Big City Attractions, Familiar Atmosphere

Israelis, from my observations and experiences, can take one of two paths after making plans. Scenario One: they will call you and tell you that they will meet you at whatever location at a specific time. What typically results is that they will show up nonchalantly at said location but at a time that is fast-forwarded into the future. The place may also change without notice. Be on guard. Scenario Two: during the initial call, they will put you on notice that they will come get you now to go do something that they may or may not have filled you in on. The latter was the scene that opened the weekend for me, though I had somewhat of an idea of what I would be doing.

My friend Amit, who is going to study at Indiana University's business school for the fall semester as an exchange student from Tel Aviv University, picked me up from my friend's place just after I had arrived on Thursday evening. We went with a friend of his and her mom to Park HaYarkon in Tel Aviv to watch the opera Carmen performed by the Israeli Opera. I'm typically not an opera addict but wanted to take Amit's invitation and see what kind of experience it would be. The video below captures a brief surprise performance at Dizengoff Center (the main mall in Tel Aviv) in anticipation of the show.

I would definitely attend and enjoy an event like this again in the future, but not because of a new-found love of opera. The opera itself was a great performance no doubt, but what made it special for me was the experience of the surroundings that made it a uniquely Israel spectacle: the crowd, the translations and the master of ceremonies. Pausing to look back with amazement at the expanse of the park, there were at least 50,000 people who had gathered for this free civic event. Though the performance was in French, Hebrew subtitles were projected on the screens. It was a great way (and my only avenue) to understand the opera and presented a bit of excitement and pride to see such an official event translated for the onlookers. Ron Huldai, the mayor of Tel Aviv, hosted the event and thrice presented the crowd with an introduction and synopsis of the opera. He did so in such a convincing manner and employed exuberance and passion. I don't think Mayor Daley would be able to affect a crowd in such a manner, much less be able to speak so eloquently and seemingly extemporaneously.

Friday brought with it more relaxation and enjoyment. After waking up, doing laundry and enjoying the city views from atop huge rooftop (thanks Karen!) we ran some quick errands and went to the beach for the day. I met up with Yael, another newcomer from Australia, and wandered around the city for a while. We crossed through Rabin Square and stopped to reflect on the site of the former prime minister's assassination. The word spray-painted on the top of the rest of the preserved graffiti says slicha, which means sorry or forgiveness. We headed back to Yael's place to make some simple sandwiches to celebrate Shabbat. Later that night we met up with my truly amazing Tel Aviv friends (don't forget this!), Avital and Ofer/"Adrien Brody." I'm glad they had us come out - I had a great time and met two of their good friends and realized that I share mutual friends with both. The weekend ended as I rushed to get a shared ride from the city center to the new (yet seemingly really old) bus station to catch a ride for a mere 22 shekels to Jerusalem with my roommate Sheeran and our friend Robert, the positive and positively talkative Canadian in the group. Along the way to meet them at the bus terminal, I was making some light jokes with a girl who was waiting with me for the shared taxi, in the end making what might be a nice friendship out of the simple conversation. That's Israel in a nutshell and another bright spot about being here.

Evening Outing in Jerusalem

In a continuation of my city-desert walks in Jerusalem, today I hiked from Talpiot Mizrach (southeast neighborhood) to Givat Ram (central western neighborhood) to go to the reopened Israel Museum, which houses the Shrine of the Book (Dead Sea Scrolls) as well as a huge collection of Israeli and Jewish history. I met my friend Yael (from my aliya flight) there to enjoy a concert that was included in the price of admission (even my student admission, which I fought for and got). We saw Shalom Hanoch in concert; I enjoy live music of all sorts so it was a lot of fun, though if I had been more familiar with his work and if the wind had been a bit less ferocious I would've enjoyed it all a bit more. Walking back to my bus stop from the museum, Yael's friend Sa'ar took us on a slight tour of the Rehavia neighborhood, pointing out some highlights. We walked right in front of the heavily guarded Beit Rosh Memshela (prime minister's residence), though I didn't opt to take a picture lest I bear the scorn and questioning of the armed guards.

Returning to the dorm, I was passively greeted by a new security guard - one of the many curious and playful cats on campus. I usually don't care to play with cats or be around them, but they were pretty cute and not bothersome so I couldn't resist hanging around to watch them on my way to a restful evening.

A Preview of the Summer Festivities

Working the System
Like many other previous days, today I was productive with some errands or, as they're called in Hebrew, sidurim. I had to go to the bank and the post office and am not shy about admitting that I planned it out pretty well. In any other place having to really think about your errands might sound funny but here I certainly didn't want to be shut out of the system, so I worked it my own way instead.

From the bottom of the mountain where I live I first trekked over to the post office. The security guard stopped me at the entrance and wanted to frisk me. I avoided that by just asking him to pass me a number from the little carousel that maintains the civility of the line and seems to have improved in its efficacy over the last number of years. I then went straight over to the bank, which is located just across the street from the post office and seems to maintain opposite working hours. I was at the bank for about 20 minutes or so and was able to wrap up my business there and sign a nice amount of paperwork to make my visit feel official.

I got back to the post office just as my number the in line was called. Perfect planning and execution.

Holiday of Love
Along with being a pleasant Monday, today is also Tu b'Av - the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Av. This day is traditionally celebrated as the Israeli Valentine's Day and is recognized as a day of love and hope. After my errands were finished I sat on a streetside bench and waited for a band to start playing to begin the festivities for the holiday. The passion fruit, paciflora, is the traditional fruit of love for the holiday - fitting that I had one for lunch. I stayed to listen to a few bands and enjoy the street life in the Emek Refa'im neighborhood of Jerusalem with Ronit (from Venezuela) and Rachel (from Australia) before heading back home for a celebratory party.

The ulpan hosted Rabbi David Sterne (surprisingly not the NBA commissioner) and Chaim David (not surprisingly also Jewish). The rabbi addressed us intermittently with some lessons about the holiday and the basis for it, while Chaim David sang and performed some melodies, which were accompanied by some fun singing and dancing of our own. I requested him to sing a particular song about rejoicing in Jerusalem, part of which I filmed and can be viewed here. Before and after he sang, Chaim David offered me some nice thoughts and blessings because I had chosen an especially meaningful and important song. The party transformed in style to a dj playing a number of international tunes and provided a nice first party for us all to mark a happy, festive occasion soon after our arrival.

Driving in Circles

The following are the unofficial steps necessary to obtain an Israeli driver's license. Pay close attention.

1. Breath in, think happy thoughts
This is definitely a long process that tests your patience. Perhaps it was designed specifically for potential road ragers in mind so that they wouldn't get a license without successfully running around the maze first.

2. The circus begins
My roommate Sheeran and I walked from the bottom of our mountain base to the Talpiot neighborhood, replete with tired malls next to each other. The first actual step was to go pick up the revered tofes yarok, green form, which is the base of all of future work necessary for the process. The office that provided this form was pretty unremarkable and drab, not too dissimilar from the orthopedic office we originally thought was the correct door. The woman at the desk was hardly interested in looking at us, though our eyes were strictly set upon her. Gorgeous as she was, her demeanor evoked a thought of what I'd consider 'deficient in manners,' as one might say in American speak. After barking orders at us to request our papers, we signed some forms and took an ID picture, which was then printed on the form in an exquisite display of technology.

3. The eye test
We went all the way from the first office where we got the form and picture taken to the very same office where we took an eye test. The woman who administered the test must be a true sleeper agent - or she was just having a long and tired day. Of the 20 minutes we were in their office she probably slept 15 of them. I passed my vision test with ease and won't have restrictive lenses for my license, thanks in part to my contacts.

4. Find some luck
Sheeran's family must own half of Talpiot. We said hi to three of his cousins within a one block radius. One of his cousins works in a mall across from the building we were in. In order to get to the main entrance/exit, Sheeran suggested we go down a set a staircases over yonder. We didn't find stairs, but instead a doctor's office. I had been on the phone and internet for a while at Sheeran's cousin's store to try to find a local location of the insurer I belong to - without much luck (I shouldn't have to add). I asked the receptionist if she knew where the closest Maccabi office (health insurer) was. She asked for my insurance card, thinking that she wanted to look it up by the plan. In actuality, she verified that my insurance was valid and told me that I could go see the doctor. Today. Without an appointment. No wait. No co-pay. No way in the USA. I had the doc sign the form as required and spoke with him about health insurance in general. So easy.

5. The DMV is the same everywhere - and equally as happy of a place
My next stop was to go to the licensing authority, again just less than a block away. As we entered through tougher-than-usual security, I took a number in the line. The forty or so numbers before me passed pretty quickly. When my turn came, I told the gentleman that I needed to convert my foreign license to an Israeli one. "Only in the mornings," was his flat response. So I started to leave the building and then immediately rushed back and tried again. Explaining to his colleague that I am in class every morning, she made an exception for me and filled out the ridiculously little bissel of information she needed to record before sending me on my way.

6. A needle in a haystack
I finally finished all of my bureaucratic work! With that behind me, I can go ahead and take driving lessons. This is probably to inundate immigrants with just enough finesse to make crazy driving not stand out. In order to do so, I have to find a moderately trustworthy driving instructor. I'm hoping that the instructor will not deviate from the ethical roots of the nation by requiring me to take more lessons from him instead of signing off that I am good to go, even though that would mean that he would be limiting his incoming cash flow. I should reiterate that the number of lessons I am required to take is at his sole discretion. Fingers crossed. However, I would like to take a few extra lessons on a manual-drive car to be able to be proficient in driving those, to make me more well-rounded and the like.

7. Yes you need to pay for that, too
I have not started this part of the process quite yet, but just reading about it is frustrating enough. After paying for the driving lessons, I have to pay just over US$100 to use a vehicle for the driving test. I hope I can just borrow someone's because that is surely a steep cost for a non-luxury one-day rental - especially considering that it's not at an airport location and assuming all insurance options have been declined. That's not the end of it though. Supposedly after more paperwork from the licensing authority, I have to go to the post office of all places (when in doubt, go there for all non-post office related business evidently) to pay another US$16 for the test. After successfully passing the driving test, I need to take the paperwork back to the licensing authority for a temporary license and then again return to the post office to pay another US$100 to validate the temporary license and activate the processing for the permanent license, which should be mailed to me within 8 weeks. I hear that they routinely send the licenses to the wrong addresses at least the first attempt, which might mean I already may accumulate some tickets and moving violations before I even get my license.

8. Breath out, hopefully you're done!
Why must we drive in nonsensical circles if we are going to be held to a rigorous test to maneuver the roadways safely!? It is really just absurd to make us jump through hoops without any semblance of rationality. Drop off the form at the licensing authority and pay the post office so that the licensing authority can continue the paperwork? How must one clearly define bureaucracy? Let's hope I don't have to get my license re-validated any time soon! And breathe again..

Weekend in the White City

After a three hour bus ride (normally this ride is just under an hour), upon which I fell asleep a number of times only to wake up in the same position on the road as when I had fallen asleep, I finally arrived in the north Tel Aviv suburb of Ramat Aviv, where I was staying for the weekend with my friend from the aliya flight, Karen. She met me at the bus stop, which, on the side of a major expressway-esque street without any sidewalk or intersection, was hardly a proper place to stop for anything. We went to the grocery store straight away and I had some fun making some observations about the differences between the supermarkets in Chicago and Tel Aviv. Though there is certainly a plethora of packaged bread in the stores here, they also had unwrapped and uncut loaves and also provided a free slicer. Interesting. What was really impressive and mouth-watering were the varieties and quantities found in the hummus aisle. Mainly hummus, but also Turkish salad, tahina, matbucha and other wonders of the sauce world. We (really just Karen) made dinner both Thursday and Friday nights and relaxed on her very spacious rooftop. I finally learned how to play shesh-besh (backgammon) and I'm very excited to take on my next opponent!

Whereas a pedestrian mall is a typical meeting place in many cities, in Tel Aviv it's definitely the beach. In our case, Gordon Beach. I met friends, new and old, and enjoyed a few hours on the sand and in the water, which was quite serene and relaxing. Though it normally takes me about twenty minutes to get used to the temperature of a body of water or pool, the eastern shores of the Mediterranean were welcoming even to my tastes and did not necessitate a moment's pause. Most of my waking daylight hours were spent on the beach and transitioned into nice sunsets.

Before heading back to Jerusalem, I met up with Yael, a good friend from Melbourne who just made aliya the prior day and whom I hadn't seen for a long while as well as Avital and Ofer, a fun couple who I met only within the last few months but are very nice and took me along to a beach cafe/bar with them to celebrate their friend's birthday. Not long thereafter I was back at the ulpan for the start of another week of language immersion classes.

If Jerusalem should remain above my highest joys, then Tel Aviv certainly must be included amongst the highest joys.

Unexpected Adventures

After my grand address was delivered to the community, we had lunch at about 1pm. Today's meal was a Yemenite offering of malawach, a pancake-type meal served with some sweet and spicy sauces, and included a number of assorted vegetables and salads - מעולה (me'uleh - awesome)!

I lead a few friends of mine by foot to a currency exchange place that was recommended to us, which ended up being a 2.5 hour walk across a good section of the city, not uncommon of my typical wanderings. The street on which the store was located provided a great parallel view to another hilltop upon which sits the Knesset (parliament), an angle I had not yet seen. After taking care of our business there, we started walking back to the main street and paused so one of the gang could get an ice cream bar at a small shop along the street. This is when the day transformed into an experience from a pleasant walk.

I noticed that the trash dumpsters next to us had flowers in them and acted without thinking further. The flowers were all fresh roses and other varieties of assorted colors, deposited somewhat recently and ever so gently by the adjacent flower shop. I reached in and grabbed the nearest bouquets - and my friends soon followed suit. Between the four of us, we had accumulated at least a dozen bouquets, sometimes requiring that we reach in a bit further than what otherwise might be thought of as permissible dumpster diving. Admittedly my first thought, having just graduated from business school, was to go to the main drag and sell them. Arlene, one of my friends along for the walk, suggested to give them away, which proved to be a much more noble and rewarding decision.

I gave my first bushel of flowers to Adi, a cute guard at a nearby museum. Her reaction was typical of other fortunate recipients: for what? is there a catch? are you serious? what's the occasion!? ... followed by a great appreciation and wide smile. I passed by a car and noticed an Arab woman sitting with her child. At first I just passed it by without thinking, like I'd normally do with anyone. This time, however, I doubled back and made sure to get her a bouquet - perhaps, I thought, doing one small thing like this might bridge a small gap here or there and help bring about a feeling of change that might temper the seemingly endless fighting in the Middle East battleground. After finishing most of the distribution in the city center, Arlene and I went back to get more flowers to take back to the ulpan with us. At one point, I was so set on getting a few nice looking bouquets that both of my feet were well in the air as I leaned over the dumpster to acquire my prize, laughing at myself the whole time. The last time I did something this ridiculous I was sixteen and running around a restaurant in Eilat with my friend Eli, eating ice cream off of peoples' abandoned plates.

We started back on the way home but made a meaningful stop before boarding the bus. The family of Gilad Shalit, the Israeli soldier who was kidnapped over four years ago and is being held in captivity without access to Red Cross visits or other humanitarian care, set up a tent opposite the prime minister's residence to petition the government to work to ensure his freedom. Gilad's parents have been sleeping in the tent for the past few weeks and so I took a bouquet of pretty flowers (unscathed) over to them. They went to Be'er Sheva to raise awareness for their son and so they weren't present when I stopped by, but the volunteers stationed at the tent were so moved by the gesture that they asked that I write a quick note for Gilad's family so they could appreciate the flowers even more.
Back at the ulpan, I continued distributing the flowers to all of the ladies who were around the building, all of whom were quite appreciative.

This was certainly a nice way to mark two weeks in Israel.

Welcome & Blessings

This morning I was greeted by Ofra, the head of the Hebrew language program at the ulpan, at which point she requested that I offer some thoughts and blessings in Hebrew for the entire ulpan (currently beginning its 122nd session) at a small ceremony, based on the recommendation from my teacher Mira.

The following are the words that I quickly composed and arranged for the occasion, making sure to touch on common themes that we all have as new olim and the threads that bind us together, followed by a translation.

שלום לכולם וברוכים הבאים לטקס קטן זה.

בתחילת המסע שלנו כעולים חדשים בארצינו החדשה, אנחנו כאן מארבע כנפות הארץ וכולנו רוצים לבנות את חיינו כאזרחי ישראל.

באולפן עציון אנחנו גרים כקהילה מאוחדת - באנו כדי ללמוד שפה חדשה, את התרבות הישראלי ולהכיר אחד את השני. תזכרו שהאולפן הזה לא רק לדיקדוק ואוצר מילים - אך אנחנו נקבל פה גם את הרגשות החזקים שהבאנו אותנו לישראל כדי שנוכל למצוא אוצר אחר ומיוחד שנמצא פה בחיים בארץ.

אני מאחל לכולנו: הצלחה, ברכה, פרנסה וחברות ושאנחנו גם יכולים לשים לב שעוד לא אבדה תקוותינו!

ברוכים הבאים והמון ברכות!

Shalom to everyone and welcome to this small ceremony.

At the beginning of our journey as new immigrants in our new land, we are here from the four corners of the earth - all of us interested in building new lives as Israeli citizens.

At Ulpan Etzion, we live as a unified community - we came here in order to learn a new language, Israeli culture and to make friends with one another. Remember though, that this ulpan is not just to learn grammar and build our vocabulary - but rather we also receive here the strong feelings and emotions that brought us to Israel in order to find a different and special treasure that is found in Israeli life.

I wish us all: success, blessings, sustenance and friendship and that we also can realize that we have not lost our hope!

Welcome everyone - and many blessings to us all!

If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem

Today is the ninth day of the Hebrew month Av.
It is a day of mourning and is referred to by its Hebrew date: Tisha b'Av.
It conveniently wraps a number of different disasters and calamities into one packaged holiday, on which a full fast day (from the previous evening until the night) is observed.

Most particularly, Tisha b'Av commemorates the destruction of both the first and second Jewish Temples in Jerusalem (by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the Romans in 70 CE, respectively). It also coincides with the Jewish expulsion from Spain in 1492, courtesy of Ferdinand and Isabella, and other events of Jewish past.

To commemorate the holiday for my own experience here, I went with a friend from my Hebrew class to a community center in the nearby German Colony neighborhood, more commonly know as Emek Refa'im. The Book of Lamentations was traditionally read and was held outside. Afterward I walked to the tayelet, the boardwalk overlooking the Old City of Jerusalem, which is pretty close to our dorms.

I sat and thought on the promenade and read a few psalms particular to Jerusalem. One line in particular in Psalm 137 resonated with the theme of the holiday and how Zionism resonates with me:
אם אשכחך ירושלים תשכח ימיני
"If I forget thee, O Jerusalem" is how the thought begins. It embodies the sadness and emptiness of being without our freedom, kingdom and capital city and Temple, having been defiled and ruined by oppressors. It is incredibly meaningful to be here to celebrate the holiday, wondering what the rolling hills looked like then and imagining the former kingdoms of Israel, yet proud to be in the modern Jewish state in Jerusalem itself.

Anshel Pfeffer, a reporter for the Israeli daily newspaper Ha'Aretz, wrote an op-ed piece and contends that since we have recreated a new state the Tisha b'Av holiday need not be observed any longer. An article in Israel21c includes Pfeffer's thoughts and opines further.

I think Pfeffer has an interesting argument, though I defer to the end of the previously quoted stanza:
"If I do not remember you, let my tongue stick to my mouth - if I do not elevate Jerusalem above my highest joys."
This thought encapsulates my joys and excitements of being fortunate enough to again live in Jerusalem and enjoy its splendor. At the present time, I could not be happier being here.

People & Places

My Left Pocket
On the long self-guided tours I take daily, I also bring along with me enough documentation to do most anything at any government office anywhere. My left pocket is a repository for what seems to be a never-ending bundle of documents, IDs and cards that are necessary for a new life here. I feel like I'm going on a trip every day and have to remember to bring everything with me, lest I need something somewhere that I don't have. This does not include, mind you, other papers and notes on which I record my thoughts that add to the depth and density of the left pocket.

Back at the Homefront
Getting back to the barracks I've gone by foot and taken buses. The former is more enjoyable; the latter is more efficient time-wise. Upon waiting for the #8 bus, I saw the Israeli version of Mr. T. He had a plethora of gold chains, clearly visible from his open shirt and on his belt he had a row of three cell phones on belt clips. Moments after boarding a bus on the way home, I had to re-check the route I was on since it seemed like I got on a roller coaster instead. I was nauseous and almost fell over a series of times - the speed and difficulty level of the course was on par with a black diamond. It seems that either the drivers are at the expert level and can navigate the turns without effort or that, while on their cell phones and punching tickets of oncoming passengers while flying down the track, they are ill-trained and we should actually fear for our lives.

Sitting out on the patio at the entrance of the ulpan dorms, I met some fun people. One, Ronit, seemed to have a foreign accent and said she was from Minnesota. Actually she said Venezuela. But it definitely sounded like Minnesota and she did say that other people had also thought she said Minnesota.

It Pays to Save
After confirming that the bank was open, I went down to their office, which is actually more of a comfortable, nicely furnished customer service center than a typical bank branch - absent of tellers and general transactions typically found in retail banks. Something that is different is the necessity to pay for pretty much every transaction you can think of - from depositing money to a fee for each check you write - as well as the amount of forms that are necessary to sign. I updated my phone number and consequently had to sign two forms. The crazy thing is that, because of the lines and the short time generally available with the representatives, I'm not able to read all of the Hebrew fine-print (which represents the whole page) and am just able to get the gist of what I am doing. I hope I didn't forfeit my assets. Actually that's ok for now too - I still have a $0 balance. I was elated to finally get my credit card, which I had ordered the week before. It doubles as an ATM card and I have a whopping ₪ 2000, which translates to an even more extravagant $500. I guess the bank is going to help me stick to my budget. I also converted my bank account to a student account which will save me on fees for 3-5 years depending on the type of transaction - good thing I saved my Hebrew University student ID from 10+ years ago. It's starting to pay off quite handsomely.

Sunday School Begins

A Combination of 5s
For the first five months in Israel (unless an opportunity arises and whisks me away) I am staying in an absorption center in Southeast Jerusalem in a neighborhood called Talpiot Mizrach. There are people here from all around the world - 34 countries that each speak languages. I have new friends from Brazil, Austria, France, Venezuela, Russia, Ukraine, Italy, Canada and the US&A. Quite an eclectic bunch and even more interesting when Hebrew is the common language denominator to communicate with one another.

For five hours per day for five days each week and for five months this year I will have intensive Hebrew lessons in order to improve my Hebrew abilities to a near-fluent level. Three days each week I have conversational and topical discussions with Mira; the other two days we will learn and review more grammar with..another teacher I haven't yet met. Already at a conversational level with a strong grammar background, I placed into the highest Hebrew level available here. That's a great thing since it shows that my Hebrew is already very good; it's a bit scary though because I'm not sure if I'll have a 'cap' on what I will be able to learn here. I will just take things one day at a time and see how things go until my vocabulary book is filled up.

Things I Don't Understand

Sunday in Israel is a business day. It's a nice thing to be able to get things done on a Sunday and be productive. That's how I look at it at least. I remembered from a previous ego-buster that the banks and post offices have odd hours, to say the least. Enter Exhibit A. After thinking that the bank opened up again at 4pm, I was sorely wrong in that it was closed on Sunday. For the US, fine. For a normal business day in Israel? Not cool. Even more difficult is attempting to remember the time of day the bank is open - it can't be as simple as 9-5 of course - and which days it is open at such times - since the hours very each day of the week. It seems like pulling teeth to get them to work - pretty ironic for a bank whose name translates to "workers' bank," don't you think?


The bus system is actually pretty great here. I'm a big proponent of public transportation and an even bigger fan of self-propelled transport. In the sad absence of my bicycle, I have been walking quite a lot every day. Yet when trying to figure out when the bus is about to come on the nifty schedule boards at many stations, I have trouble understanding everything except the words and numbers. That is to say, they could be written in any order or combination and I would derive the same void of information. If someone can explain this to me I'd very much appreciate it.

As a personal contribution to funny signs around the world, I thought my family in Chicago would especially appreciate this. Given the number of parking tickets we have had to pay and fight, it's interesting to think that you can just acquire parking tickets without any hassle at all.

The fun lives on - cheers to a good start of the week and beginning of round two of Sunday School!

Gadot Revisited

map of Gadot and surrounding area

My weekend with the kibbutznikim can be summed up in three simple themes:
1 - food
2 - sleep
3 - education

Though Kibbutz Gadot has been gradually changing its structure in favor of more independence for nuclear families and less reliance on the community, there are still meals from which the kibbutz members can partake. I really just like kibbutz food. You always know that within 4 meals at least one will have schnitzel. That's good enough - but there's more, so much more. Salad bars full of hummus and fresh veggies.
Kibbutz cafeteria food is where it's at.

I slept more than I needed to this weekend, though it was a relaxing detour from city life. Actually I woke up at about 8am each morning I was there. Yes, very impressive. Most of the sleeping came in the form of mid-day naps. While walking from one point to another in the kibbutz I really appreciated the wild life and vegetation. I saw a number of lizards (pretty much the squirrels of Israel, both in numbers and the same type of scurrying around locomotion) and noticed a number of flocks of parrots flying around. Pretty cool. There were also more fruits growing on trees than I had seen in any other one place - dates, pomello, oranges, lemon and a host of spices.

Yehuda and Rina took me to Kesem HaGolan, which is basically a tourist destination in Katzrin, the capital of the Golan. We watched a panoramic movie about what the Golan offers since its development by Israel, complete with special effects - and by that I mean things like a mist in the theater when it rained in the video. That's true interactive movie-making. Coming to a theater in Katzrin near you.
The next part of the museum-esque tour-ish thing was a topographical scale model of the Golan, which presented the geological history as well as modern history of the land and importance it maintains for Israel. Before leaving the center, we had some light snacks (I had schnitzel, of course) and tasted really great beer at the Golan Heights Brewery.

Our last stop before heading back to the kibbutz to conclude my visit was at Mitzpe Gadot, a lookout of the Gadot area. We listened to a solar-powered panel that provided more history on the kibbutz itself and provided a testimony from a kibbutz member who lived through the wars with Syria there. Yehuda also was kind enough to educate me in the rockology of the rocks I found on the lookout point. To give a taste of it, the Golan is on the Syrian-African rift and is home to now inactive volcanoes. My other other education was in the form of Hebrew language. From Yehuda, Rina and their daughter Hagit (as well as others on the kibbutz), I spoke pretty much exclusively in Hebrew for the weekend and accumulated four pages of new words into my 'word treasure' in my notebook. It was a pretty enriching, encouraging experience.

The majesty of the landscape and the abundant amount and variety of activities and sites around the Golan are incredible. I'm looking forward to my next trip back to stay at Gadot and start checking things off my list.

Gadot Getaway: Part One (The Original)

So here we go...

Back 10 years and 6 months ago (or, more precisely, 3,839 days ago - thanks Excel) I was on my winter vacation during my year abroad at the Hebrew University's Rothberg School for International Students. I rented a car with a friend, one of his friends and my sister Rachel, who was visiting at the time, and went North to go hiking and see what fortunes would cross our path.

Our first stop was at Kibbutz Ayelet HaShachar, where we had a good time rifling through the armament on their shooting range and had a nice round of target practice with 9mm handguns, desert eagles (an Israeli handgun) and an AK-47 and M-16. We did not want to be discriminatory with our selections, hence the well-rounded training.
We continued further North and stayed the night in Katzrin, the capital of the Golan Heights. The weather was consistently rainy and not too encouraging of hikes or being outside in general.

Nachal Jilaboun
The next morning the other two passengers who came along headed back to Jerusalem because of the weather. Rachel and I were going to head back that afternoon as well but first decided to stop at a nearby trail - Nachal Jilaboun - since the rain was letting up a bit. We parked the car and came upon the first waterfall along the path. At this point, Rachel consulted the "Let's Go! Israel" book (which, at the conclusion of this tale, you will understand why I don't recommend the book) and found that the path continues another 20 minutes to a second, larger waterfall and leads back to the parking lot. Simple enough.

We decided to venture on. Just after making that decision, I recall shielding my face from a sudden swath of hail that had emerged just as the sun had moments earlier. I saw a strange-looking dog close to us, reminiscent of the flying dog-like animal in the Neverending Story - long, white, shaggy, peculiar. The rest of the hike was just that - the trail was situated on two sides of a high, large set of gorges and a river valley in between. We hiked down and crossed the stream several times, and then came up the 'left' gorge. Rachel slipped and fell, hurting her back. This offered a point of reflection - the sky was getting dark as we approached dusk and the ground was difficult to negotiate, having been subjected to heavy rains earlier that day and the previous night, if not more. With each step, we accumulated more and more mud (boatz, in Hebrew), making the task of reaching the top of the gorge an ever-cumbersome task and requiring us to stomp the mud off our shoes by hitting our heels against each other and nearby rocks.

Finally we reached the top and the parking lot and surrounding eucalyptus trees were in sight. We were on the plateau of the top of the gorge, which made the experience more manageable, despite the continued difficulty and frustration with the mud. As we got closer, we realized that what lied beyond the trees was not at all the parking lot, but rather a deserted house, probably an old partially destroyed Syrian military installation. Having just seen "The Blair Witch Project," I was not at all interested in discovering a new place to explore, especially in the middle of a wooded area with the fall of darkness. At this point I was interested in tempering my fear and anxiety from reaching a crescendo, especially since I was interested in making sure that Rachel did not get frightened and start to panic.

There was something else that we did not find once we were among the trees: the path. Rachel and I were a few feet apart at this point, each starting to look for the trail and get back to the car. I'm not sure from where it came, but I turned to my right and, just about 3 feet away from me, a bull was staring at me as he ate some grass. I backed up, keeping eye-to-eye contact with the massive beast. Having kept my cell phone, water and extra layers in the car since we were anticipating a short tour, the only thing I had with my was my camera. I darted in different directions and began firing the flash to find the painted markings of the path we were following since it had reached a point of darkness that my eyes were having trouble adjusting to the dimmer ambient light. I found myself standing on a fence - not a good thing. The Golan Heights, having been conquered from Syria in 1967 and the site of a major war in 1973, was checkered with land mines, which were blocked off by chain link fences. I recognized immediately that I was standing on one of these fences and that it must have fallen as a result of wear and tear, disturbances from the cattle and other similarly-fated travelers. I retraced my steps backward and made sure to look down before I stepped forward.

After more difficulty and building frustrating from not finding the trail, I realized that the path was in the one direction I had not yet considered: just along the long side of the deserted house. I took Rachel and made sure that we passed the house briskly, but not without physically shielding the right side of my face from its view. We now were walking in ankle-deep water on a downward slope, following a large water pipe. To make matters even worse, since it was the height of the rainy season, the shrubbery was overgrown and impinging our way - complicated even more by the multitude of thorns on the shrubs.

Once we reached the bottom of the slope and leveled off, the water got deeper and the trail tougher to find. I continued to fire the flash to find our way, entering more swamp lands and beginning to get even more impatient with our situation. I thought to myself (and maybe even mentioned to Rachel at the time) that in the very far distance were village lights and that we could follow the lights to get help. At this point, it was completely dark. After attempting several possible directions for where I thought the path would continue, I reached denser plantation. All of the sudden, I saw lights from a passing truck in the distance - this was our rallying point.

Together we began to run as best we could, given the additional weight and burden of the thick mud. The rain began to fall again without pause. After what seemed like hours on the dash to the road and days from the start of the hike, we reached Gesher Pkak - the Pkak Bridge (meaning cork for the narrow passage it provided over the Jordan River). The next car to come our direction was a few minutes later, and was driven by Yehuda, a member of Kibbutz Gadot. I stood in the middle of the road, blocking his way. He rolled down the passenger window and I began to recite in Hebrew what happened to us, in a quite alarming voice. Yehuda just calmed us down and told us to get in the car. He took us back to his kibbutz, which I admittedly hadn't heard of before that night, and with his wife Rina, gave us clean clothes, hot showers, food and a place to stay for the night. After we ate dinner, we went straight from the kibbutz dining hall with Yehuda and the kibbutz's security guard to look for our car. We did find it pretty quickly, considering the saga we previously endured, and came back to the kibbutz to rest.

When I hear Rina and Yehuda retell this story from their perspective, Rina is always sure to note that she remembers that day to be one of the worst weather days on record and heard a specific warning on the radio for that night that drivers should not drive in the area where we were. She also always garners a good laugh when she compares Rachel and me to Ami and Tami, the Israeli equivalent of Hansel and Gretl. Yehuda says in a fatherly manner that we don't know how lucky we were. Aside from the balagan (total chaos) that we experienced, we were certainly lucky to find Yehuda and his family. Every trip I have made to Israel I am sure to be in touch with them and visit them again or see some of their kids around the country and consider them to be my family in Israel. Stay tuned for my next set of those on that [less dramatic] visit.

Another Weekend Begins & More Adventures

Today I finally got a cell phone number, which is due to change tomorrow for some odd reason which will somehow save me money monthly. Stay tuned to see how that works.
Along with my new phone number(s) I sent my first Hebrew texts, which are fun and pretty cool because they have T9 in Hebrew (or should that be ת9 or ט9) and not in English on the phone so it's actually easier to text in Hebrew..

Some weird underlying thought I am beginning to develop, for better or worse, is that I feel like I need to rush everywhere. Not because I'm in a hurry or because I am running late. Rather, every additional second that goes by that you do not have a number and are waiting in line is another second that provides 10+ more people an opportunity to go in front of you. You really don't want to be stuck in the back of a government office/bank/post office line.

Before heading North for the weekend, I made a few quick stops to take care of some more paperwork. I had an 8:30am appointment with the Ministry of Immigration Absorption. Of course I brought the wrong form with me to give them.

On the way to another of these lines - for health insurance this time, a security guard to the building engaged me in a funny conversation. I brought with me a small roller-suitcase for my stuff for the weekend. The guard saw it and started complaining in a heavy Russian Hebrew accent. His philosophy was to let people in the building whom he recognized without putting them through a rigorous security check. Not having seen me before, I guess he wanted me to fit that criteria and complained that his boss was very strict on making him (the security guard!) do his due diligence and actually check peoples' bags.

After receiving my health insurance ID card, I made my way to Jerusalem's central bus station for my exciting weekend getaway to Kibbutz Gadot, in the Upper Galil and on the border of the Golan Heights. I took Bus 963 to Hazor HaGlilit where Yehuda picked me up and took me back to the kibbutz, this time as an invited guest and not a lost hiker (more on that soon). I had some great soup, schnitzel and tea upon my arrival and enjoyed eating even more food not long thereafter for dinner. It was a nice way to begin the weekend and certainly another great transition to Israel by absorbing the Gadot's tranquil setting.

Happy One Week Anniversary!

Today I moved my belongings from Rafi's place, where I have been for my first full week in Israel, to Beit Canada at Ulpan Etzion, just a few minutes by car further Southeast. Ulpan Etzion is an immigration absorption center that provides subsidized housing, meals language instructions and cultural outings for new immigrants from all over the world. This ulpan is unique in that all most all of the participants are part of the single 20s and 30s crowd. I waited around until someone was able to register me and get through some light paperwork and assign me a room. It was actually pretty interesting and telling of the place and experience: during my wee induction to the premises, the facility's coordinator also briefed new immigrants from Kyrgyzstan and France along side me.

Next, I took my belongings to my room. I immediately laughed out loud when I got to the room. It was pretty simple and had no need for all the hangers my mom insisted I take with me (though I did eventually find a closet by the apartment entrance). I wandered around until I could find someone to administer the Hebrew test so they would be able to evaluate into which level class I should be placed. I was very proud that I only got one wrong from all 50 questions - though it was also disappointing because I made a careless mistake and actually knew the answer to the question on which I erred.

Lunch time. It was free and delicious. I met some new friends from Australia, England, Brazil and Detroit City. What a crew. After the meal I headed off back to Rafi's place to take care of some odds and ends. I could have used climbing gear: the incline on that hill was so ridiculous. I'm glad at least at this point that I don't have my bike. Aside from the grade of the road, I found a moment to appreciate the place itself. Though I was a bit unsure of coming to live in Jerusalem, I have really enjoyed it here. If you pause to recognize the spirituality and historical context of the land, it can be quite an incredible and surreal state. The beauty of the open hills and the significance of the place converge here, encouraging my excitement and allowing me to recognize the awesomeness of being able to walk in this newly modern ancient land.

I met Rafi back at his place in Baka and left with him pretty quickly after that to take care of some errands in town. On the bus ride to the center of the city, we noticed a uniquely Israel sighting: a man seated in front of us was studying from the Talmud. First stop: to attempt to complete my health insurance registration. What gave me the notion that the office would be open at 4pm on a Wednesday? I'm not quite sure. Sure enough, whenever they are open, they should be open until the late afternoon. Usually. Except today, when they close at 1pm. Instead of getting aggravated I just left with a smile and an understanding of that's how things work here.

My next stop was the Cellcom cell phone store. After comparing other immigrants' plans, I decided to take something that was a bit more modest and where I was able to find a deal. I again smiled and thought to myself that I'm probably doing a decent job integrating with Israeli society since I now have two cell phones that I will use. Craziness. It's been a great week in Israel and I'm looking forward to more of them.

Jerusalem Day: A Self-Guided Tour

Today I had a free day from my errands and registrations, more because I wasn't able to find the proper offices and the one office that I did find wasn't actually taking customers today. So basically I took it as a sign that there was a government holiday. Or free day, for me.

I set out in the early afternoon with my requisite 1.5 liter bottle of water (slow steps to learning the metric system) and began the adventures. Walking from the neighborhood of Baka through Emek Refa'im and then on a serene, yet slippery, path up to the Old City.

I entered the Old City from the Zion Gate, pocked full of a variety of shells from the 1948 and 1967 wars and perhaps earlier and later, too. This gate is located on the edge of the Armenian and Jewish Quarters of the Old City and, along with the other seven gates of the city, has a pretty interesting history. I made my way through the Jewish Quarter, stopping to take pictures of the Ramban Synagogue, which was originally a synagogue built in the 13th century and, having been completely destroyed in 1948 by the Arab Legion, was just rebuilt and reopened.

After passing through a security checkpoint, I entered the majesty that is the Western Wall Plaza. I never cease to be impressed with this place and the aura, history and spiritualism that surrounds and embodies it. I was very proud of myself for reading a longish sign in Hebrew that detailed the history of the Wall. However, I must admit that even though I understood it all, I mistranslated 'even shtia' as 'drinking rock' instead of 'foundation stone.' To my defense, 'shtia' does mean drink in modern Hebrew..


Before approaching the Wall I washed my hands in a ritual manner and proceeded to an area where I could put on tefilin, which are religious ornaments, so to speak, that are worn during non-Sabbath/holiday mornings. Just prior to the area with the tefilin, I noticed a funny sign that just seemed to be appropriate for the moment, not without biblical language. I wrapped the tefilin properly around my arm and approached the Wall for a prayer. As it has become common practice, I placed a note in the Wall which contained a prayer in it. This time, however, it was not for or from me but rather from a neighbor from Wilmette whose daughter will hopefully regain her health.

I left the Jewish Quarter soon thereafter and headed for the Jaffa Gate, via the Christian Quarter. Winding through alleyways I entered the courtyard of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher through a back entrance I had not yet been through. At least my directional instincts were spot on. I continued through until I exited the Old City and walked through a nice, new shopping center in a neighborhood called Mamilla (I enjoy pronouncing the double 'L' like you would in Mexico). After admiring the shops and outdoor artwork and cafes, I headed for the center of town. There I found a cell phone branch where a friend had referred me to a specific agent. He actually offered a pretty good deal so I might take him up on it tomorrow.

I walked through a bit of a park for some more scenery and greenery along the way and walked down Derech Hevron (literally, Hebron Way), which is actually the way to get to Hevron, as the streets were named pretty logically back in the days of yore. Again, another great day. This time I owe a big thanks to the guide, who really knew his way around and made it quite enjoyable. I'd highly recommend him!

Bureaucracy Continued

Despite not-so-glorious activities, I'm having a great time thus far and enjoy running around doing errands. Every morning as I walk out of my spacious, adopted apartment in my beautiful, adopted neighborhood, I pass a canal of flowers overflowing from the yards around me. Quite a nice sight to begin the day, especially coupled with blue skies and a warm (and oftentimes, very hot) sun.

Today's goals were to open a bank account and register for health insurance.
After visiting the prospective banks in the morning, I came back in the afternoon to finish the business. Not because I had to do other things or that there were complications - simply because the banks close on Mondays and Tuesdays at 1pm for three hours!

I got an account at Bank HaPoalim, which I hope I'll be happy with. After all, their slogan roughly translates to 'to be first, this is required.' Let's see.

I also accomplished going to the post office to register for health insurance. Somewhat of a different system for sure. Tomorrow I'll have to take the form from the post office to the health insurance agency to complete registration.

On the way back I stopped at a small market in a gas station and bought some silver paper, or aluminum foil, and noticed this product. Yes, I finally found some Choke Ella. I wonder who at Nestle came up with that one. I know I wouldn't want it in my throat! Not sure if there are parental advisory warnings on the back label..

Finally - A Productive Day!

So today was the big day. I finally got my sweet, blue-gray te'udat zehut - my very own Israeli identity card.

Now I can finally take care of the other errands and chores that I need to take care of, though I'm still not sure which cell phone company, bank or health insurance to choose. They all seem to offer the 'best' deal in their respective markets and none of those deals seem to be anything to speak of. But we'll see where my research and conversations take me tomorrow..

After receiving my Israeli ID, I took a taxi with my new friend Yael (whom I met on the aliya flight) to an event at the King David Hotel. Along the way, the cab driver repeatedly took a rag and used it to rid his head and armpits of all the sweat that he had accumulated in the preceding few moments. Yes, it was over-air conditioned in the car, but it didn't seem to matter to his pores..or manners. But then again, those are harder to find the further from Chicago you venture.

The event was a discussion between Tzipi Livni, the former Israeli foreign minister, and Abu Ala (Ahmed Qurei), the former Palestinian Authority prime minister. I was pretty excited, since with just a few days in Israel I was able to attend such a high profile discussion. Qurei began the conversation by offering a Palestinian perspective. At first I thought it was pretty interesting to hear his point of view about the frustrations that peppered his government's attempts to negotiate with the Israelis. Then it really just amounted to a slather of complaints. Livni, by contrast, offered her vision and hopes for both peoples and posited this thought: it is necessary to ask what the price of an agreement is versus the price of not having an agreement, arguing that the latter is more costly and detrimental to the future of the State of Israel and that (stating this as she seemingly became emotional) now is the time to make decisions.

On the way to a cafe near the prime minister's residence, we walked past a tent that has been erected to petition the prime minister to push for the release of Sgt Gilad Shalit, an IDF soldier kidnapped by Hamas over four years ago. Hopefully there will be a happy ending to this story..

Since all of the outside tables were occupied, we kindly invited ourselves to sit with a gentleman who was sitting alone and reading. We had a good time joking around with him and, after sitting in the cafe for a couple of hours drinking teh nana, mint tea (really just simply mint leaves in hot water - excellent choice!), I caught the number 74 bus South to head back and watch the soccer match with some hummus. A nice, productive day. Tomorrow comes all of the decisions! Wish me luck..

Shabbat #1 in Jerusalem

With my Jerusalem host taking off for the weekend, I had to figure out something to do. And quick. It was already Thursday afternoon and by the same time the next day people would already be preparing for the sabbath and probably not take kindly to requests for new guests, or so I thought.

Thursday night I miraculously received a message on facebook from an old friend, dating back to my high school era. This friend, Miryam, actually responded to an earlier request to connect with her on the site and, after (admittedly) not sure of who I was, invited me to be with her family for Shabbat.

I walked from Baka, where I am staying, to San Simon, another nice, quiet neighborhood in what might be thought of as southern Jerusalem. Miryam's dining room has a panoramic vista of the Baka and Talpiot neighborhoods, which was incredible to take it. After catching up for a bit, I went to Friday night services with her husband Eli, who took me to a place with quite an eclectic mix of Jews from all over: Breslov rebbies, fur streimels, some settler-types and a kid from Wilmette.

Before returning the next day for lunch, I went to another synagogue nearby and ended up seeing two people that I know. Go figure. Similar to running into people in New York but with the added bonus of nice hospitality! I participated in the services, which were attended by a sizable Anglo population, by blessing the congregation twice during the Birkat Cohanim.

Last night after watching the Uruguay-Germany soccer match and debating the future of Israeli/Palestinian relations with Rafi, I took his dog Max for a long walk. One that I started in hopes of finding Beit Canada, the absorption center that will soon be my home. Without much luck I headed back, but not before stopping at the Goldman Tayelet and admiring the view of the city from the South (pictured above).

In all, this was a great first Shabbat experience here as a resident and I am certainly grateful for the kindness and tradition of hachnasat orchim (hospitality) found in Israel. And look forward to more of it!

On Board Aliya Flight LY 3004

The children are our future.
Yet eerily when the aircraft doors were sealed shut, they all began to cry and transformed themselves into a chorus of screams and crying. They should definitely have an 'only-kids' flight. Or, alternatively, spray the plane with a healthy dose of 'Baby-B-Gone.'
For all intents and purposes there could have been a posted sign that reads:
"Diaper Changing Station: Rows 10-58"
Just imagine what that would do..especially considering that 94 of the 232 of the new immigrants were children!

Take Off!
As the plane lifted off, so did the spirits of the 232 new olim.
Some began to tear; I just smiled with a surreal sort of amazement that the moment had finally come.

I noticed that on the flight, as the babies screamed in excitement for getting to Israel (or whatever it happened to be at all points throughout the journey), there were many people who were barefoot. Not just that they removed their flip-flops in their seats, but actually walking around barefoot. In the aisles, the galleys and..the bathrooms! Certainly not picture worthy.

I took an opportunity to congregate with other passengers in the stern of the aircraft for ma'ariv, the evening prayer service. This would definitely be suspect and probably not permitted aboard a US airline (as evidenced during a flight earlier this year), though was quite the norm on this flight. There was a particular prayer that I took note of that asks God for a blessing to gather the Jewish people from the four corners of the earth and return them to Israel. As might be imagined, I was struck with the repeated meaning and realization that I was 'returning' to Israel as a resident and that this blessing was, in a manner of speaking, going its course for me and the rest of my peers aboard this flight.

(The picture here is not of the evening service but rather of someone praying shacharit, the morning service, directly in front of my seat.)

The Pre-Flight Pause

Prior to going through security at JFK and boarding our flight, we paused for a brief departure ceremony. Rabbi Yehoshua Fass, the co-founder of Nefesh B'Nefesh, remarked that there are many different individuals and families that are going to be on the plane, yet we all share the same journey. There is the same magic that brings us together and he wanted to emphasize the importance of this 42nd Nefesh B'Nefesh flight and to reflect on the momentous occasion.

Rabbi Fass commented on Psalm 126: ״את שיבת ציון היינו כחולמים״
"The return to Zion we were like dreamers" - it would be like a dream, but it is your reality today.

I thought those were pretty simple, yet inspiring and exciting words, given our imminent return to Israel, as a group of 232 and part of a larger contingent of 3,000 new immigrants from just Nefesh B'Nefesh flights this summer alone.

Almost There - Stay Tuned!

Today the preparation of the last few months and weeks culminates in what will surely be an exciting beginning to this adventure.

I am in New York now in transit, just a few hours until I leave for the airport.
Checking last minute tidbits on the Nefesh B'Nefesh website I saw this video, prominently displayed on their homepage.

With a pointed sense of humor and interested in triggering smiles, it captures the significance and meaning this single plane ride has for the 400-plus travelers making aliya. To convey my spirit and approach to this endeavor and life change, I will envoke a Herzl-esque quote, attributed to none other than Henry Ford (a potential contemporary of Herzl's?):
"The best way to predict the future is to create it"

Stay tuned for the live webcast: http://www.nbn.org.il/live/

The arrival ceremonies are going to be broadcast on the above site after we land, which is at approximately 9:15am Israel time on 7/7/2010.