Acclimating Well

The Usual
Every day for lunch I get excited. With few exceptions, I respectfully request of the cafeteria staff for my daily schnitzel. They even know my tastes so well that, in the horrific state of a near drought of schnitzel, they will quickly put one of the remaining slices of goodness on a plate and get it to me if they see me deep in line. To compliment the schnitzel, I make sure to accentuate its flavor with a myriad of other flavors. As is typical, I build a fortress of food for which the schnitzel is the essential building block. The amalgamation of tastes is simply incredible.

Tastes Great, Probably Less Filling
To go along with my culinary preferences, I have discovered a new drink that is refreshing above all others: Limonana. It is a drink with special refreshing powers - lemonade with an infusion of mint (nah-nah in Hebrew). The other drink I regularly order at cafes is tay nah-nah - mint tea. Even simpler, it is hot water with fresh mint leaves and makes you healthier with each sip. At least mentally. To increase the flavor and health attributes, I like to add louisa (lemon verbena) leaves and an ever so slight bit of sugar. Unfortunately the cafes tend not to carry any louisa so I either have to pilfer my roommate's stash or venture outside the metropolitan areas where people have it more in their gardens.

Among other joys, oddities and accomplishments...
Though I have not yet perfected it, I have made much headway in mastering the 'Israeli stare.' This unofficial gaze is commonly used by all Israelis, especially the younger generations. I don't think it is from bewilderment, but perhaps curiosity of the 'other.' They stare at whomever walks down the street with such intent, unavoidable and unwavering concentration. I have come far in that I first noticed it peculiarly, looking away uncomfortably. I then embraced it, still without understanding, and now often win the staring contests, often not disengaging before my opponent. Little steps in building the aggressiveness needed for life here, I suppose.

Mad Skillz
Building confidence and showing off skills that I'm apparently gaining from hours in class each day, I often receive compliments on my Hebrew speaking (and handwriting too, actually). Whenever I'm out and about, to borrow the obnoxious Canadian expression, I always engage Israelis in Hebrew and will make sure to incorporate new vocabulary, sentence structures and the like. Sometimes I try jokes too, but my successful laugh rate is a bit lower than I'd like - perhaps because of translation issues but probably more because of the different styles of humor. A bunch of Israelis also tell me that my accent isn't so prominent and is more like a French accent when speaking Hebrew - just please don't picture a typical Frenchy French accent because that's not at all how I sound. Nor does it mean that I seem like a French person either. At least the ulpan is paying off.

Mobile Integration
So I already carry around two cell phones. Isn't that enough to be on my way to feeling more Israeli? In order to fully feel the culture, I have an Israeli ring on my phone - not the ring that I hear when I get calls, but rather the song that plays for callers instead of the normal beeps. Pretty much everyone has a song of their choosing and I couldn't go without one, lest I not fit in with the forward-thinking digital culture. As I was signing my phone bill contract (which I technically didn't even see), I knew exactly which song I wanted: ארץ חדשה ע"י שלמה ארצי (Eretz Hadasha by Shlomo Artzi). Sung by one of Israel's most loved singers, the name of the song means 'new land.' It's a great song and one that Israelis get excited to sing - think of a similar craziness in the US when "Livin' On A Prayer" or "Don't Stop Believing" is played in bars. Aside from the collective singing fun, it is also a song that resonates with obvious meaning for me.

With the bountifully awesome fruit, views of the Judean Hills and the pleasures of the coastline, my absorption into Israel and Israeli society is agreeing with me quite well, one month in (720 hours, Dad).