The Guy on the Side of the Road....

It gets me every single time.  I'm going to ramble here, so prepare yourselves.

What gets me is seeing someone on the side of the road who's stopped his car and is davening because it's almost past Mincha time.  Last week one morning, driving on a local road,  I saw someone in tallit and tefillin standing next to his car davening.  And I got this stupid goofy grin on my face.  This is normal, this is what we do, it's no big deal.  I know people do this in other countries, but here, no one driving by is wondering what that person is doing - everyone knows because it's routine, it's the norm. No big deal...

But it is such a big deal.

It's always the little things that do this to me, that still fill my heart with gratitude for having the opportunity to live here, to have come home.

I still gasp when I see the landscapes, and always, always, imagine ancient Jews walking towards Jerusalem over the hills. (Yes, I'll admit it, sometimes the ancient Jews look like Charleton Heston).

I am always thrilled to see the dig sites that pop up everywhere, and especially to see the one right in my neighborhood in Modiin - an ancient shul.  

I grew up in America as a stranger.  It was not my country in so many ways.  The calendar revolved around someone else's holidays, someone else's customs.  I had to work around my own holidays, explain explain explain, work overtime on some days to leave early on Friday, miss meetings and events because of Shabbat and Chag, etc. etc. etc.

I appreciate America and American life, but once you live here you realize deep down inside yourself what you've been missing, and it's shocking.  That sense of deep connection to every single person on the street, the fact that the entire country revolves around Shabbat, chagim, Jewish historical events....The fact that you are home in a way you never even knew you could be.

Going to our local mall on Fridays fills my heart - religious and non-religious wishing each other Shabbat Shalom - whether they plan to stay home or go to the beach the next day, they mean it. The mall is set up like a shuk on Fridays, with vendors selling food, flowers, and gifts in preparation for Shabbat.  Most people don't work on Fridays, so it literally is an entire day to get ready for Shabbat - mentally and physically.  By Thursday afternoon, each and every week, the excitement begins to build and the sense of anticipation is palpable.  This is what Shabbat is meant to be, this is how it is supposed to feel.

This week I went into Jerusalem to meet visiting family - imagine me telling my grandparents whose dream it was to even see this country, that I could walk around Jerusalem any time I wanted to.  

I guess the overwhelming feeling is that everything I mentioned above is "normal" when you live here - it's just what you see every day. But it never feels routine - to me it's always thrilling. I can be doing the most mundane task - picking up the dry cleaning, getting gas - and I think to myself, "I am doing this in Israel - how cool is that?"

Pretty cool.  Pretty cool.

   

Ah, Hebrew

As I said in my last blog, learning Hebrew and being comfortable enough to speak to an Israeli are constant challenges for olim.

I can practice and practice, but the words trip over themselves on the voyage from my brain to my mouth and I always end up sounding like an idiot.

Yesterday, though, was interesting.  We had a fix-it person over who only speaks Hebrew.  He is a sweet fellow who has done a lot of work for us.  Interestingly, and shockingly, I was able to speak to him pretty well.  A lot of the words came out of my mouth correctly, and some were words that I didn't even know I knew! 

But I figured it out. There must be a safe that keeps all of the correctly conjugated words in the deep recesses of my brain - there has to be because I LEARNED ALL OF THIS IN ULPAN and I don't remember most of it.  But for some reason, it must have mistakenly been open for a few minutes, and I'm hoping that happens again.

I have found that reticence to speak to Israelis happens with women more than men.  I think that women are more nervous about sounding stupid and men are not (no, I am not man-bashing here, I am man-honoring!).  My conversations with Anglo friends here have borne this theory out.  We are more reticent to "just try" speaking - maybe that's an age thing, but I kind of think it's a woman thing. 

Also, I realize that no matter what I say and how good my accent is, they always know we are Anglos - you just can't fake being an Israeli.  In fact, it must have something to do with physical appearance as well, maybe we Anglos have non-Israeli looks on our faces (less grimaces, more smiles?).  Yesterday we walked into a restaurant and before I had said a word they handed us an English menu.

The nicest experiences are when I apologize for my broken Hebrew and they look at me in shock, saying, "But your Hebrew is great, what are you talking about?" 

However, I am not naive.  I know that the government must pay them to say that ("Keep the Anglos here, tell them they speak Hebrew well!  Do anything, don't let them leave!"  must be the message).

Either way, I am, as I've said before, getting used to sounding dumb and to trying out my Hebrew on unsuspecting Israelis who visibly cringe when I speak. 

And every once in a while I'm hoping that the Safe of Correct Hebrew opens up by accident and I get a complete and correct sentence out without embarrassing myself and the entire Anglo community.

I'll keep trying.  Shalom, see ya.

Three Years

As of today, we've been here for three years.  I will share my accumulated wisdom with you at no charge.

Preparation for aliyah:
Bring less. It's a small country, the living spaces are small, there is very little storage space. 

Living with Israelis:

• They have big hearts and big mouths.
• They will tell you exactly what they think, every time - at first it is a little shocking, but after you realize how much they care, it's sweet - it's kind of like everyone is family.

Living in Israel vs. living in the US

• Customer service is a new concept here (well, maybe that isn't such a big difference) - n fact, some businesses publicize their "American-style service" as an extra
• You cannot get certain US items here, so learn to live without - begging your friends and family to bring you stuff gets old and probably annoys people

Driving
Assume KNOW that every single person in every single car is going to do something stupid NOW

Shopping

• Do grocery shopping online - yes, they charge for delivery but do anything you can to avoid the actual store and, even worse, the supermarket checkout line where:
• Every single customer has an issue, an argument, or a question
• The cashier is threatened with bodily harm if she does not make you buy one of the "specials" available only at the register
• The cashier will tell you that if you buy 10 more of an item, you will save a shekel, and you say you don't want 10 more, and she will start arguing with you
• You will have to fight off 5 store employees trying to convince you to get the store's "club" card

Clothes shopping - meh.  
You have to find the 1 or 2 stores that you can actually find decent clothes in, or just throw your hands up and start wearing cheaply made, weird looking clothing.


Living near Americans
In my opinion (this is serious) - you need to live around people who "get" American culture and upbringing.  I feel that our "frame of reference" is vastly different from an Israeli's, and it is comforting and helpful to have others around you who you can talk to with complete comfort without having to constantly explain yourself. You also need to vent sometimes - well, a lot of the time.

Speaking Hebrew
You gotta face up to the fact that it may take a very, very long time to feel comfortable speaking to a non-English speaker.  If you come here with kids, that is a huge help because they come home speaking Hebrew and you can learn a ton.  As someone without school-age kids, it is a litltle harder.

It is frustrating at times not being able to really say what you want to say, without trying to find a work-around to get your thought out. 

      Some tricks I've learned:

• When you can't find the right Hebrew word, use an English word - most often Israelis understand - even better if you can use the English word with an Israeli accent, e.g., "Ani mechapeset a peekturr freeemm" (I'm looking for a picture frame)
• Dealing with services, stores, etc. - always ask if someone speaks English if you really can't make yourself understood
• Practice what you need to say before you go to a doctor, store, etc. - seriously!  Look it up, ask someone. Facebook is great for this.
• Let other people know you are an oleh/olah and apologize for your Hebrew. Then, immediately, every single time, the person you're speaking to will become the most helpful, kindest, person you've ever met - it's very cool. You might even get a "Bruchim HaBaim" hug.

Medical Care

• There are some things that are super modern - like online appointment sites, results of medical tests online, etc.  
• There are some things that are super archaic - like taking your strep test stick to the lab yourself.
• There are three million kajillion options for levels of medical care and I've been at many Shabbat lunches where we sit around trading medical care stories and each has a different interpretation of the exact same medical benefit plan.  It's a sort of sport here.
  

Danger, War, Sirens
It's a fact of life - you live in a war zone surrounded by enemies.  It's a point of pride, but also very scary.  Then again, life is not that much different, danger-wise, in the US. 

At least here, every citizen feels like a soldier fighting against a common enemy for the life of the Jewish state.

On a serious note, anyone out there contemplating aliyah is most welcome to write to me - leibtag at gmail dot com - to ask pre and post aliyah questions.

We are So Smart

Many of you may already know that if you live in Israel you are often told you have to filter your water.  So when we moved in, we had a water filter attached to the water pipe that brings all of the water into our apartment. We are so smart.

And a couple of times a year, for a minimal fee of three million shekel or so (not including tax), a man comes to our apartment, tells me he is going to change the filter, and goes to the lower level where the pipes and stuff are - to do that.  I assume he does it.  That is, I have never followed him to see him actually do it. 

Last year we gave ourselves a treat and bought a water bar. You are wondering what that is.  It is a countertop contraption that is connected to our water supply and has hot and cold water always ready.

Now, we are not just pampering ourselves, no sirree.  Drinking water is extreeeeeeeeemely important here, especially during the 10 month summer. And I do love me some cold water.  So this way we always have fresh, cold water to drink.  We are so smart.

Now. Here we go.  The other day we get a call. This is the water-filter-changer people.  Don't we want a contract on the water bar like we have on the water filter?  Why, of course we do!  We have many millions of shekel just sitting in piles on our floor waiting to be spent on service contracts. After many phone calls, we finally explain that we do want the contract, we negotiate down the originally-inflated-and-ridiculous-price to the price which-is-still-more-than-they-thought-they'd-get ("Ha!  These Americans!  Give them one discount and they love you!  We are so glad they move here!"), and we are good to go.

Now comes the test of everyone's brainpower. Setting the appointment. After another few calls, I speak to someone in English who sets the appointment for Thursday, December 11, when the technai will come and change both filters.  Excellent!  We are so smart.

This morning (Wednesday, December 10) we receive an SMS - "Hi!  The technai is coming today!"

Huh.  OK, so he is coming today instead of tomorrow.  I can deal with that.

At some point he calls and says he's 1/2 hour away.  Sure enough, 1/2 hour later he shows up.  This is going so well!!!

He comes to the door with a big smile. This is how the conversation goes:

Technai: "I'm here to change the filter downstairs." 
Me: "And the filter on the water bar too!"
Technai: "What water bar?"
Me: "You were supposed to be changing two things."
Technai: "No, look, here on this sheet, it has only one item.  But I'll call them and check."

After he changes the one filter, he returns to tell me that someone will come to do the water bar tomorrow.

An hour later I get a call from the company.  It goes like this:

Co.: "I'm calling to set up a time to change the filter on your water bar."
Me: "I thought you were coming tomorrow."
Co: "Tomorrow?  Well, maybe in the morning..."
Me: "But I already had an appointment for the afternoon.  I won't be here in the morning"
Co.: "But you have to be there because that is when the technai can come."
Me: "But I won't be here."
Co.: "Really?"
Me: "Yes, but how about next week?"
Co.: "NEXT WEEK???? YOU WANT TO WAIT THAT LONG????"
Me: "Yes, it's fine. Please make it for Tuesday."
Co.:  "Tuesday? You really want to wait that long?"
Me: "Yes, it'll be fine."
Co.:  "OK......"

So I'll let you know if we come down with dengue fever from drinking water that has been cleaned by a filter that should have been changed today but won't be changed until NEXT TUESDAY.

In the meantime, I have a headache. I'll take my aspirin with juice.

Head Totally and Completely in the Sand

Wow, what a country.  The entire government of Israel has fired itself.

That's it, guys!  This is not working out, we can't agree, so let's fire ourselves and try again to keep our own parties in power!  In the meantime, we sure are glad that the country is safe and stable because no one is home to fix anything! Wheee!

Seriously, though, I am the last person you want to ask about Israeli politics.  Truthfully - I never understood politics, I find it boring, and I hate reading about it, hearing about it, and talking about it. And thinking about it. 

Why? Because it's basically total fabrications.  While we think the conversation goes like this:

• Politician #1: What can we do to help the citizens?
• Politician #2: We can try to work together, even though we have different views, and find a solution to help people!

It probably goes more like this:

• Politician #1:  New car?  It's cool!
• Politician #2: Thanks!  Let's get coffee!

It's all about backroom deals and money anyway, so nothing you read or hear is ever real.  And the media is biased, so that's a double whammy - fake news and biased reporting.  Seriously, folks.

Therefore, I have a policy never to read the paper or watch the news. And when people at the Shabbat table start talking politics, I have perfected the interested face, wise head nod, etc., while thinking, "Hmmm, that cholent sure is good, I wonder what she puts in it?"

My husband is a news devourer who actually understands Israeli politics and is brilliant and knows Israeli history cold. [Now, I know what you're thinking and you're right - why he married me I'll never know. My favorite mass media is, um, less intellectual - e.g., reruns of "I Love Lucy."]

Anyway, he was fretting over Israeli politics and spoke to our Rav, an 8th generation Jerusalemite, who responded to him, "It goes in phases, things are actually getting much better, don't worry!" 

I like that so I adopted that as my mantra.  And, wonder of wonders, my husband decided to stop reading the paper. [Note to readers - this was something which I advised him to do years ago, but which someone with apparently way more influence - and this does not take much - told him to do two weeks ago.]

So now he is joining me in ignoring the media, but while I maintain this approach steadfastly, I doubt he'll last another week.  Guy loves to read and think and discuss.  Sheesh.

So if you want to discuss something meaningful, like which meat is the best in cholent, I'm here for you.

If you want to discuss politics, go for it.  But I promise you that the cholent discussion will have more meaning.

Still Here

Hi, I'm still here.  Between the chagim and the birth of our new twin granddaughters (kiddush!  two kiddushes!), life has been the good kind of busy.

I have had the chance to polish my baby-care skills, which have gotten a bit rusty, but I still remember which side of the Pamper goes on the bottom, how not to drop a newborn in the bath, and how to jiggle a baby to sleep.

Yet as much as our hearts are full of thanks and joy for the new babies, we hear each day about another horrific event in this country in which an innocent person is murdered in order for someone to make a point of some kind.  An entire family is shattered, and we all wonder, "How would we handle that?  How does anyone handle something so random and vicious?  How are there people like that?"

Still, it becomes part of your life.  You sigh, your heart breaks, you go to the grocery store to pick up milk.  You read the news, you look at the pictures of the funerals, you return a book to the library.  Knowing that wherever you walk, wherever you are standing or driving, someone could purposely run you down and end your life - you kind of have to deal with it, yet not focus on it, every day.

Standing in line at the grocery store, I strike up a conversation with an Israeli who notices my less than perfect Hebrew and asks when I came here.  She says, "Well, of course, you had to come, this is home - everyone has to come home eventually."  I love her.  I mean, so much love I feel like crying.

Today I went to the post office - where all of Israel transacts most of its business, sort of like the Old West.  I had received a letter from the Government offering me money!  yay!  So I had to go to the PO and do stuff there.  The woman behind the counter asked me something, and I gave her my usual "dumber than dirt" look in response.  She smiled and said, in her broken English, "I ask eef you work for you-self or somebody else."  I apologized for not understanding.  She looked at me with the warmest smile and said, "You are here, that's what is important, don't worry about the language, ok?"

Felt like crying again. 

It's starting to feel like last summer - everything feels shaky and tentative, scary beyond scary. But we are still here - all of us - and more are coming.  That's our answer - a warm smile, love for one another, and staying power.  It'll be OK.

Erev Rosh Hashanah - The Sewer, the Nectarines, and the Drama

Well, it's been quite a while since I've written anything - my many fans have asked me what happened, and both of you (Hi, Gila!  Hi, Leezy!) deserve a response.

I guess between the war, the heat, and life I just did not feel very amusing for the past few weeks.  Amusing-ness is slowly returning, although hearing yesterday that there was a terrorist action planned in Gush Etzion for Rosh Hashana did not do much to lighten my mood.

But here are some interesting anecdotes for your pre-Rosh Hashanah reading:

1. The sewer cover
A few weeks ago I noticed a clunk-clunk sound outside my window.  I figured something had fallen in the street and cars were driving over it.  Then I realized that it was a loose sewer cover.  For some reason (nerves on edge anyway after this summer) it really bothered me.  I mean, I got to figure out what KIND of vehicle was driving over the sewer cover by the length of time between clunk 1 and clunk 2 (long delay - truck, tiny delay - motorcycle).  My son in law Donny then asked his Israeli friends which terms to use to complain about this.  And guess what?  I called the city office and complained - in Hebrew! Yesterday!  And guess what?  It got fixed!  Yesterday!  Moshiach is coming!

2. The treif nectarines
Yesterday I took my grandson Yaakov to the toy store.  He had some of his own money and wanted to spend it on something for himself.  Of course, since Bubby took him Bubby purchased the toy, as well as toys for everyone else, and told Yaakov to keep his shekel for another time.  This resulted in a huge smile and big hug and kiss.  Totally worth it.

Anywayyyyy, after the toy store I noticed a grocery store right there, and since I needed the requisite "last few things" before chag.  I went in.  Lo and behold they had nectarines - I loooooove nectarines but we are at the end of the season here and my local store didn't have many this week.  I was so happy and bought a bunch of them.  Came home and told Gila, who proceeded to laugh at me.  "Ha, ha, that's the TREIF store!"  Yes, folks, I managed to buy fruit at the one store in Modiin that is truly treif - meaning their fruits and vegetables do not have trumot and maaserot taken from them, and they actually sell pork.  Of course, I had eaten one of the nectarines before I called her. Oops.

This resulted in my immediately dumping the nectarines into the trash as if they were poison.  Funny how these things affect you two days before Rosh Hashana. Then,. many inquiries later, I was told that I did not need to do this (thank you Gila, thank you Kate) and retrieved the fruit from the trash (yes, I washed them) and then performed a lengthy ceremony in which I did the terumot and maaserot taking myself, and let me tell you it was interesting. It involved a cloth, 1/4 of a nectarine, and money.  And a trash can.  Don't ask.

3. Building drama
OOOH, this one is good. In Modiin there are extremely strict laws about adding to one's home - I mean they actually come around and check to make sure you have not changed anything which might result in the city squeezing 100 more shekel out of you for your property tax.

Well, it is a lengthy process to get approval to do anything but one of our building-mates came around asking all of us to sign our OK on his plan to cover his mirpeset with a pergola.  "Sure," we thought, "why not?"  Well, suffice it to say that had we seen a drawing of the monstrosity that he was going to erect, none of us would have agreed.  This new structure has caused untold grief and anguish among the other apartment owners.  It is amusing to watch Israelis argue.  

4. Shmittah
Oh, and shmittah starts tomorrow, so watch for some interesting "Oy! I forgot to save the peels!" anecdotes as the year progresses.  I have read all of the literature and I still have no idea what to do.


So with that, I wish all (both) of you a year of health, fulfillment, unending joy, and kosher nectarines.