I was next hit with a sense of pride in that I am living proof that the Jewish people have succeeded and survived. I am here, living the dream, and continuing on the Jewish legacy. By living my life, by just being alive, I was honoring all those lives lost. The fact that I was finally living my life in a Jewish place and living to strengthen the nation of Israel was an even profounder way of honoring their memories. A lot passed through my head in those two minutes, obviously, but it was so powerful. Just to give you a taste, watch this video of how my country reacted to this siren and how they honored those 6 million lives. It's worth it to watch it all the way to the end and experience what we did.
I felt so proud of the fact that I am Israeli, and I watched as other new olim reacted to what they had also just experienced for the first time on Facebook. Pretty amazing stuff.
On a different note, there was also another feeling throughout that day. As I was waiting for my dinner to be done Sunday night, I got an alert on my phone saying that, yet again, there had been a rocket attack in Southern Israel. That mix of emotions was hard to take. The fear, the anger, the sadness, the cynicism, the almost hopelessness. What's worse is that it interrupted a Holocaust Remembrance ceremony...here's another video just to show you the reality of the situation. The woman is saying "Red Alert, Red Alert" as the kids instinctively bolt for shelter. This town, Sderot, only has 15 seconds to reach a safe place before the impact of the incoming rocket(s). And what timing, while these brave residents were honoring those lost in the Holocaust.
I'll leave you with that on which to reflect, but rest assured, our next posts will be FUN as Israeli Independence Day is just around the corner. Shabbat Shalom!
I first started feeling the buzz of the day Sunday night. As I'm sure many of you know (or maybe I've mentioned it before), all of our holidays start at sundown the evening before. I had worked all day and had come home to crash before going to scavenge for food since I hadn't been grocery shopping. I took the dog on a walk with dreams of falafel dancing in my hungry head only to find everything closed up tight. Everything. Even the little convenience store that is open on Shabbat was closed. That's the first time it hit me just how heavy this holiday is for everyone here. I retreated to my house and cooked all that I had, plain chicken breast and spinach. Which, in retrospect, would have been a feast for a lot of people, especially those whose memories we were recalling. And now I'm feeling a bit guilty about complaining as much as I did.
I was a little panicked about the next morning because my friends had informed me that at 10am, there would be a two minute long siren to honor the memory of those lost in the Holocaust. This brought back horrible fears of the war and the constant sirens, but I was assured that this siren sounded different. I nervously watched the clock all morning, and when 10am came, the piercing siren started. However, this did not evoke a sense of fear in me but more, a sense of chilling realization. I stood at my window, trying to calm the frightened dog, and I watched as the street behind my house became empty as people actually stopped on the road to show respect. I reflected on why we were all stopping, and I was initially hit with a wave of sadness connected to this tragedy. But curiously, I was next hit with a sense of pride in that I am living proof that the Jewish people have succeeded and survived. I am here, living the dream, and continuing on the Jewish legacy. By living my life, by just being alive, I was honoring all those lives lost. The fact that I was finally living my life in a Jewish place and living to strengthen the nation of Israel was an even profounder way of honoring their memories. A lot passed through my head in those two minutes, obviously, but it was so powerful. Just to give you a taste, watch this video of how my country reacted to this siren and how they honored those 6 million lives. It's worth it to watch it all the way to the end and experience what we did.
I felt so proud of the fact that I am Israeli, and I watched as other new olim reacted to what they had also just experienced for the first time on Facebook. Pretty amazing stuff.
On a different note, there was also another feeling throughout that day. As I was waiting for my dinner to be done Sunday night, I got an alert on my phone saying that, yet again, there had been a rocket attack in Southern Israel. That mix of emotions was hard to take. The fear, the anger, the sadness, the cynicism, the almost hopelessness. What's worse is that it interrupted a Holocaust Remembrance ceremony...here's another video just to show you the reality of the situation. The woman is saying "Red Alert, Red Alert" as the kids instinctively bolt for shelter. This town, Sderot, only has 15 seconds to reach a safe place before the impact of the incoming rocket(s). And what timing, while these brave residents were honoring those lost in the Holocaust.
I'll leave you with that on which to reflect, but rest assured, our next posts will be FUN as Israeli Independence Day is just around the corner. Shabbat Shalom!
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Another Day, Another Fadicha
In case I haven't taught you this word yet, you really need to know the Hebrew word "fadicha." It means like a screw up, an embarrassment, a fiasco, and I make a lot of them when I'm speaking Hebrew. As promised, here is my funny story about my most recent language mishap.
I was working in the fitting room in the guys' section at the Bat Yam store near Tel Aviv (where I'm training until our huge store opens in Be'er Sheva). This handsome guy walks in, and I give him a room. A few minutes later, his friend comes in and asks me something I didn't quite understand fully, until the end when I realized he was looking for his friend. So, I said to him, "You're friend is here." However, in this curious language, the word "friend" is also frequently used to describe a significant other. This is not something they taught us in ulpan (intensive Hebrew classes), and furthermore, they didn't teach us that there is a word to use to describe someone as strictly a friend ("yadid" instead of "chaver"). Back to our scene...so, the guy thought that I thought that he and his friend were a couple, and he quickly and defensively corrected my Hebrew. I know I blushed, and I got so embarrassed, but I really couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Oh, right." Now, I'm very careful to use these words correctly...even though normal Israelis aren't so careful about their word choice. ::sigh:: Being a new immigrant...
As for an Artur update, you guys helped get him over 900 votes! That's amazing because they were all genuine and organic. Sadly enough, he didn't make it to the finals, although it was VERY close. My theory is that he's just too good and so above the rest that the judges didn't think it was fair for him to be involved. :P He and I both appreciate all the support...if you want more, just go to his YouTube channel.
In other exciting news, I was called by the same reporter who did a story on me during the war, and he asked me to write about all the "firsts" I have had as an Israeli leading up to Israeli Independence Day next week. I worked really hard on the article, and I am happy to report that it will be published in the online version of Channel 2 here in Israel. Of course, I'll post a link and a translation when it happens, either Monday or Tuesday. Even cooler is that I realized that Israeli Independence Day corresponds exactly with my 6 month Aliyah-versary. I can't believe it's already been half a year! Wow...things just keep getting better and better.
Until next time, my dear readers!
I was working in the fitting room in the guys' section at the Bat Yam store near Tel Aviv (where I'm training until our huge store opens in Be'er Sheva). This handsome guy walks in, and I give him a room. A few minutes later, his friend comes in and asks me something I didn't quite understand fully, until the end when I realized he was looking for his friend. So, I said to him, "You're friend is here." However, in this curious language, the word "friend" is also frequently used to describe a significant other. This is not something they taught us in ulpan (intensive Hebrew classes), and furthermore, they didn't teach us that there is a word to use to describe someone as strictly a friend ("yadid" instead of "chaver"). Back to our scene...so, the guy thought that I thought that he and his friend were a couple, and he quickly and defensively corrected my Hebrew. I know I blushed, and I got so embarrassed, but I really couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Oh, right." Now, I'm very careful to use these words correctly...even though normal Israelis aren't so careful about their word choice. ::sigh:: Being a new immigrant...
As for an Artur update, you guys helped get him over 900 votes! That's amazing because they were all genuine and organic. Sadly enough, he didn't make it to the finals, although it was VERY close. My theory is that he's just too good and so above the rest that the judges didn't think it was fair for him to be involved. :P He and I both appreciate all the support...if you want more, just go to his YouTube channel.
In other exciting news, I was called by the same reporter who did a story on me during the war, and he asked me to write about all the "firsts" I have had as an Israeli leading up to Israeli Independence Day next week. I worked really hard on the article, and I am happy to report that it will be published in the online version of Channel 2 here in Israel. Of course, I'll post a link and a translation when it happens, either Monday or Tuesday. Even cooler is that I realized that Israeli Independence Day corresponds exactly with my 6 month Aliyah-versary. I can't believe it's already been half a year! Wow...things just keep getting better and better.
Until next time, my dear readers!
Sunday, April 7, 2013
A Bribe
Okay, my dear readers. I made a really funny mistake in Hebrew today, and I really want to tell you about it! Buttttt...I'm not going to until we give my darling dear friend, Artur Katz, some last minute help so he can be in the top four and go to the finals of this Depeche Mode competition. All the other bands are getting a last minute push, and it is TIGHT. We need to show him all the support and love we can and NOW! We have less than 7 hours before the end of voting.
Simply go to this link, scroll down to underneath Artur's video, and click the Facebook thumbs up (it says אהבתי next to it in Hebrew). It will turn gray after you've done it, indicating that you can't vote again. If you're on a mobile phone, give it a few extra moments to load.
Share this with your friends! Please, do everything you can to get him to the top! I don't know anyone in this world who deserves to win more than he does. True story. Thanks!!!
Simply go to this link, scroll down to underneath Artur's video, and click the Facebook thumbs up (it says אהבתי next to it in Hebrew). It will turn gray after you've done it, indicating that you can't vote again. If you're on a mobile phone, give it a few extra moments to load.
Share this with your friends! Please, do everything you can to get him to the top! I don't know anyone in this world who deserves to win more than he does. True story. Thanks!!!
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Pesach Aftermath
A great picture I forgot to share. When I finally made it to the grocery store a day and a half after the end of Pesach, look at how bare the pasta section was. Everyone was ready for their carbs again, lol.
Shavuah tov and good week from the Holy Land!
Shavuah tov and good week from the Holy Land!
Pesach - Feasting to Our Freedom
This is, oddly enough, the first Pesach that I think I have GAINED weight. Normally for me, Pesach is like the Jewish Atkins diet with no carbs, and sadly enough in America, not a lot of meat since Arkansas was/is lacking in the Kosher foods department. Remember - we don't eat anything with any sort of leavening agent in it during Pesach, such as bread, cakes, cookies, crackers, and for those of us who are of Eastern European decent, this also includes rice and beans. This year was COMPLETELY different. I have not been that continually stuffed in my entire life, even when I lived in Italy, and that friends, is saying a lot.
I left you guys at the pre-Pesach preparations, so let's pick up at the festive first night Seder. I spent all the major milestones of this holiday with my Moroccan sister, Anat, and her family who have graciously adopted me. It was so cool to sit at a table and participate in the Seder and for once understand A LOT of what was going on in Hebrew (and being just as confused as the native Israelis about what was going on in Aramaic). It was also cool to hear how some of the prayers are said the same as in my family and how some are said differently, as communities and families everywhere have different rhythms and versions they use. Oy vey, and the food. There is nothing that can describe a Moroccan table of food other than full and delicious.
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I left you guys at the pre-Pesach preparations, so let's pick up at the festive first night Seder. I spent all the major milestones of this holiday with my Moroccan sister, Anat, and her family who have graciously adopted me. It was so cool to sit at a table and participate in the Seder and for once understand A LOT of what was going on in Hebrew (and being just as confused as the native Israelis about what was going on in Aramaic). It was also cool to hear how some of the prayers are said the same as in my family and how some are said differently, as communities and families everywhere have different rhythms and versions they use. Oy vey, and the food. There is nothing that can describe a Moroccan table of food other than full and delicious.
Here's me and my Moroccan sister at the beautiful Seder table. Can't you tell we're related?!
Here's a progression of this really cool tradition that a lot of Moroccan families do where they take the Seder plate and pass it over everyone's head as a form of a blessing. Everyone got a good bop on the head at the end, although I'm not sure that is part of the blessing. ;)
I had to basically be rolled out of the door after this meal...and after each meal I went to with this huge, fun, loud family. I finished eating lunch the next day around 3PM and couldn't comfortably put another piece of food in my mouth until 12PM the next day. True story. Here's evidence of how much we ate at lunch:
Guys, that's only a small portion of the dishes used.
The next few days were a mixture of rest and work, as I continue on my training and intensive Hebrew lessons at my new job. I babysat Merv's dogs and stayed at her house with Pepper for a large portion of the week. She's such a doll that she cooked for me before she left on vacation, but I also tried my hand at this Passover cooking. And here is one of the badass results:
Made from scratch mazta ball soup - can't say it's as good as a Jewish bubbe would make, but I'm working on it.
I also got to discover the magic of there being lots to eat that is Kosher for Passover and that is NOT boring. I ate chocolate brownies, I ate potato bread, and I even knoshed on pizza. It's a different, cool, kosher, and Jewish world here, my friends.
PIZZA - that I didn't have room to enjoy but that I ate anyway because I had to try it.
I realize that I'm mainly writing about food, but I have a feeling not a lot of you will complain. It was a delicious Pesach! Another cool thing about the holiday here in Israel is that it is one less day than outside of Israel, so before I knew it, we were close to the end. I really didn't miss bread so much this year (although the no-carb grumpies did get ahold of me a couple of times towards the end). My adopted family invited me to lunch just hours before the holiday would end that night, and yet again, I ate until I wanted to explode. It was a BBQ, and I just couldn't stop eating fresh, grilled meat. I also learned that goose is my new favorite delicacy. Also, I'm not cut out to be Moroccan because I had to excuse myself to take a nap on the couch because I was SO FULL.
The table before the meat. It isn't a proper table without a ton of salads. So yummy.
The last of the Pesach tale ends in another strictly Moroccan tradition which is so cool. It's a dessert meal called Mimuna, and let me tell you, it's the best way to break the Pesach fast. We came into Anat's parents' house full of people and food and laughing and music. We were promptly handed hot tea and mufletta (this pancake covered in honey), and we were instructed to eat and eat and eat. People get so excited about Mimuna, and I understand why. I was surrounded by my best friends, my adopted family, and all the sweets and treats my heart could desire.
The treats, the mufletta, and the gang. Who could ask for more?
And there you have it. My first Pesach in Israel as an Israeli...and a couple kilos heavier. This year, close to Jerusalem. Next year in Jerusalem? Or Be'er Sheva. I love it here.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Is This Really Happening?
I read in the news yesterday where school officials in Sderot (a small town next to Gaza) found where a rocket had damaged a school during the Passover break. Perhaps you knew, or perhaps you didn't, that while President Obama was visiting Israel, terrorists in Gaza fired four rockets at Israel, two landing in Gaza, and two landing in Israel. It was initially thought that only one had done damage, and the other one was yet to be found. What a scary thing to come back to when you're getting a school ready for kids to return.
I really thought this was what I was going to blog about. Then, I read that there were more rockets shot into Israel yesterday in protest of a prisoner who had died in an Israeli prison from cancer. But, again, I really thought that was all I was going to blog about.
Then, as I was in bed getting ready to go to sleep, I read that Israel had sent planes into Gaza to bomb some open areas around cities as a warning against continued rocket attack. Needless to say, I slept uneasy last night. But, I naively thought, that was it.
Just now, as I'm getting ready to start my day, an alert from a Hebrew news agency pops up on my phone, and I can't believe what I've read. Surely, since my Hebrew is still shaky, I read it wrong. No. More rockets fired on Sderot 20 minutes ago. My stomach fell to the floor as I read this. Dealing with a war that was a surprise was a piece of cake - you just have to survive and the adrenaline pushes you along. Now, I'm sitting here, processing all the steps leading up to probably more rocket attacks and probably another war, and I'm paralyzed with fear. And now, my brain is working overtime, reminding my body that there could be sirens, I could have to run, and I guess just trying keep me from being utterly surprised.
I hear helicopters flying over Be'er Sheva, but I'm not sure if it's any connection to what is going on. There are lots of military bases around BS, so it could just be routine. It does, however, remind me of where I am and what possibly is next.
Maybe things will just calm down, and this was just a little skirmish between two cranky kids, but something tells me it's not. I hope to hell I'm wrong.
I really thought this was what I was going to blog about. Then, I read that there were more rockets shot into Israel yesterday in protest of a prisoner who had died in an Israeli prison from cancer. But, again, I really thought that was all I was going to blog about.
Then, as I was in bed getting ready to go to sleep, I read that Israel had sent planes into Gaza to bomb some open areas around cities as a warning against continued rocket attack. Needless to say, I slept uneasy last night. But, I naively thought, that was it.
Just now, as I'm getting ready to start my day, an alert from a Hebrew news agency pops up on my phone, and I can't believe what I've read. Surely, since my Hebrew is still shaky, I read it wrong. No. More rockets fired on Sderot 20 minutes ago. My stomach fell to the floor as I read this. Dealing with a war that was a surprise was a piece of cake - you just have to survive and the adrenaline pushes you along. Now, I'm sitting here, processing all the steps leading up to probably more rocket attacks and probably another war, and I'm paralyzed with fear. And now, my brain is working overtime, reminding my body that there could be sirens, I could have to run, and I guess just trying keep me from being utterly surprised.
I hear helicopters flying over Be'er Sheva, but I'm not sure if it's any connection to what is going on. There are lots of military bases around BS, so it could just be routine. It does, however, remind me of where I am and what possibly is next.
Maybe things will just calm down, and this was just a little skirmish between two cranky kids, but something tells me it's not. I hope to hell I'm wrong.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Awesome Friend Spotlight - Artur Katz
As promised, here's the first of my spotlight series about my insanely talented friends here. This guy has co-starred in the majority of my adventures since I became an Israeli, and I am happy and lucky enough to call him my BFF. So, without further ado, I give you, Artur Katz!
Artur (attention: not ArtHur!) is off-the-charts talented, a singer, pianist, and soon to be, one hell of a music producer. He's currently studying in one of the most prestigious music schools here in Israel called Rimon. Seriously, guys, he's going to be famous.
Artur (attention: not ArtHur!) is off-the-charts talented, a singer, pianist, and soon to be, one hell of a music producer. He's currently studying in one of the most prestigious music schools here in Israel called Rimon. Seriously, guys, he's going to be famous.
This is us New Year's Eve. He KILLED his NYE performance! All in a Santa hat (okay, he'll kill me. It's actually Grandfather Frost's hat...Santa's Russian 2nd cousin, I'm guessing).
How about a sampling of his glorious voice? He's been singing since he was a youngin', and he even traveled to the United States (among other international locations) to perform WHEN HE WAS 14. That good, friends. Here he is singing his version of Britney Spear's "Womanizer":
Artur is fluent in many languages, and he sings in all of them PLUS more. Spanish, Russian, English, Italian, Portuguese, Hebrew, etc.. As mentioned earlier, he's also working on his production techniques. Check out his retro mix of Beyonce's "Deja Vu" here.
We both share an enormous love and respect for Justin Timberlake. One of my current assignments (of MANY) from Artur is to teach him how to dance like JT. I'm not sure that he realizes that I can't even dance like JT, but it'll be fun trying. :) And you better believe that when Justin comes to Europe on tour, we'll be there! We even like to joke that Artur will one day be the Israeli Justin Timberlake. Watch this video of a "Lovestoned/Billie Jean" mashup where Artur was featured with a local band called the Safranim, and see if you think he can be the JT of the Middle East...
Also, here is another SUPER impressive video that combines his beautiful voice and his outstanding production skills. He took Depeche Mode's "Shake the Disease" and turned it into something much different and very special. I'm personally addicted to his version, and it's a regular on my iTunes playlist. Listen for yourself, and then compare to the original:
Anndddddd if you liked what you heard, please go here and vote for his song to win in an Israeli Depeche Mode competition. Just scroll down the page (I realize it is in Hebrew), find his video (the one from above - and it's clearly marked in English, thankfully), and vote (by clicking the Facebook "like" button to the left of the video)! Voting is open for a few days. Let's get him to the top!
I could go on and on about Artur, but let's suffice it to say that he is one of the most genuine, hardworking, intelligent, caring, diligent, and talented people I know. His understanding and love for music is unmatched, and his brain is constantly working to make new, amazing things. His mission is to bring true, energetic pop music to the Israeli scene, and he'll be releasing his first album very soon. Also, if you're in Be'er Sheva (or even in Israel and want to come to BS!), he and another super-amazing-talented friend, Meirav, perform at the local restaurant called The Sifria every Tuesday night, 10-11pm - it's songs by request and always a fun time!
I'm proud to call Artur my friend and even prouder of what he's doing. Subscribe to his YouTube channel and let's show him some true international support! Loves you, Arturo!
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Coming Up Next...
So, we're entering into the last day of Passover in just a few short hours. This week has been full of new and great experiences, and I can't wait to share pictures and stories from my first Passover as an Israeli. However, I'm going to wait until after tomorrow night when I go to my first Mimuna with all of my best friends. It's supposed to be the best way to break the Pesach fast full of desserts and treats that we couldn't eat this whole week. Can't wait to share with y'all more about this cool Moroccan tradition.
In the meantime, I'm working on a blog post series that will individually showcase each one of my talented and beautiful friends here. I hope you'll enjoy it. This first one is a real special musical treat. Coming to you about 1am Israel time/5pm Arkansas time TODAY!
In the meantime, I'm working on a blog post series that will individually showcase each one of my talented and beautiful friends here. I hope you'll enjoy it. This first one is a real special musical treat. Coming to you about 1am Israel time/5pm Arkansas time TODAY!
Monday, March 25, 2013
My First Pesach as an Israeli
Each time there is a holiday (and admittedly, we Jews have A LOT), it's the coolest thing to be thinking, "Wow, my first [insert holiday here] in Israel!" Channukah was special, and every day gave me something else to be thankful for. Tu B'Shvat was sweet, and I got to plant trees in MY gorgeous city of Be'er Sheva with my friends from Ulpan. Purim was hystical and produced the picture of "The Gang" that you see to the right of my page. Pesach, or Passover, has really been an entire ordeal, and it hasn't even started. T-minus about an hour before we officially begin celebrating here, but let me tell you what I've experienced for the past few weeks...
Right before my birthday at the beginning of March, there started to be a buzz about "Passover is coming." I knew I'd eventually get into the swing of things, like everyone else, with the cleaning craze. I had huge plans to clean and purge, since (I know this is nuts) I had already acquired things that I really didn't need in the 5 short months I've been here. Suffice it to say that I started the entire apartment cleaning project two weeks ago, and I only finished 30 minutes ago. BUT my apartment is now cleaner than it has probably ever been, I'm free from clutter, and I really do feel ready for Pesach.
Now, like a smarty pants, I waited for today to go and buy groceries for my apartment that are Kosher for Passover, and I was warned by many friends of how stupid an idea this was. What to do? I started my job yesterday and literally didn't have any time other than today.
I had a kind of cool experience on the way there. As I left my apartment, I smelled burnt toast in the air, and I realized that people were burning their chametz (anything with a leavening agent or product in it that is forbidden to eat over Passover). Kind of a cool tradition, although I didn't do this, as Pepper and I ate all that we had left. Here's a picture I took to try and give you an idea:
Even cooler, I saw various other smoke columns rising around the neighborhood, and it kind of felt like I was inside a toaster with the permeating smell. Goodbye, bread.
I finally arrived to the supermarket. As I hesitantly entered the store, just bracing for an explosion of people and chaos, I found that it was actually really calm and not at all full. Therefore, I was able to peruse all the goodies I needed calmly. Suddenly, I noticed that the bread aisle was covered in thick white plastic and taped off. As was the bakery. If you're not aware, we don't eat bread products during Passover (that chametz stuff again). This was really a powerful experience for me, and I got chills because it hit me (as it often does) that I'm finally living in a Jewish place. How special. I wandered through the store and saw other areas sealed off, and everything just felt surreal. Now, we can debate the legitimacy of this later, as I've already had the debate today of "Well, I don't keep Kosher during Passover, so why should I have to suffer and have a hard time buying bread?" Send me an email, if you're so inclined.
Many of you know that I am a huge fan of beer, so as I turned onto the drinks aisle, I was overwhelmed to see the entire beer and liquor section also sealed off. Of course, I knew that I wouldn't be drinking that lovely, foamy, beer-y goodness for the next week, but to have it shoved in my face was a bit cruel. I also took a picture of this moment...perhaps a picture of my face would've been funnier:
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Right before my birthday at the beginning of March, there started to be a buzz about "Passover is coming." I knew I'd eventually get into the swing of things, like everyone else, with the cleaning craze. I had huge plans to clean and purge, since (I know this is nuts) I had already acquired things that I really didn't need in the 5 short months I've been here. Suffice it to say that I started the entire apartment cleaning project two weeks ago, and I only finished 30 minutes ago. BUT my apartment is now cleaner than it has probably ever been, I'm free from clutter, and I really do feel ready for Pesach.
Now, like a smarty pants, I waited for today to go and buy groceries for my apartment that are Kosher for Passover, and I was warned by many friends of how stupid an idea this was. What to do? I started my job yesterday and literally didn't have any time other than today.
I had a kind of cool experience on the way there. As I left my apartment, I smelled burnt toast in the air, and I realized that people were burning their chametz (anything with a leavening agent or product in it that is forbidden to eat over Passover). Kind of a cool tradition, although I didn't do this, as Pepper and I ate all that we had left. Here's a picture I took to try and give you an idea:
That smoldering pile in the middle of the ground is all the delicious bread that we can't eat for the next week. Cool and sad all at once.
Even cooler, I saw various other smoke columns rising around the neighborhood, and it kind of felt like I was inside a toaster with the permeating smell. Goodbye, bread.
I finally arrived to the supermarket. As I hesitantly entered the store, just bracing for an explosion of people and chaos, I found that it was actually really calm and not at all full. Therefore, I was able to peruse all the goodies I needed calmly. Suddenly, I noticed that the bread aisle was covered in thick white plastic and taped off. As was the bakery. If you're not aware, we don't eat bread products during Passover (that chametz stuff again). This was really a powerful experience for me, and I got chills because it hit me (as it often does) that I'm finally living in a Jewish place. How special. I wandered through the store and saw other areas sealed off, and everything just felt surreal. Now, we can debate the legitimacy of this later, as I've already had the debate today of "Well, I don't keep Kosher during Passover, so why should I have to suffer and have a hard time buying bread?" Send me an email, if you're so inclined.
Many of you know that I am a huge fan of beer, so as I turned onto the drinks aisle, I was overwhelmed to see the entire beer and liquor section also sealed off. Of course, I knew that I wouldn't be drinking that lovely, foamy, beer-y goodness for the next week, but to have it shoved in my face was a bit cruel. I also took a picture of this moment...perhaps a picture of my face would've been funnier:
My tears of mourning aren't quite enough to quench my beer thirst.
And so, here we are, the sun is setting on an absolutely lovely day, there is this thick aroma of delicious food floating through the air in the neighborhood, and I can just feel the holiday buzz all around me. I'm going to go enjoy my first Israeli Passover seder (traditional meal where the story of the Exodus from Egypt is told) with my wonderful, adopted Moroccan family. Sadly, no pictures tonight because we're going to a religious house, but tomorrow, I'll be sure to document the massive food consumption fully for y'all. Chag Pesach Sameach v'Kasher! Happy and Kosher Passover!
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Some Visuals
I took this picture the last night of the war as the rockets and sirens continued. Up to the last minute, friends.
Me, Merv, and the dogs waiting out the sirens. We were trying to laugh, but we both got really close to crying after this was taken.
The beautiful and peaceful sky after the "storm." Nice way to start the first normal week after the war.
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