jewshi

Just came back from sushi. Did you know that Tel Aviv has the most sushi restaurants per capita besides Tokyo? I didn't order sushi. I ordered a deep-fried sushi sandwich (don't worry...it's the only thing I ate today besides hummus and cereal). It had salmon, avocado, and mozzarella cheese. Don't ask me why I ordered it. I figured, in a country in the middle of the desert, that is "technically" in Asia, although there are no asians in sight...the sushi must suck. So I ordered something battered and fried...the furthest thing from the real stuff.

Previous to our sushi simcha, we visited the Tel Aviv Art Museum which surprisingly had an extensive collection of Klimpt, Picasso, Miro, and also a crazy awesome featured photo exhibition on Chapelle. I walked through the aisles of paintings and sculptures alone, appreciating the stark quiet and absorbing everything off the walls like a sponge.

Then we went to a small cafe where this french guy in the Rimon Music Program was having an open mike night...for himself...on his 30th birthday. A couple days ago he went around to every ulpan classroom and announced he was playing in a cafe and that everyone should come. To our surprise the cafe was packed with everyone from our ulpan. He played the same exact songs as he does every day during break on the out-of-tune salon piano in our classroom: Hey Jude, Bohemian Rhapsody, and some french love song.

What else did I leave out since I last posted? I went to Jaffa yesterday with my roomie Olivia, and our friend Sarah and her boyfriend. We went to the flea market, but I often find that there is so much stuff repeated over and over throughout the rows of stalls that I am overwhelmed. Also I hate haggling for things. It makes me feel like a shmuck. These people are making a living, and I am cheap. It just doesn't work.

My phone is still broken. It's actually not been that bad. It's just a safety hazard, I guess. So to solve that problem, I just glue myself to Anna or Olivia who have cellphones. I'm sure it bothers them.

We leave tomorrow for Jerusalem at 6:30 AM. It's early. We're doing the tunnels by the tower of David. Then a bunch of other stuff. Including a Hakafot tour on Simchat Torah around all different synagogues. I just hope it's not like Slichot. I'm not bringing my laptop, and I'm not going to be cellularrlyyy connected by phone, so I'm really going to be incommunicado. I will crave social contact. I should not become a monk.

blah blah blah blah. i'll be back saturday night. In time for ulpan the next morning!

shalom!

Shabbat Shalom! Love, Wenchies

Yom Kippur

I really got to get up to date.

Here's the chronicles of Yom Kippur at the Old City.

Anna and I wake up early enough to insure that when transportation shuts down at noon, we won't be stranded at the Central Bus Station with smelly homeless creeps on Yom Kippur.

We caught the bus, no problem. Platform 607.

I slept on the way there.

Arrived at the bus station and some french guy (always the french) asked if he could split a cab with us because we were both heading to the Old City. According to Masa's Safety Handbook Article V, Clause 5, we are not supposed to share cabs with anyone. So we paid a little more to make sure we didn't die.

The cab was 35 sheck. Dropped us off at Jaffa gate. We were in search of the Heritage House. I wrote down Ha'Melech St. but the only one we could find was Ha'Melach. So, we walked by it and decided to get pizza from the last restaraunt open in the Old City.

After lunch, we continued to pursue our home for the evening. Nobody knew where the Heritage House was. We were asking tourists. Of course they are all tourists. We are right by the Western Wall. I asked a maintenance worker. He's cleaning the streets...he probably knows them all. He pointed us right to Ha'Melach. I felt sheepish.

We knocked on the door and the most adorable, young, british, orthodox girl let us in. Technically we weren't supposed to show up until 1:30, so we had 2 hours to kill. She let us drop our stuff off, and we wandered the streets of J-Ru, which was slowly transitioning into a holy ghost town.

We walked to the Wall. I prayed there for the first time since the March of the Living. The cold stone felt good on my cheek. It was beautiful.

We met one of Anna's friends from Yeshiva who showed us to a narrow stairway that led to a rooftop overlooking the entire Old City. It was so secret and quiet. The Dome of the Rock looked like James and the Giant Peach. Or just the Giant peach. We lapsed time and watched the city empty. Slowly, all that became visible were the ivory veins of the Jerusalem stone streets.

We found the Hostel again and were let in this time. There were bunk beds inside inhabited by 15 or so lazing girls in their 20-somethings. I saw there were beds on the porch and quickly claimed one as my own. I took a nap outside before it was time to prepare for the pre-fast meal.

I dressed in white and helped the woman running the Hostel (from CA, and Brooklyn...had a lot of babies) set up for dinner. There was some kind of chicken thing. Rice. Salad. Drinks. I ate a lot of the chicken in yellow sauce and drank until I knew I would regret it later in schul, sitting in the middle of the aisle of intently praying women.

We went with all the women to the Aish Center. It's a modern orthodox establishment that had so much extra funding that it decided to blow it all on an uber-powerful air conditioner. I was a poopsicle.

The services were very user-friendly. Rabbi announced pages. Lectures in the side room. Nice bathroom.

It was incredible to pray facing the Western Wall and actually SEE the wall from the window. Praying for Jerusalem, watching the setting sun drenching it in gold, it suddenly all became very real.

After services, we went to the hostel and I went to bed. As I saw the clouds glide over our patch of sky, I was reminded of a prayer I read earlier about sins being wiped away like mist. There are no stars in Tel Aviv. I fell asleep smiling.

I woke up at 6:50 AM and went back to the Aish Center. On the way, there were hundreds of Asian tourists taking pictures of us. We first looked for this Carlebach place but the women's side looked like a rat hole in a kitchen, so...yeah. Services were long. 3.5 hours. We left at Yiskor to take another nap. We woke up at 5ish and went to the Kotel, which from a distance looked like a gum ball machine with only white gum balls. We made our way up through the crowd to that grate where you can watch the mens side. I saw 3 sephardic services and 4 other ones. It was a dull roar of men chanting. We stayed there until we heard the shofars blow. Anna and I both agreed they should have a digital projection of how many minutes left until the end of the fast...like Times Square or something.

Chabad was dishing out free grub at the entrance of the Kotel. People were swarming. Anna risked her life to grab me a chocolate roll. It tasted like sin. Some more people were hosting free break-fasts so I grabbed a "bagel and cream cheese" which tasted nothing like the real thing. You'd think the Land of the Jews would be able to make the food of the Jews. But on an empty stomach it all tasted like ambrosia.

Stopped at Cafe Cafe and ordered a hot chocolate. Then we got the bus home. It was so crowded. people were sitting in the aisles. Got home. Showered. Bed felt nice.

Best (can I say "best"?)

Yom

Kippur

Ever.

Slichot

Okay. A lot has happened since...since I last blahged.

I'm gonna split it up.

Here it goes.

Wednesday I had ulpan like any other day. I have this problem: I sketch people with beards in my Ulpan workbook and they subconsciously end up coming out like my hairy Ulpan teacher. I hope he doesn't notice.

That's besides the point.

After coming home from Ulpan, we were summoned to meet our group at 8 on a coach bus destined for Jerusalem. The ride there was lengthy on account of the traffic. We ended up getting there around 9 PM. We met this tour guide who had no idea what he was talking about. We went to visit King David's "grave"and he told us a story that went like this:

"King David was a rich man. He saw a woman named Batsheva who he wanted to take as his own. But she was married. So he sent Batsheva's husband, who was at war, to come home from battle to sleep with his wife because David felt bad, and the husband said NO because his men were at war, he wasn't going to get sex. So David sent the husband to the front of the line of troops so he would get killed off. Is this a myth? Maybe. It shows that nobody is perfect."

I had no idea what he was saying. It could have been kinda inspiring...like being in the Old City on the holiest night of the Jewish Calendar.

It gets crazier.

Our guide decides it would be an experience to take us to the Western Wall on Slichot (Slichot, literally means pardon or forgive, are prayers for forgiveness. They are mentioned in the Mishnah as prayers before fast days).

Our guide tells us that it is the craziest day at the Wall of the year.

Our guide does not tell us when and where to meet.

Our guide does not tell us that the crowds will be so swollen with angry Israelis, so packed with sweaty Haredim without deodorant, so stiflingly vacuum-packed with noise and infinite chaos.

I think, this program is called the Israel Experience. I'm here to experience Israel. I'm gonna dive into the crowd.

It's not long until I think...I'm gonna die.

As soon as I make it down the steps to enter the Kotel, I am sandwiched between bodies, each heading opposite directions. I felt like a grain of sand between two tectonic plates. On a movie screen was a projection of the Chief Rabbi of the Wall chanting Slichot prayers. I couldn't tell what he was really saying (I think he had a stroke). I was about to break down. I hadn't signed up for this (It was already 1:30 AM). I wanted my orange down quilt on my bed in my clammy Tel Aviv apartment. I tried to change directions and head for the stairs. I was squished against an empty tollbooth next to a bearded man with terrible B.O. The crowds were so smooshed like they were constipated. I ended up opening up the window of the toll booth and siting on the sill of it. People were pressing up against it. The tollbooth was moving. Like it was a phantom. A Phantom Tollbooth.

I made it to the stairs to the way back to the menorah (I had texted a friend where and when to meet). When I reached the first step, a Hasidic man shouted, "KAPAROS! KAPAROS!" Kapparot is an ancient and mystical custom connected to Yom Kippur. It is often performed on Slichot. The ceremony involves taking a chicken (a white rooster for a male, a hen for a female) and waving it over one's head while reciting this prayer: "This is my exchange, this is my substitute, this is my atonement. This chicken will go to its death while I will enter and proceed to a good long life, and peace." Then the chicken is slaughtered and it (or its cash value) is given to the poor.

This Hasidic man, calling to me to have a chicken swung over my head, made some sense to me. I felt drawn to it. Maybe because I had already been through the large-scale Jewish version of a rush-hour train in Tokyo, I figured what could be crazier?...what the hell, I'll do this. Or maybe because I felt so impure from being sweated and breathed and stepped on, groped, grabbed, and yelled at, I wanted a lowlife chicken to suck all that bad energy out of me. I suffered in this crowd. Now you, mama hen...it's your time to suffer.

I bought a sachlab ( warm rose pudding with nuts, coconut, cinnamon, and cardamom) and a sesame beigel (a oblong loop of sesame bread with tiny packets of za'atar spice wrapped in butcher paper for dipping in) to cool my inflamed emotions. I slept the whole bus ride home and got home at 4:30 AM. I slept for 4 hours and it was back to Ulpan to draw more curious pictures of my hairy teacher.

P.S. The pictures are of the crowds at the Kotel, and of the man that swung that poor hen over my head. The video is me when I escaped the crowds and was enjoying the jamming of some Yeshiva boys' band.

Went to the Western Wall for Slichot Services. Didn't get back until 4:30 AM.

It was a balagan. I got a chicken swung over my head amidst the crowds. I'll write more. I'm in a rush to get to Jerusalem before noon...which is when all transportation shuts down.

I am apologizing through the internet (because the age of technology has made the Day of Transgressions just oh so much more convenient) for anything worth apologizing for....

Now into the Book of Life.

So may it be written...so may it be done

Fear and Loathing in Ha Eretz

Too lazy to make beautiful writing today.

B&D

I had a great nights sleep last night. Filled with interesting dreams. Probably un-interpretable. I dreamt that Nikki, Hannah, Lindsay, Olivia, and I were escaping the Nazis in Warsaw. When the gestapo officer announced we were to board the cattle cars, I thought of a plan to escape (somehow I foresaw my own demise...or i knew how history played itself out...I have obviously been reading too much Slaughterhouse Five). I sprinted past the tracks, bullets sparking as they hit the steel rails, missing me. I ducked into a nearby shop and hid in between the clothes rack. By the sickening smell of patchouli, I quickly realized I had sought refuge in one of those organic, beatnik stores owned by a crazy cat lady. The crazy cat lady was jew-friendly. And when a gestapo officer came in to search the shop, she pulled out a ballerina costume and told me to act graceful. She explained in Russian that I was a visiting ballerina from Prague, a Sugarplum fairy in the Nutcracker. (but it was summer!). I spotted hair gel and remembered that dancers use a lot of hair gel, so i smeared a lot of it onto my bun. I did some stretching. Tried to make it look legit. And I lived.

After a dream that on an MRI probably would have looked like my neurons had just snorted a line of coke off a toilet seat, I woke up to the sound of "New York, New York" (my roomate's ringtone). Took two Dayquil, drank a hurried cup of tea, ate an apple with peanut butter.

Ulpan was great today. My teacher says I have a convincing accent. I think my whole class thinks I have diarrhea because I keep on going to the bathroom to blow my nose with toilet paper.

During break, I returned a dress that I had bought the previous day that looked funny. I exchanged it for a white one because I realized I had no white clothes for Yom Kippur. (P.S. I am going to Jerusalem for Yom Kippur and staying in a MASA program hostel for a (suggested donation) fee of 50 NIS. Includes pre-fast meal and break-fast, seminars, services, lodging, the works.

For lunch, I thought it would be healthy and economical to pack myself a salad. But most of it leaked all over my bag. My journal smudged...my Burts Bees now glides over my lips like a chapstick that's been through the wash. eww.

After Ulpan, I went to the Bezalel market with Anna and Noa. Turns out it's just a big freaking pile of clothes. Israeli Goodwill. And israelis don't have good fashion sense when it comes to brand new clothes, nevermind secondhand clothes. I think most of the stuff the vendors stole off the back of trucks. They had everything from child's lycra dance costumes to baskets of nail filers.

We went to Shuk Ha Carmel to buy laundry detergent from the guy whose shop we spilled softener all over yesterday. He didn't recognize me. We bought Tide in powder form. A brand I could trust. and a toilet cleaner. and israeli Pantene conditioner :)

I bought a shitty burger at Burger Ranch. It was soooo bad. The pickles were sweet dill ones. No onions. The only good part about it was that as i was eating, I could look out the window and see the Chasidic man running around the main square, claiming he was the Messiah. And the fat woman singing israeli karaoke.

Came back to the flat. Did laundry. Showered. Left to meet our group to go to....drumroll....

wait...

no. wait...

THE BLIND/DEAF SHOW!!!! (really called "NOT BY BREAD ALONE")

that was the surprise our Madricha had for us.

I tried to contain my excitement over having already seen it. The cool part was that we actually had coffee (I had chai) and cake at Cafe Kapesh (I like to call it Deaf Diner).

The waiters could only speak sign language...and hebrew sign language is nothing like American sign language, so my lyrical signing of the song "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys was wasted on them.

The show itself was more enjoyable than last time. Maybe because i was more mature and handled it like an adult.

While the actors were baking bread, I was salivating. It was damnnnnn good bread. I saw old jewish women wrapping up pieces in napkins and stashing it in their purses.

The air conditioner is broken and i think i'm gonna sweat this night out in undergarments. There is a really drunk Spanish group outside our door...one of them must have a baseball bat because theres this really loud CRWHACK sound every 20 seconds or so.

I am sitting on my bed. Ready to sleep. Rrrrrrready to rrrrrrrrumble.

Kiss and Tel Aviv

Yesterday was a day to end all days. I left the house at 8ish and didn't get home until 9:30. I toted enough cold medicine to last me, but I was really wiped out. I was falling asleep in ulpan, and I wanted to take a nap on the couch but it was me on one couch and the ulpan teacher on the other, which warranted an ugly session of small talk. I ended up saying i had to get something to eat and bought an apricot creamsicle at the corner store.

After ulpan, we met at the dog park where Maya (our madricha) had falafel for us. It was surprisingly my first falalfel this time in israel, and it was surprisingly good. We played on the outdoor gym equipment and the playground swings until we had to leave to catch the bus to the radio station. Galgalatz is israel's number one radio station, run by the Israeli army. To me, it looked like a room with a couple of chairs and a bunch of switchboards with a few knobs. Really unimpressive. Some dudes with Ray Bans passed by us and winked and Maya and the other madricha were oohing and ahhing and gasping...apparently they were very famous musicians. Nobody I had heard of.

It was big news when Galgalatz started using MP3s to play their songs versus painstakingly searching for CDs every time they wanted to broadcast music. So...we got to explore the extensive CD and Vinyl collections from years past. They were on wheely shelves that lined walls from ceiling to floor. It was really cool to slip in between two shelves of records...having someone on either side push the shelves to squish me...and just smelling years of old israeli folk music.

We then got a half hour or so to explore Jaffa at dusk. It was incredible to hear the muslim call to prayer which resonated through the city like eerie, hauntingly beautiful church bells. There were a lot of arabs buying burekas and fresh-squeezed juice. I was thirsty and thought I'd seek refreshment at a local juice stand. I ordered a limonana. The vendor squeezed several lemons at once with a machine that looked like a medieval torture instrument, and picked off fresh mint leaves. It was the best limonana i'd ever had.

And then as I sat down on the park bench, the condensation on the cup caused it to slip out of my hands and I spilled it all over myself. A car full of israeli men saw me swearing at the mess that was me, and laughed. Everybody plays the fool...sometimes.

Hands sticky and mouth pouting, I walked with the group to a lecture, chatting with a Brazilian guy on the Rimon music program. We discussed vegetarianism, sitars, his distaste for jewish girls, all in spanish. So many weird people on this trip.

The lecturer was this scrawny jewish british guy who was very well-informed, but a big blabber. We hadn't eaten since 2:30 and it was 8 and the room was air-conditioned and the seats were cushioned and the lecturer's voice was deep and british like a boring BBC special. My eyelids were heavy.

I did learn some about Israeli parliament and current issues. And they gave us crappy pizza afterwards. Israel has TERRIBLE pizza (think ketchup on a tortilla).

I got home, took my medicine, and allowed my subconscious to meander down a lazy river of nyquil which emptied into a sea of dreams.

I awoke the following day, today, rested and refreshed. My roommate sprained her ankle the previous night and stayed in, so I was sort of alone in class. Ulpan was not as boring. I learned how to conjugate infinitives, and we were thrust into the streets of Tel Aviv to practice our conversational hebrew with the Natives. They were very patient and nice. I met an old man who was a chef at a restaurant on Allenby. I asked him "Ma Ha'Matzav?"...what's your state?...and he thought I was asking him his marital status, so he said..."ani nasu"...I am married...and walked off thinking I was a creepy american prostitute or something.

After Ulpan, Anna, Noa, and I walked to Shuk HaCarmel, the Carmel Market. On the way are these really amazing, cheap boutiques. I bought two awesome sports bras, sunglasses, a dress, two unitards, and a shirt all for 150 NIS. The actual market was eye candy. I bought cucumbers, onions, mint, parsley, sesame bread, greek yogurt, apples, a carrot, lemons, and a pepper for under 20 NIS (there are 3.7 sheckles to a dollar, mind you). I love the shuk. And yes, sarah...I got three pairs of your israeli underwear. 15 sheckles more thank my vegetables. I guess I should go back to get more. I wanted to buy some laundry detergent to do the wash, but as I was scoping out the shelves, I tipped over a gallon of fabric softener. I ran out of the shop as quickly as possible, with the store-owner yelling, "Hey, woman! You will pay!"

He didn't actually say the second part of that...but i can imagine that he would have chopped off a finger or something if he'd caught me.

On the way home, I got one of those healthy soft serve yogurts and we took the bus back to the apartment.

I made a kick-ass salad out of my new leafy green treasures. I'm going to go to sleep early again tonight. Laundry can wait (it has been...in a giant ziplock bag shoved under my bed). Tomorrow I think Noa's taking us to the Bezalel craft market after ulpan.

poop

Today I slept. read. slept. sneezed. slept. watched Hunchback of Notre Dame for the 4th time. The only time I got out of bed was to get cotton balls and cold medicine at Super Pharm and then WackyMac (they didn't have Ramen noodles or adequate instant soup mix)

They don't sell cold medicine over the counter. You have to ask the pharmacist for permission. I waited in line for 15ish minutes for the pharmacist behind the counter. He wore a lab coat and had a unibrow shaped like a crow flying in the distance.

This was the conversation that transpired between me and dr. unibrow:

Dr. U: ?שלום. איך אני יכול לעזור לך

Me: What? I don't speak Hebrew.

Dr. U: How may I help you?

Me: I am sick. I have a cold.

Dr. U: Can you describe you symptons? Do you have a cough?

Me: No. My throat hurts, my nose is dripping. My hair tingles, my body's tired. My head feels like it's imploding and exploding at the same time.

Dr. U: You have symptons that are the same for this (he turns around and pulls out a box the size of three sticks of butter)

Me: Is that Nyquil?

Dr. U: Ze Acamol Tsinun Lee-quee-jellz. It will make you better.

(Dr. U mumbles something about dosage and asks me if i'm allergic to anything)

Me: Nope. Thanks.

Dr. U: Betach. With cotton balls, 50 NIS. Feel Better. Shana Tova!

So I've been sleeping because we have ulpan tomorrow. Just got a text that we are going to an israeli radio station and they're paying for our lunch and dinner.

I had no idea today was 9-11 or that we're switching the clocks back. Noa screwed up the T.V so we don't get BBC anymore. I am stuck in my own bubble.

I'm on the mend, though. There are yellow pills for the day and red pills for the night. My head is clearing up. I showered. It's all sababa.

AND we just killed our first cockroach. It flew. It had antennae like Wahowwwww. I speared its head with a squeegee and then its legs were still moving so my roommate chucked an ashtray at it. Then i flushed it down the john. We shrieked like girls. Pictures to follow.

Shabbat Sha-AAACHOO!

Just got back from a beautiful day at the beach. There were schools of fish about the size of my hand with mouths the size of silver dollars, skimming the surface with their fish lips trying to pick up remnants of sunscreen oil, dead skin cells, and human feces. There was also an adorable pair of naked toddler twins romping around in the sand. Like baby, malibu adam and eve. I wish I could do that. The water was as warm as a bath. I passed the half-way mark of Anna Karenina.

I am getting a cold. I am sniffly and my throat hurts, so i just went to the AM-PM to buy chunky peanut butter. I made myself a PB & J sandwich that tasted like America.

Shabbat is tonight. I think my roommate and I are going to make Breakfast-for-Dinner. Eggs, homefries, toast that kinda stuff.

It's convenient I have tonight and tomorrow to sleep in and rest up for Ulpan.

Hot Fun in 5771

I know it's been a while since I've updated this.

I know it's a lot more impersonal listing things, but it's gotta be done...partly to get my memory cogs turning again, and also for your sake (because I know you have more important things to do than read about my epicurean lifestyle abroad)

Monday Nightish

Had Ulpan class...we are learning more "basics" of conversational Hebrew. Here's an example from my textbook.

דוריס: שלום, איך קוראים לך?
איציק: קוראים לי איציק.
איציק: איך קוראים לך?
דוריס: הם קוראים לי דוריס. האם אתה עולה חדש?
איציק: לא אני תייר מברזיל.

.Doris: Hello, what do they call you?

Itzik: They call me Itzik.

Itzik: What do they call you?

Doris: They call me Doris. Are you a new immigrant?

Itzik: No. I am a tourist from Brazil.

...One small step for Itzik and Doris, a giant leap for Aliza Gans.

I have befriended the "Mitz Man" (mitz means juice in hebrew) stationed ten feet from my ulpan classroom, and on mornings when i don't have time to make breakfast, I order a fruity breakfast cocktail from him. Monday it was Pommegranite Orange Mango. Tuesday it was Orange Carrot Ginger. It's only 7 sheckles.

After ulpan I went to hunt for a place to develop photos with Anna. I went home at 6ish and my friends in my apartment were leaving for the beach. We swam and watched sunset over the mediterranean. I swam on my back so i could only see a blackened sea and the constellations and the waves rocked me. Talk about a Wonderdome.

Tuesday

Went to Ulpan, they gave us apples and honey for the holiday. That night we went to a concert at the port, which actually sucked because it was a band that covered American songs in an Israeli accent. But we had french fries afterwards which made up for it. Israelis aren't too keen on ketchup, so they only had little packets of which we used until the wrappers piled 5 inches high.

Wednesday

Woke up late, had that realization that it was 2 hours before I was supposed to take a bus to jerusalem to visit my friends Yoash and Marina for Rosh Hashanah. I frantically stuffed some clothes into my carry-on, turned off the air-con (British/Israeli term for AC) and hid my laptop in the oven. We purposely finished all the food in the fridge before the holidays so I ran to the nearest Aroma with Anna for a much needed cappuccino and delicious egg sandwich (only 12 NIS (sorry I keep on detailing how much things cost...partly because I know my mom is giving me food allowance and I don't want her to think I am blowing it all on bon bons...i am a spend thrift when i need to be).

We searched for the bus stop that would take us to the Central Bus Station only to find that it was right across our apartment. Arriving at the bus station was like being teleported from the Soho to Harlem. It was poorer and dingier. The station was filled with Ethiopian Jews, Vietnamese, Thai, Indian, and all sort of other cultures I didn't know existed in a presumed-to-be white jewish state. I looked for platform 607 which drives directly to jerusalem. The driver said i needed a special ticket, and pointed in the direction of the ticket booth. I followed his finger arrow in circles until i realized i had missed that bus. I found the ticket booth, bought a ticket for 15 NIS (not bad!) and was first in line for the next bus that arrived five minutes later. (It's funny how local transportation is more confusing than international travel). I found a window seat where I could "ooh and ahh" at the plains and groves on the way to Jerusalem. Triumphantly inking into a cushioned seat in a bulletproof bus, I felt I could do anything.

At the Jerusalem station, Yoash picked me up in his overly pineapple-air freshener-scented car and drove me back to his apartment. He was really good at pointing out landmarks and showing me around. Marina had fractured her rib a couple days before, but she still somehow managed to make schnitzel and salad for lunch. I met Lavi who is about a year and two months old. He has four teeth and has very long eyelashes.

We left to go to Marina's grandmother's house. If dinner there was a portrait, it felt like a Chagall. It was so culturally striking yet warm and welcoming. Everyone toasted to each other and laughed. I'm almost glad i didn't understand a word. It probably would have been less charming. Marina's grandmother, Ellie, prepared a three-course meal all out of her crammed, old age home kitchen. I befriended Ron, a five year old russian boy obsessed with cars and spinning tops. I taught him how to spin the top upside down and made a ramp for his race cars to zoom down. I helped myself to salads upon salads, all made with mayo. Gefilte fish pureed and poached in the natural fish. Shuba: a jello mold of cold lox and whitefish with mayo, onions, scallions, and beets. Homemade blintzes filled with mushrooms and chicken. I didn't even eat the main course. For desert we had tea, homemade cream puffs, fruit, and cake. One could say my stomach felt like those russian nesting dolls.

I slept on a futon in the living room. The baby kept on waking up in the middle of the night, so i had trouble staying in one stage of REM.

The next morning Yoash made omlettes and then we left to his family's house in Beer Sheva. His family is sweet and warm and they didn't speak much english so i had a good time watching Israeli toddler dvds in the living room and trying to not look so pathetic. There was another abundance of food...a bit different this time. Fried morroccan cigars, meat bureakas, chicken wings, steaks, skewered chicken livers and hearts, malabi (a rose pudding topped with toasted coconut), chocolate balls, fruit salad. It was enough to cause a bulimic to overflow the septic system.

Yoash's mother and father gave me a honey cake and new calendar to take home. I slept on the car ride back and embarrassingly woke up in a puddle of my own drool. I arrived to a charmingly messy apartment, all to myself for an hour. Olivia came back and we searched for a midnight falafel fruitlessly until we settled for greek yogurt and toast back at the ranch.

And now i'm here. It's a new year. I don't have anyone to go to synagogue with, so I'm introspectively reflecting. Olivia invited her friend to crash for the night here. I think i'll walk to the beach and buy some pasta to make for shabbos.

Here's to 5771...in Jerusalem!

Od Parm

I am lounging in my bed after a boring but eventful day.

I woke up early for ulpan classes. I ate a banana with chocolate spread. The first half of the banana was rotten. The ends of bananas in israel have little fiber tassles on it. They are fatter than U.S. bananas.

The walk to ulpan is 20 minutes straight up Dizengof St. The woman working at the front desk gave me back my placement test that I had taken several days before and it had a class number on it--Aleph 2. That means I am in the beginning level, but slightly higher. I'm somewhere in the middle (chetzi means middle). The ulpan center looks like a ramshackle YMCA. I find my classroom. There to greet me is Shmuleck, a short, incredibly furry israeli with the kind of lisp that makes "salmon" sound like "thamon". He's adorable in a completely unattractive way.

Everyone else in the class is from Masa's Career program, which consists of college graduates interning in tel aviv to broaden their resumes. I was the youngest, though the boys didn't seem to notice (jk, dad).

We started lessons with printing the aleph bet. My brain shattered like a liquid-nitrogen-submerged onion dropped on cement. I was that pathetically bored. If we don't pick up the pace tomorrow, I think i'm going to switch classes. Thank hashem for doodling.

We do, however, get frequent breaks. On one I went to one of those five-sheckel fresh juice stands (mitz means juice) and ordered orange-carrot-ginger. That gave me some energy and the ginger soothed my digestive system from yesterday's shwarma with extra harif. On lunch break I bought an egg omlette pastry from another stand. I think I'm going to start to pack my lunch...otherwise i'll become morbidly obese. On the way home from ulpan (which triumphantly ended at 2:30) I bought a watch. It is gold. It custom fits me. It is a casio with a gold face. I think I overpaid because the girl hesitated on the price...I was too meek to haggle with her in hebrew (that is what ulpan is for).

I left ulpan and my roomate Anna, my friend Noa, and I went to the Dizengof Center...the most magnificent 4-leveled mall in Tel Aviv. I bought a pair of schmancy, khaki, high-waisted pants with a belt at Zara. One could say I splurged today. This is truly the only time I have bought any material objects. I don't have such a bad case of buyer's remorse. They are some shmexy trousers.

We went back to the apartment to change and to get money for grocery shopping. It was olivia's idea to make eggplant parm for dinner. We walked a little further...to Ben Yehuda...to a bigger super store to buy cheaper groceries than at the AM/PM next door. I felt very independent and confused pushing a cart down aisles of foreign goods. Later as I was sautéing onions and garlic for the sauce, I realized I had bought sour salt instead of regular (I just searched the jar for the word melach, salt, and ignored the rest of the print). I guess that's when the AM/PM becomes convenient... for last minute stops.

The sauce I made would make my imaginary italian grandmother kvell (not sour). Olivia salted and breaded and baked the eggplant. I baked Garlic bread. Sliced cukes. Spaghetti. We set the table with red wine and put on some Billie Holiday. We were classy-ass ladies.

After, we had a couple of our friends came to visit for fresh mint tea, hookah, and Bananagrams. Olivia had a bottle of bubbles and blew them up with smoke. They looked like giant Wizard of Oz crystal balls.

Ulpan tomorrow then hopefully a craft market and I'll hit the beach afterwards. i have pictures that i would love to post eventually. I just have to figure out how to do it on this blog.

Jafa

Gallery tour today. I forgot my camera (!). We took the #10 bus from Ben Yehuda to Jaffa. Let me just say, it feels absolutely empowering to ride on the Israeli bus system with an unlimited Tel Aviv bus pass...even though i am with 16 other friends ushering me towards the bus door. While driving down the coast of the Mediterranean at 8:30 AM, I passed surfers waxing their boards for an early swim, and vendors setting up pomegranates and cactus fruits for the market. Since I was put into a scenery-induced coma, when I walked off the bus I almost didn't notice the scent of fish and old-israeli-backgammon-player B.O.

That's the only thing about israel that truly bothers me. You'll be slowly walking down the tel aviv promenade. You will relish the scent of salty sea breeze and then

WHAM

cat feces

dog feces (no proud israeli would be caught dead with a plastic baggie in his hand, stooping to clean up after his mangy cur, so there is incidentally shit on every street corner)

or human feces

fish scales

schwarma

rotting mangos

OKAY. It's gone now. You pass a bakery cooling fresh-out-of-the-oven pita. You would buy it, but the guy selling them has no teeth and will probably ask too many questions like why you are visiting Israel. how old are you...would you like some tea on the couch over there...so you keep on walking and

PHEWWWWWWWW

it hits you again like a wall...a wall made of the flies eating away at a homeless man's inch-deep leg wounds.

An injured pigeon cooing in a cardboard box...its wings coated in poop.

Finally, our group dodges into a narrow alleyway, another alleyway and again until we finish our game of smell roulette and enter an air-condiditioned workshop. There are small squares of copper, mini saws, and files. We are making jewelry. The gallery owner whips out an impressive 22 inch (computer monitor) and plays a short "commercial" on the history of the Star of David which views like Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I drilled a little pendant. The dude who polished the finished project scratched the copper. So it goes.

We left the workshop and met an Argentinean guide who gave us a tour of Ilana Goor's home. She is most famous for a brief stint in Vogue for selling fancy belt buckles in Bloomingdales. She has a posh home. It makes me hopeful...if I can somehow gain a wee bit of press release for some belt buckles, sell them for a gazillion sheckles...i can have a pimped out vacation home overlooking the sea with a whole room of christian relics from the byzantine empire. Mrs Goor is also a athiest, feminist, morbid, has custom-made glasses that and believer in the turkish fertility goddess, and avid art collector. She seems pretty fierce.

http://www.ilanagoor.com/

We had lunch at Dr. Shakshuka...a Tripolitan restaurant and our waiter looked like Jafar. http://drshaksuka.rest-e.co.il/

they kept on bringing out food. This ground beef thing with potato under it. Spicy chicken kababs, salads, breads, beefy stews, bean soups, and shakshuka. They gave us tea and semolina cake for dessert. We ate it in front of these genius turbo-jet friends...they're a mega version of those spritzer fans your mother bought you for summer camp..

We then walked to shuck ha pishpishim (market of the fleas) and were overwhelmed by the "cheap treasures that were endless".

Came back home. Watched Inglorious Basterds with my roommates. Tried to follow the hebrew instructions for microwave popcorn. it burned. I'm staying in tonight because tomorrow is our first day of ulpan classes. I think beauty sleep will make me look more sabra.

The First Post is the Deepest (not really)

Shalom!

I am blogging for the MASA Israel Experience, and thought I might as well keep all of you in the know also.

I don't want you to get scared by the title of this blog. Just because

I am legal doesn't mean I'm binge drinking, yakking on the sticky upholstery of some skeevy israeli man's couch. In fact, you'll be surprised. It's after Shabbos, a Saturday night and I'm sitting on my roommate's sandy bed. It is sandy because we went to the beach after lunch today, which was sponsored by a local schul. We are only a ten minute walk from the Mediterranean, which is a shimmering azure and feels like a bath. Except there are no speedo-sporting, tan, post-army israeli men in my bathtub. I was so thrilled to be swimming in something clearer than the raw sewage of Long Island Sound. It was so beautiful, spiritual, invigorating, scintillating. At moments, I felt like a cherub eating cloud muffins in heaven. I love the beach.

So. I know I have a ton to catch up on. So much has happened this past week, that I am going to save your eyes a searing staring contest with the computer screen and just abbreviate the beginning of this amazing experience. In a little bit. I have to defecate now.