I Was Walking Down the Street One Day...

In a matter of a few hours while out walking I saw the following things, some funny some disgusting but it is life in Jerusalem and Israel:

1:  3-4 year old children playing with fire and sticks without close by adult supervision We watched this go on for at least 5 minutes), it was a preschool group in a park.  In general Israelis are not as uptight about safety and security as are us Americans.  OSHA does not exist here... they have bigger fish to fry.

2: On a major road I saw a large turtle walking down the street (I carried him to a green space).

3: Honking Cars; this is one of my 2 pet peeves; Israelis* are the MOST OBNOXIOUS DRIVERS in the world.  They will sit in their cars for ten minutes honking for a friend to come out rather than to get out of their car and ring the doorbell or use their cell phone... and this goes on all day and all night. They honk (like a scream) if someone isn't going fast enough , Everyone honks at taxis as they stop wherever they please to pick up or drop off fares, or just to try to pick up a potential fare, and bus drivers honk because they can!  I may never honk again.

3: Egg plant (someone has a sense of humor)

4. I stopped to feed cats a chopped up can of sardines ( Paul and Noa made fun of me, pretending I was the old woman from Mary Poppins with the tuppence)  I love cats and someday when I weigh 300 pounds and have a house full of cats, I'll have the last laugh:-)

5. Man on an accordion; as I read The Book Thief along with Noa, I have a special place in my heart for men like Hans Hubermann.

6: Dog Poop  Pet Peeve #2; Israelis* are BARBARIANS, as most people live in apartments  and there are not back yards or  parking strips, they let their dogs poop right in front of your front door!  I hate this more than the honkers.  For example the lady with two adolescent boys who lives just below us, was fighting with a neighbor across the street as she walked her large dog to poop on their sidewalk in front of their apartment, and they yelled at her to have her dog poop in front of her own home.  When I returned home later in the afternoon, there it was a huge smoking pile in front of our gate... I'll spare you that photo.  People don't bother to pick up after their dogs or themselves for that matter... future blog will be on Recycling in Israel.

* A few people have begun to pick up after their pets and there are a handful of kind drivers.  After living in Portland for 17 years, I too became a more civilized driver.  As we are more than halfway through our adventure, part of the charm of everyday life has worn off a bit. Sorry to sound like a bummer, it is just an honest look at life in Jerusalem.

 

Negev Desert, yes it was hot and dry

 

Paul's dad and step mother came to visit for a few weeks and as a last trip with them we went off to Mitzpe Ramon, south and east of Be'er Sheva,  and if it sounds exotic it was.  Be'er Sheva still has it's Bedouin markets, but only on Thursday, sadly; US Customs wouldn't allow us to bring in a camel home anyway.  On our way down to Mitzpe Ramon we stopped at the Kibbutz home of David Ben Gurion (place he retired after the 1948 War of Israel's Independence.  Five miles further down the road is the site he selected for his tomb as well as his wife Paula, do they ever have a great view!   We made it to Mitzpe Ramon and had quickly started for the hiking path to the bottom of the crater.  This is not like hiking to Multnomah Falls or in the Rose garden, no railings or paved step, just boulders and fracturing limestone.

  The trail markings were only paint on rocks and hope you don't miss one.  There were several trails of  varying difficulty and location (down or the crater rim).  We went for the hard core green trail which went straight down and there were more than a few spots where I sat on my tuchas to get down.  The sights were more than a little like being on the moon, and a bit like the computer game MYST.  All of the rock and dirt was in shades of tan and gold. It was BARREN.  Alas; I saw a plant growing out of a rock!   At one point Noa said mom there is an Ibex... I didn't know what was talking about, and then... there were a dozen or more of these lovely creatures (well until you got close and saw how chewed up their fur was).  They were not fazed by us or any other humans for that matter.



The ride home provided home some entertainment:  The (L)

lamed is the Hebrew letter ( L) and in this case stands for Learner Driver.  We have seen these all over Israel on small cars where you see teens and others learning how to drive.  This one was a surprise as it was a soldier learning how to drive a Hummer. Also in Israel it is not unusual for a smaller vehicle to take on a larger one, see photo.  You should see the buses racing cars on two wheels.

Trip North to Golan Heights, Akko, Tzvat, etc.

Traveling can take the "blogging" right out of you.  Little or no wi-fi and two weeks later, finally an update to our adventure, and mostly in photos, (you can click to enlarge). Paul's dad and step-mother arrived and we traveled with them to Tzvat (Safed) the birthplace of mystical Judaism (where Madonna hangs out when she works on her spirituality) as well as a few days with other Fulbrighters (mostly college professors and some grad students... lots of brainpower on the bus).We made many of stops in out of the way places and at one point we were on the Syrian and Lebanese borders.

It was an interesting feeling to see signs warning us, "Caution Land Mines" and "Check Points" along the way. If you are interested in History or descriptions of places please see Noa's Blog.  Our hotel, Hotel Ron was expensive and dirty The breakfast was inedible.  When an omelet was delivered to our table it nearly slid off the plate as it was in so much hydrogenated grease (you could see the molecules) and instant coffee was served next to a hot water heater with a tap.  The most interesting thing to me was the old Tzvat cemetery.  Graves dating back more than 1000 years. In an earlier blog I mentioned being intrigued by grave-sites being painted blue, and learned they were Rabbis' graves, on the Mount of Olives there were a handful.  In this cemetery there were what looked like a hundred or more.  Some were in caves.  In a town nearby we saw a rabbi's grave in a cave where he lived for 13 years as he was hiding from the Syrians.  The story was that he lived naked (to preserve his only clothing) and covered himself with sand unless he was praying, and then he put on his black suit and hat so he could show respect to god. For the life of me I can't figure out where Madonna would sleep in this town, let alone eat.  On the bright side there was a cute street of artists shops. In Akko (Acre) the longest continually inhabited city by Jews, we were warned by our tour guide that the is some occasional mischief by young Arab men/boys towards westerners, and we were not disappointed.  On our way to the old walled city our Fulbright group of about 40 people was the target of two Arab teens on a motorcycle... they tried twice to run into us:-(  One of the men in our group socked one of them in the back and let them have it... other than that we enjoyed our visit.  Akko dates back several thousand years and has a very interesting history. Inside the old city is a Crusader Castle who hashad  many landlords since it was built.  Most interesting to me was that it was used as a prison during the British Mandate,  a huge prison break by the Jewish underground took place and the prisoners, many of my heroes of the Irgun and Jewish underground were hung (see gallows). Sorry about the layout, my net-book is a windows machine... need I say more?

Shopping; The Good, the Bad, and the Double Ugly

Today's weather was so cold and rainy (sorry Portland friends...I know you've been living with this for a while... but it's hard to be a tourist in this) the only reason I could find to go out was to go shopping for dinner as we were entertaining. I made two trips out, for food, stories to follow.

I need to unload about the entire Israeli shopping experience.  Good news is, other than food, jewelry  and art (all  are VERY expensive, and I can live without the art). Bad News is I couldn't afford it anyway.  We were looking for warm clothes, I could buy Nike here for three times US retail, but as I get all our stuff at the employee store, it would only cost 6 times as much.  Israel has a store called FOX that everyone wears... think Abercrombie and  Fitch  (double the price and half the quality)  Dressy clothes... forget it.  There is a hot designer named Ronen Chen, I saw a winter clearance sale sign, and saw a lovely sweater with couture detail out of yummy warm velour... and it was on sale for only $200.  When we were in Tel Aviv, we heard about all the Israeli designers... not at any price.  Most everything looks like a shma'∙teh. I suppose it is the style:-(  I am a bit spoiled as I can get a Giorgio Armani suit on Ebay for $50 (yes it was worn once on Law and Order, but who cares... it has seams)! The Double Ugly is, the experience.  You go into a place and expect help. Not in grocery stores.  Other shoppers are pushy and aggressive, like the drivers, but that is another entire blog.   When you go to the "Shuk" like the Mahane Yehuda market as we have all blogged about, you expect a bit of pushing and shoving, and you get plenty of it. Last week we were attempting to buy halvah for Ellen's return trip to SD, and we waited and waited while others just pushed in front and after trying to get the sellers attention we went elsewhere.  I think I am aggressive enough and if I couldn't get the goods you know what this place is like.  Today at Mega (think Safeway), Noa and I had 14 items in our cart.  We looked at all the lines, and as usual I picked the wrong one, after waiting in line for over 15 minutes, we decided to go to the 10 items or less aisle.  We each had seven.  A nice man had a loaf of bread so I signaled him to go ahead of me.  Next thing I knew a "Russian Beauty" as Noa and I call them, woman with loads of make-up, dressed like they were wishing they were 30 years younger and more than a few kilos lighter, tried pushing ahead, I told her "no", we are in line, then her other gal pals started the pushing.   As I was now into 25 minutes of waiting in line my patience was growing thin. I went to get a manager and the nice man with the bread held the Russians away from Noa. Like a mama bear protecting her young cub.more than a few choice words were spoken, some even made me blush when repeating the story to Paul, The "Russian Beauties" were surprised that we held our own, and I bet don't want to see me again.  Later in the day I went in search for fresh bread and dessert for our company (plus I needed 5 more miles to walk).   It started raining and hailing.  I was dressed for the weather, but this was ridiculous. I found what I wanted at a neighborhood bakery, I just don't know what neighborhood I was in... the sun being my usual guide was absent.  After going several miles out of my way, my waterproof hiking boots were soaked as was my gore-tex jacket. I was officially crabby and crazed to get home and I was darned if I was going to spend $30 in a taxi to get home.  After meeting a nice man from the foreign ministry he set me in the right direction and made my way home... like a wet dog.  The apple strudel was put back together and re-baked and all loved it!

Kibbutz Life, Caving with Unruly Brats , Psycho Drivers

We spent the weekend at Kibbutz Hatzor, the home of Paul's mentor (Jay and his lovely family) from the Israeli Ministry of Education.  I'd heard about kibbutzim since I was a young child and learned of Israel and it's being seen by many as "The Land of Milk of Land and Honey"  After 5 weeks of city living (honking horns, loud voices and vehicle exhaust),  it was a delight to come to what seemed like "Eden".  We saw and smelled wildflowers, heard birds singing, and yes, the smells of farm life, horses, and cows.  Hatzor  as most Kibbutzim began as utopian communities, a combination of socialism and Zionism. Over the last decades, most Kibbutzim have been privatized and no longer practice communal living. Less than five percent of Israelis now live on kibbutzim.  Jay invited us this weekend as it was a holiday Tu'bishvat,  the day that marks the beginning of a "New Year for Trees." This is the season in which the earliest-blooming trees in the Land of Israel emerge from their winter sleep and begin a new fruit-bearing cycle. We watched the young planting trees in this Eden that was once not quite so lush before the Kibbutz was founded.

Jay and his wife Tzippi were extremely gracious and hospitable.  We ate very well and finally had our hottest showers to date! Noa became friend with their lovely daughter Hila (pronounced Heela).  She was darling and it was great to see Noa and her communicating as Hila is studying English and as Noa can only bless things, not speak the language other than basic greeting and counting to 10:-)

Other Kibbutz photos are of bomb shelter turned into a nightclub, famous Israeli Sculptor Ze'ev Karisher, Original Kibbutz building and new, Wild flowers, me with freshly picked maracas. We attempted to see Ashdod on the Mediterranean coast, not an easy thing to do in a sand storm. This morning we drove to the Sorek Cave, the largest and most beautiful in Israel.  My tour book said there would be tours every 15 minutes and in English!  The drive up to the cave was gorgeous (weather was crystal clear).

As we parked we saw BUSES, argh. We heard SHRIEKING boys, and lots of them.  We waited for them to buy junk food, ice cream (yes it was before 10am) as the same lady sold entry tickets. These were Orthodox boys (all male schools), and all boys, completely out of control.  I asked about tickets for the English tour, the crabby woman said "NO ENGLISH TOUR", I asked when the next tour was "TWENTY_FIVE MINUTES", I said; tour book says English tours every 15 minutes, She said "ONLY HEBREW, 25 MINUTES and  75 SHEKELS". I asked if we could go on our own (not with the obnoxious boys who looked like 4th or 5th graders).  Lady said "YOU GO WITH THEM, NO ENGLISH 25 MINUTES"  I told Paul I could not do it.  We decided to to walk the lovely path towards the cave (Secretly I knew I was going to see that cave, and not with obnoxious boys).  We saw an earlier group who was just about to enter the cave... OK, it was a mixed group of secular 3rd graders, but we did NOT PAY... we snuck in:-). First you have to watch a 15 minute film... all in Hebrew, after three minutes we heard a girl barfing... we were getting what we paid for. These kids were also boisterous, taking photos of the film with cell phones and texting, and shining flashlights at each other. We hung behind (you have to be with a group as the cave is very rare/ delicate, etc).  It was amazing and worth every Shekel!

The trip home was almost uneventful... driving in Israel could make you religious.  We were on a very busy NARROW road with a lot of car and truck traffic.  EVERYONE in Israel is an impatient driver, a man in a small blue car took this to a new level. He would pull out into oncoming traffic and when another vehicle would come almost nose to nose with him, he'd pull over to the LEFT and into a parking space or onto the sidewalk.  I do mean that he was on the other side of the street from where he should be driving.  When all the opposing traffic subsided, he would jam back into our lane of traffic.  He performed this stunt more than a dozen times over the course of a few kilometers.  All in all he got TWO cars ahead... OY VEY.

DANGER, THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU EAT TOO MUCH HALVAH!

Ellen's Guest Blog: Two Cities and Four Millennia

It was a dark and stormy night….but that came later.

This is Paul’s sister, Ellen, honored to be Pam’s first guest blogger. We began the day with a walk to the Old City to visit the Temple Mount. Paul and Noa both have blogged about their first visit to this place, with its four thousand-year history, one of the most contested 35.5 acres on the planet. I had pretty high expectations as I walked by the plastic riot shields strategically placed on the walkway past security. I was struck by the separation feeling of walking by (and above) Jews praying at the Western Wall onto Temple Mount, controlled by an Islamic Waqf. What is holiness? There’s nothing visually remarkable about the Temple Mount. The al-Aqsa Mosque isn’t pretty, it isn’t even majestic. Non-Muslims are barred entry to it and the Dome of the Rock – selective holiness? I listened to a tour guide say the Dome of the Rock is, in fact, in direct contravention of Mohammed’s dictum that money should not be wasted on temples. Apparently the $8.2 million spent by King Hussein in 1998 to purchase the 80 kg of gold for the latest dome refurbishment was critical. 

Apparently holiness doesn’t prohibit either trash burning on or general trashing of Temple Mount. Apparently holiness doesn’t extend to taking care of this tree section, which has been carbon dated to the time of the First Temple, built by King Solomon about three thousand years ago. Maybe holiness is what you make of it.

Pam and I walked to the Central Bus Station in spite of the forecast for rain and thunderstorms in Tel Aviv (which did not materialize, rather we enjoyed six sunny, warm hours!). Paul and Noa went home for a productive day of study and work in the warm, sunny Jerusalem apartment. Except for driving past burned out remains of military transport left on the side of a major highway, the east to west bus trip was an uneventful hour.

Tel Aviv shows every bit of the four thousand year difference from where we began the day. As secular as Jerusalem is religious, as modern as Jerusalem is old, as wide open as Jerusalem is narrow. Pam, an ace after living here for five days, took me on a whirlwind tour. With no map, we headed directly from the bus station onto Levinski St. courtesy of Ruth, a lovely young woman who guided us to her favorite spice shop. As we were the only people, we were showered with the proprietor’s enthusiastic pride in his custom-made spice blends and procured a delightful selection. My quinoa will be well-spiced when I return home, and I’ll need to keep yogurt at the ready by any dish in which I include the chili powder – it’s about a 9/10.

Continuing on our mapless way, we roamed through Neveh Tzedek (trendy) and the Carmel Market (Whole Foods just DREAMS about produce this good and fresh) to visit Serge and Michael, the hosts of the bed & breakfast with whom Paul, Pam and Noa stayed last month. How Serge’s face positively lit up when he opened the gate is testament to Pam’s ability to connect with people. In spite of the lovely invitation to stay, we could not tarry and moved on.

Another key difference from Jerusalem is that Tel Aviv is on the ocean. So it has a beach. A beautiful beach. But unlike the beaches of Southern California, even on a winter’s day, there were no crowds. There were hardly any people. True, the wind was blowing above 30 knots, which made walking a bit….refreshing.  And, like all winds, it was directly against us. But the windsurfers and kiteboarders were in heaven.

We finally clawed our way into Old Yafo and stopped for a delicious pre-lunch gelato. Life is short, eat dessert first. We asked the store clerk for directions to Puaa, our lunch restaurant destination. “Go down this street past the clock tower, at not the first street but the second, turn left and ask the people there, they’ll direct you.” So we did. At the furniture shop, we then asked a woman how to find Puaa. “Go straight, at not the first street but the second, turn right and ask the people there.” So we did. We went through this same scene two more times and deep in the heart of Old Yaffo we found Puaa! We then enjoyed possibly the best two dishes we’ve had – lentils & rice and pumpkin dumplings in curry sauce.

More wanderings took us through trendier upscale neighborhoods and a West Village-like (NYC) shopping street before succumbing to weariness reflective of the 30,000 steps (~15 miles) we’d trod and taking buses all the way home (intra-Tel Aviv, TA  Jerusalem, and intra-Jerusalem). On the bus back to Jerusalem, a nice 41-year old Israeli named David used the 20-something boy next to him to talk to us and invite me to go with him for a drink tomorrow night. Given that he didn’t particularly speak English, and I certainly don’t speak Hebrew, I had a difficult time imagining even what the cultural benefits could be. Pam, supportive as ever, made sure to get his phone number. Oy.

There are, of course, similarities between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, but Tel Aviv produces extremes - the chazzerei in Old Yaffo is junkier, the produce in Carmel Market is oversize and beautiful (that may be a Tel Aviv thing – even the bagels are huge!), and the rebuilding/renovation appears be conducted at a furious pace. Both cities have intense energy. But Jerusalem looks to the past. Tel Aviv looks to the future. God doesn’t choose. But I think s/he’d prefer to live in Tel Aviv.