Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Late Night Visitor
So at 4:30 AM this morning, the front door buzzed and they delivered my package. No phone call, no nothing. Thank heavens for jet lag.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
11 pm, charles de gaulle airport
Good news, CDG has an extensive wireless internet system. Bad news: it's not free. What the hell? Typed this entry in notepad to post later. Fucking French.
Airport is kind of space-agey in that French way; they have a display of giant plant pots that glow and change color; a cylindrical space-station design, with floors connected by spiral staircases or, alternatively, tilted moving sidewalks encased in a tube. They keep these sidewalks moving all night, and they make a lot of noise. I'm not the only one spending the night here--a bunch of people camped out in corners. I'm pretty sure not all of them are travellers; there's one old woman who appears to be homeless. You don't have to go through security to get in here. Bad design # 1: even though this is only a transfer point, I still had to go through passport control and customs. To get onto my connection tomorrow, I'll have to go through passport control again. That's retarded.
------------------------
Later addition:
I ended up dozing from time to time. My Israel experience has apparently given me the ability to doze upright, bent in weird positions, for example over the top of a built in armrest on a set of airport seats.
Turns out that Newark has the same retarded design, and anyone changing planes in Newark from abroad has to go through customs, get their luggage, and then check in again to catch their next airplane.
El Al didn't have any notice of my request for a kosher meal; Continental did. How is that for irony?
Also turns out that the El Al representative in Tel Aviv was wrong that my luggage would get transferred by itself. It got to spend another day in Paris, and hopefully will be joining me tomorrow.
Airport is kind of space-agey in that French way; they have a display of giant plant pots that glow and change color; a cylindrical space-station design, with floors connected by spiral staircases or, alternatively, tilted moving sidewalks encased in a tube. They keep these sidewalks moving all night, and they make a lot of noise. I'm not the only one spending the night here--a bunch of people camped out in corners. I'm pretty sure not all of them are travellers; there's one old woman who appears to be homeless. You don't have to go through security to get in here. Bad design # 1: even though this is only a transfer point, I still had to go through passport control and customs. To get onto my connection tomorrow, I'll have to go through passport control again. That's retarded.
------------------------
Later addition:
I ended up dozing from time to time. My Israel experience has apparently given me the ability to doze upright, bent in weird positions, for example over the top of a built in armrest on a set of airport seats.
Turns out that Newark has the same retarded design, and anyone changing planes in Newark from abroad has to go through customs, get their luggage, and then check in again to catch their next airplane.
El Al didn't have any notice of my request for a kosher meal; Continental did. How is that for irony?
Also turns out that the El Al representative in Tel Aviv was wrong that my luggage would get transferred by itself. It got to spend another day in Paris, and hopefully will be joining me tomorrow.
Eilat yuckiness
The boardwalk shtick here seems to be a scam where you bet the guy whether you can stand up a beer bottle using a metal ring hanging from the end of a cord tied to a short stick. The bottle rests on its side on a slanted board, and using the ring at the end of the little fishing rod you have to get the bottle upright on the board. The carny does it over and over to make you think it's easy, and the suckers don't realize that he's not in business because it is easy. I saw two guys working this scam on the boardwalk. In Tel Aviv, the shtick was "which cup is the ball under" as the guy whisks a trio of inverted plastic cups across a tabletop at amazing speed, swapping hands and shooting the ball from cup to cup.
I reiterate my earlier statement--Eilat really is like Wildwood NJ, but all the signs are in Hebrew and Russian, and they have tropical fish off the jetties.
I reiterate my earlier statement--Eilat really is like Wildwood NJ, but all the signs are in Hebrew and Russian, and they have tropical fish off the jetties.
Eilat and petra
I'm in Eilat! In the Caesar Premier, just steps from a boardwalk as tacky as any in New Jersey, only with fewer tattoos and lots more Russians. Just got back from my two day trip to Petra and Wadi Rum, and it was full of surprises.
My trip down to Eilat was perfectly arranged to play off my already tight travel nerves: the night before my trip, i got a phone call from the airlines that the flight was changed to depart from Sde Dov airport instead of Ben Gurion. I had already arranged for a minibus direct from the yeshiva, so now I had to figure out how to make my way to Sde Dov, a tiny airport in the outskirts of Tel Aviv. Sde Dov has no public transportation, so in the end I had to take a taxi to the central bus station in Jerusalem (delayed 10 minutes at a light as they stopped traffic to allow UN envoy George Mitchell's entourage to pass by), then a minibus to the train station in Jerusalem (10 minute walk from the drop-off point to the station), then 3 train stops to Tel Aviv University, then a taxi to the airport where a security guard then grilled me for 10 minutes on Jewish holidays, where I went to Hebrew school (you don't remember the name of your hebrew school? Why not?), and my parents' names (how would she know that?).
Flight to Eilat went well, arrived at the hotel around 10:15. Got picked up by the travel company at 6:45 the next morning and rode hillbilly style in the back of a pickup to the border crossing with 3 people that I recognized from the flight down. We had to cross a scary DMZ-style zone on foot to Jordan, where we had to fork over $38 in cash to pay for a transit visa.
In preparation for my trip, I'd worn a disguise--a muslim-green t-shirt and baseball cap. I'd also bought a muslim-style skullcap in the Old City to use as a spare kippah, and packed it into my backpack. It took the border guard about 0.5 seconds to see through me and he yanked the "muslim skullcap" out of my bag in the first shot, gave me a look, and put it back, then trotted off to post the "Jew" alarm on the appropriate networks.
Trip to Petra from the border took about 2 hours by fast SUV that used all four lanes of a two lane highway (both lanes, plus both shoulders at 60 miles per hour). We went immediately to the Petra park. The first 40 minutes is a winding walk down a gulley in the mountains through drippy red rock that reminded me of Bryce Canyon state park. Red, yellow, and black sandstone walls carved by water into wild shapes and hollows, rising up 100 feed above the canyon floor. The site dates back to about 300 BCE, and includes a complex irrigation system and plentiful carvings along the walls of the canyon, but nearly no writing. Suddenly you turn a corner and reach the entrance to the main Petra site, located in a canyon, and the first site you see is the money shot--a straight on view of "The Treasury," which is the building featured in the third Indiana Jones movie. It's enormous, and breathtaking. The canyon is lined with unbelievably carved facades that are thought to have been burial chambers and locations for religious ceremonies. These caves are carved square inside, and empty, mostly consisting of one or two enormous rooms carved by hand out of the rock. The workmanship is outstanding.
The dwelling quarters of the people were thought to have been freestanding stone buildings that were destroyed in a series of 2 or 3 earthquakes. Remains of these buildings are visible further down the valley. We hiked from about 10 AM to about 4 PM down the valley and back. You can see the pictures here.
The entrance fee included a crap buffet lunch in a restaurant halfway down the valley. Something I discovered about Jordan: meals all seem to be included in package deals, but drinks are not. Ask for a glass of water, and prepare to take out your wallet, as I found out later at our hotel, where a cup of tea and a bottle of water at dinner cost me $5 in cash (they use the 7-11 method of rounding currency exchange, where all prices are rounded up to the next $2 mark in US dollars).
All the men working the tourist stuff in Petra are done up like Captain Jack Sparrow, for some reason. Black goatees, dark skin, kohl around the eyes, pirate rags over the hair. Excellent English, too.
Day 2 was down to Wadi Rum, sort of a Nevada/Arizona red rock experience. I expected it to be just treading water, but it turned out to be on par with Petra in my book. Wadi Rum is a region with crazy mountains poking abruptly out of a flat desert floor. The mountains, which loom up to 1,500 meters high, are made of sandstone that look craggy from a distance, but when you see them close up they have the same melted-candle appearance as the mountains at Petra. Our guide drove us around the sandy desert floor in the jeep, driving up to narrow-seeming cracks in the mountain that turned out to be 10' wide fissures lined with Nabotean carvings and post-Islam graffiti from passing caravans. We climbed and slid down a tall red sand dune, climbed up a scary stone archway, and ate lunch in a giant fissure in the mountain. Our guide made a small brush fire and cooked chicken and vegetable skewers and super-sweet ginger tea. he didn't ask me what I wanted to eat when he bought supplies in the morning, so I ended up eating a lunch of pita, onions, and tomatoes.
After 5 hours of driving around, we came back to Aquaba and crossed back to Israel, where another border guard grilled me on my reasons for coming to Israel, and gave me another short Jew quiz. They always ask if I have family in Israel--why do they ask that? Do they think that they'll know my family? Do they want an invitation to dinner?
My trip down to Eilat was perfectly arranged to play off my already tight travel nerves: the night before my trip, i got a phone call from the airlines that the flight was changed to depart from Sde Dov airport instead of Ben Gurion. I had already arranged for a minibus direct from the yeshiva, so now I had to figure out how to make my way to Sde Dov, a tiny airport in the outskirts of Tel Aviv. Sde Dov has no public transportation, so in the end I had to take a taxi to the central bus station in Jerusalem (delayed 10 minutes at a light as they stopped traffic to allow UN envoy George Mitchell's entourage to pass by), then a minibus to the train station in Jerusalem (10 minute walk from the drop-off point to the station), then 3 train stops to Tel Aviv University, then a taxi to the airport where a security guard then grilled me for 10 minutes on Jewish holidays, where I went to Hebrew school (you don't remember the name of your hebrew school? Why not?), and my parents' names (how would she know that?).
Flight to Eilat went well, arrived at the hotel around 10:15. Got picked up by the travel company at 6:45 the next morning and rode hillbilly style in the back of a pickup to the border crossing with 3 people that I recognized from the flight down. We had to cross a scary DMZ-style zone on foot to Jordan, where we had to fork over $38 in cash to pay for a transit visa.
In preparation for my trip, I'd worn a disguise--a muslim-green t-shirt and baseball cap. I'd also bought a muslim-style skullcap in the Old City to use as a spare kippah, and packed it into my backpack. It took the border guard about 0.5 seconds to see through me and he yanked the "muslim skullcap" out of my bag in the first shot, gave me a look, and put it back, then trotted off to post the "Jew" alarm on the appropriate networks.
Trip to Petra from the border took about 2 hours by fast SUV that used all four lanes of a two lane highway (both lanes, plus both shoulders at 60 miles per hour). We went immediately to the Petra park. The first 40 minutes is a winding walk down a gulley in the mountains through drippy red rock that reminded me of Bryce Canyon state park. Red, yellow, and black sandstone walls carved by water into wild shapes and hollows, rising up 100 feed above the canyon floor. The site dates back to about 300 BCE, and includes a complex irrigation system and plentiful carvings along the walls of the canyon, but nearly no writing. Suddenly you turn a corner and reach the entrance to the main Petra site, located in a canyon, and the first site you see is the money shot--a straight on view of "The Treasury," which is the building featured in the third Indiana Jones movie. It's enormous, and breathtaking. The canyon is lined with unbelievably carved facades that are thought to have been burial chambers and locations for religious ceremonies. These caves are carved square inside, and empty, mostly consisting of one or two enormous rooms carved by hand out of the rock. The workmanship is outstanding.
The dwelling quarters of the people were thought to have been freestanding stone buildings that were destroyed in a series of 2 or 3 earthquakes. Remains of these buildings are visible further down the valley. We hiked from about 10 AM to about 4 PM down the valley and back. You can see the pictures here.
The entrance fee included a crap buffet lunch in a restaurant halfway down the valley. Something I discovered about Jordan: meals all seem to be included in package deals, but drinks are not. Ask for a glass of water, and prepare to take out your wallet, as I found out later at our hotel, where a cup of tea and a bottle of water at dinner cost me $5 in cash (they use the 7-11 method of rounding currency exchange, where all prices are rounded up to the next $2 mark in US dollars).
All the men working the tourist stuff in Petra are done up like Captain Jack Sparrow, for some reason. Black goatees, dark skin, kohl around the eyes, pirate rags over the hair. Excellent English, too.
Day 2 was down to Wadi Rum, sort of a Nevada/Arizona red rock experience. I expected it to be just treading water, but it turned out to be on par with Petra in my book. Wadi Rum is a region with crazy mountains poking abruptly out of a flat desert floor. The mountains, which loom up to 1,500 meters high, are made of sandstone that look craggy from a distance, but when you see them close up they have the same melted-candle appearance as the mountains at Petra. Our guide drove us around the sandy desert floor in the jeep, driving up to narrow-seeming cracks in the mountain that turned out to be 10' wide fissures lined with Nabotean carvings and post-Islam graffiti from passing caravans. We climbed and slid down a tall red sand dune, climbed up a scary stone archway, and ate lunch in a giant fissure in the mountain. Our guide made a small brush fire and cooked chicken and vegetable skewers and super-sweet ginger tea. he didn't ask me what I wanted to eat when he bought supplies in the morning, so I ended up eating a lunch of pita, onions, and tomatoes.
After 5 hours of driving around, we came back to Aquaba and crossed back to Israel, where another border guard grilled me on my reasons for coming to Israel, and gave me another short Jew quiz. They always ask if I have family in Israel--why do they ask that? Do they think that they'll know my family? Do they want an invitation to dinner?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Back online again, briefly
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Some things better left unsaid
Tighty-whities are a bad choice for dormitory living; stick with boxers, folks. Briefs look disturbingly like diapers or pull-ups.
Two days left in Jerusalem.
Two days left in Jerusalem.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Things i'm looking forward to
Hot water in a sink
Paper towels more than 0.0001 millimeter thick by the sinks
Abuse from New York shopkeepers, instead of Israeli shopkeepers
Hot breakfast
Food when I want, what I want, and how much I want.
My own bedroom
My own crapper
My own shower
Crapping in my own bedroom, crapper, or shower
Driving a car
Getting up at 6:20 instead of 6:00.
Things I'll Miss
Not feeling weird wearing a kippah
A hand washing station and a bencher in most restaurants
Being able to eat in a kosher restaurant nearly anywhere
Mikveh within walking distance
Paper towels more than 0.0001 millimeter thick by the sinks
Abuse from New York shopkeepers, instead of Israeli shopkeepers
Hot breakfast
Food when I want, what I want, and how much I want.
My own bedroom
My own crapper
My own shower
Crapping in my own bedroom, crapper, or shower
Driving a car
Getting up at 6:20 instead of 6:00.
Things I'll Miss
Not feeling weird wearing a kippah
A hand washing station and a bencher in most restaurants
Being able to eat in a kosher restaurant nearly anywhere
Mikveh within walking distance
Monday, March 1, 2010
Purim
Jerusalem really breaks loose on Purim. Maybe it's repressed desires or something, but everyone here, especially the yeshiva guys in the religious neighborhoods, goes absolutely nuts. It's like spring break, minus the nudity: walking through Harnof, a relatively religious neighborhood, there are rented cars packed with teenaged yeshiva students dressed in matching doo-wop outfits or in t-shirts, playing loud reggae or rock and roll, with one or two of them sitting on the windowsill as they careen through the street. Students weave down the road in between cars, clutching drained vodka bottles. The streets are packed with traffic; tons of minivans with speakers set up on the roof blaring Israeli music, some secular, some religious. The minivans are usually party buses packed with yeshiva students, and have the doors rolled open, and drunken students hanging out shouting. The noise level is intense.
People set off serious firecrackers in the street, right in the middle of crowds. You'd think that in this country, people would be a little more circumspect about setting off loud explosions in crowded places, but nobody seems to blink an eye.
On Purim you're not supposed to turn down anyone who asks for money, and the schnorring scene is incredible. I got held up by a group of three six-year-olds, one of whom asked me for money three times in succession (a future Jewish fundraiser). A burly 17 year old kid with a fedora shoved a cup half full of coins into my face and growled "yeshiva" until I contributed. My favorite schtick, though, is a variation on the Italian violinist scheme. We were in our host's apartment, two long tables set for a meal, and there was a gentle knock at the door. I go and open the door and a whole conga line of yeshiva students in marching band outfits dance in, singing loudly, and join hands and start circling the apartment, singing and dancing, until hour host waves a 20 shekel bill at them to get them to leave. This happens two or three times more--if the door is open, a group of yeshiva students burst in and start singing, sit down at the table and start pouring themselves wine, and won't leave until the host bribes them out.
Another weirdness is that you see groups of 7-10 year old kids running around dressed in costume with lit cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. I confirmed this with my host "Purim and weddings" he says. The kids get approval to do anything they want, and you see these little kids that haven't even reached bar mitzvah running around smoking and drinking.
On the good side, there is very little lewdness; the costumes and general dress is all pretty tame; at a rave party in the park, I saw one couple making out on the ground, and one girl with a short skirt dancing around by herself.
------------------
Although you couldn't get a group of Israelis to stand in line at gunpoint, switch on a small red outline of a man on any street corner and that same group will stand there on a deserted street corner in the middle of the night for hours without daring to cross. I don't know why.
People set off serious firecrackers in the street, right in the middle of crowds. You'd think that in this country, people would be a little more circumspect about setting off loud explosions in crowded places, but nobody seems to blink an eye.
On Purim you're not supposed to turn down anyone who asks for money, and the schnorring scene is incredible. I got held up by a group of three six-year-olds, one of whom asked me for money three times in succession (a future Jewish fundraiser). A burly 17 year old kid with a fedora shoved a cup half full of coins into my face and growled "yeshiva" until I contributed. My favorite schtick, though, is a variation on the Italian violinist scheme. We were in our host's apartment, two long tables set for a meal, and there was a gentle knock at the door. I go and open the door and a whole conga line of yeshiva students in marching band outfits dance in, singing loudly, and join hands and start circling the apartment, singing and dancing, until hour host waves a 20 shekel bill at them to get them to leave. This happens two or three times more--if the door is open, a group of yeshiva students burst in and start singing, sit down at the table and start pouring themselves wine, and won't leave until the host bribes them out.
Another weirdness is that you see groups of 7-10 year old kids running around dressed in costume with lit cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. I confirmed this with my host "Purim and weddings" he says. The kids get approval to do anything they want, and you see these little kids that haven't even reached bar mitzvah running around smoking and drinking.
On the good side, there is very little lewdness; the costumes and general dress is all pretty tame; at a rave party in the park, I saw one couple making out on the ground, and one girl with a short skirt dancing around by herself.
------------------
Although you couldn't get a group of Israelis to stand in line at gunpoint, switch on a small red outline of a man on any street corner and that same group will stand there on a deserted street corner in the middle of the night for hours without daring to cross. I don't know why.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
purim!
Today is Purim in most of the world outside of Jerusalem. In Jerusalem (and a handful of other ancient walled cities) purim is celebrated tomorrow. In order to enable us to have 2 days of drunkenness, the yeshiva has arranged for students to visit teachers who live outside Jerusalem. I went with about 10 students to a rabbi in Efrat, a city in the west bank. The bus was armored, with solid metal walls and double thick windows, so the ride was very bouncy, aas the weight of the bus strained the suspension, and we bottomed out after all the speed bumps in the settlement.
The rabbi brought us to his 3 neighbors to deliver purim food gifts, and we danced in each apartment. I'm sure the neighbors heartily enjoyed 12 sweaty men smelling up the place for half an hour, but it was nice, and fun.
Weather on Friday, Saturday, and today has been unbelievably windy and rainy. Thank God for artificial fibers; I had to take off shoes and socks in the tiolet after I arrived and wring them out, but my good Alaska hiking socks kept my feet warm despite being wet.
Going to hear megilla and a purim shpiel tonight at the yeshiva. Tomorrow morning I hope to go to a fun shul to hear megilla again.
Eilat flight and hotel reservation seem to have gone through. Crossing my fingers. Only 1 week plus 1 day of school left.
The rabbi brought us to his 3 neighbors to deliver purim food gifts, and we danced in each apartment. I'm sure the neighbors heartily enjoyed 12 sweaty men smelling up the place for half an hour, but it was nice, and fun.
Weather on Friday, Saturday, and today has been unbelievably windy and rainy. Thank God for artificial fibers; I had to take off shoes and socks in the tiolet after I arrived and wring them out, but my good Alaska hiking socks kept my feet warm despite being wet.
Going to hear megilla and a purim shpiel tonight at the yeshiva. Tomorrow morning I hope to go to a fun shul to hear megilla again.
Eilat flight and hotel reservation seem to have gone through. Crossing my fingers. Only 1 week plus 1 day of school left.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Mind if i dance... wif yo' date?
Last night my closeted roommate asked me for a date and I freaked out for a minute before realizing that he wanted one of the dates that I keep in a package with my stuff. I'm sure he didn't mean any double entendres...
Booked a hotel in Eilat (I hope) through expedia. Now to book a flight.
Booked a hotel in Eilat (I hope) through expedia. Now to book a flight.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Petra-fied
Sent in an application and deposit for a trip to Petra. Hope it isn't a scam. Now I have to buy an airplane ticket and reserve a hotel room in Eilat, a holiday city in southern Israel on the Red Sea. The plan is to fly down late Monday night after class with all my stuff, spend the night in a cheap hotel, then Tuesday morning they pick me up and take me for a 2 day trip across the border in Jordan where they roll me for everything and leave me for dead. I'm back in Eilat Wednesday night-ish, hit the beach Thursday, and Friday head north to Haifa. I'm going to take the bus to Haifa, through the Negev desert. I could fly instead--it's a long trip (6+ hours total)--but it's supposed to be a really interesting drive. I'll stay from Friday through Monday with a friend in Haifa, and on Monday head back down to Ben Gurion and home.
Transcript
Transcript of last night's chatter from my closeted roommate:
[Me in bed under covers, lights out. Roommate browsing on computer.]
ROOMMATE: Is there a comprehensive guide to all the bugs in the world?
There doesn't seem to be. I wonder if there would be interest in something like that. Do you think there would be interest in a comprehensive guide to insects?
ME (sleepily): Why?
ROOMMATE: So that people could identify the bugs in their food. That way there wouldn't be all that craziness over kashrut with strawberries. People would be able to examine their fruit much more easily. Do you think that would be useful?
ME: A bug is a bug
ROOMMATE: No--some are kosher. Let's see what else is available
[several more minutes of chatter from ROOMMATE omitted. ROOMMATE goes to bed finally and gets into bed. Then starts fiddling with the window next to his bed. Then starts slamming the windows closed]
ROOMMATE: Do you have a hammer?
ME: No
ROOMMATE: Do you have something I could use as a hammer?
ME: No
ROOMMATE: Do you know anyone in the dorm with a hammer?
[I do not answer. Roommate gets up and goes outside]
ROOMMATE: Does anyone here have a hammer? [No answer] Oh well--I bet I could use my Shabbat shoe. [Several loud bangs then start coming from the window. Predictably, after the third or fourth, there's an "Uh oh". He puts the shoe down and gets back into bed. Etc]
previous night, the script was this:
[Everyone in the room in bed, asleep or near sleeping. Lights out. Crazy ROOMMATE is fluttering about. Goes out and slams the door shut behind him. Comes back, australian roommate shouts at him:
AUSTRALIAN ROOMMATE: Can you please stop slamming the fucking door?
ROOMMATE: [Pause] I don't think that was me.
ROOMMATE: [Ev
[Me in bed under covers, lights out. Roommate browsing on computer.]
ROOMMATE: Is there a comprehensive guide to all the bugs in the world?
There doesn't seem to be. I wonder if there would be interest in something like that. Do you think there would be interest in a comprehensive guide to insects?
ME (sleepily): Why?
ROOMMATE: So that people could identify the bugs in their food. That way there wouldn't be all that craziness over kashrut with strawberries. People would be able to examine their fruit much more easily. Do you think that would be useful?
ME: A bug is a bug
ROOMMATE: No--some are kosher. Let's see what else is available
[several more minutes of chatter from ROOMMATE omitted. ROOMMATE goes to bed finally and gets into bed. Then starts fiddling with the window next to his bed. Then starts slamming the windows closed]
ROOMMATE: Do you have a hammer?
ME: No
ROOMMATE: Do you have something I could use as a hammer?
ME: No
ROOMMATE: Do you know anyone in the dorm with a hammer?
[I do not answer. Roommate gets up and goes outside]
ROOMMATE: Does anyone here have a hammer? [No answer] Oh well--I bet I could use my Shabbat shoe. [Several loud bangs then start coming from the window. Predictably, after the third or fourth, there's an "Uh oh". He puts the shoe down and gets back into bed. Etc]
previous night, the script was this:
[Everyone in the room in bed, asleep or near sleeping. Lights out. Crazy ROOMMATE is fluttering about. Goes out and slams the door shut behind him. Comes back, australian roommate shouts at him:
AUSTRALIAN ROOMMATE: Can you please stop slamming the fucking door?
ROOMMATE: [Pause] I don't think that was me.
ROOMMATE: [Ev
Monday, February 22, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sick
Made it almost to the finish line, and last night I came down with a cold. Dammit. Thought I'd make it all the way through, though everyone around me is getting sick. Hope it isn't severe.
Another mosquito last night. Buzzed me all night, until finally it made a fatal mistake and landed right on the tip of my nose, and then the hunter became the hunted.
Another mosquito last night. Buzzed me all night, until finally it made a fatal mistake and landed right on the tip of my nose, and then the hunter became the hunted.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Screwed by the mikvah
The mikva turnstyle screwed me out of 2 shekels today. But I'll get mine back...
Bought a 3-pack of white socks and gleefully tossed all those black shouk socks away, because they were staining my feet.
Yesterday my effeminate yeshivisher roommate told me how he was _sure_ that his brother was bi, and that everyone was bi to somw extent. He's trying out the bullworker that the other students are passing around now. I have to start changing in the bathroom.
Bought a 3-pack of white socks and gleefully tossed all those black shouk socks away, because they were staining my feet.
Yesterday my effeminate yeshivisher roommate told me how he was _sure_ that his brother was bi, and that everyone was bi to somw extent. He's trying out the bullworker that the other students are passing around now. I have to start changing in the bathroom.
Monday, February 15, 2010
People who snore
People who snore:
My first roommate.
My second roommate.
My third roommate.
My fourth roommate.
My first roommate.
My second roommate.
My third roommate.
My fourth roommate.
hiking trip
Had a lovely hike today in the Judean hills about 1/2 hour west of here. The hills are in bloom now with small red poppies and pink and white almond trees. The hillsides are terraced by crumbling stone walls into small plots to retain rainwater for the almonds. We saw a couple of stone crusader forts, and a spring, and a wine press--essentially a sunken stone pit tiled to retain the juice as peasants trampled the grapes.
Weather was hot, in the 80s, and dry. I had only 1 liter of water, so I had to beg some from someone else.
Because we were past the 67 border we had an armed guard with us. Hike took about 5 hours over low hills, and it really made me miss Seattle.
Weather was hot, in the 80s, and dry. I had only 1 liter of water, so I had to beg some from someone else.
Because we were past the 67 border we had an armed guard with us. Hike took about 5 hours over low hills, and it really made me miss Seattle.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Welcome
Went to Male Aduma, a settlement in the west bank, for Shabbat. It's in a range of desert hills just west of Jerusalem, surrounded by arab villages. The landscape looks like southern california, but drier. Half the town is religious, the other half secular. In the morning the hillside facing us was covered by a herd of camels grazing. The local arabs also graze sheep (we saw some), and we also saw two antelope of some type darting down the hill.
They gave each of us a schedule that showed who we would be staying with and eating with for each meal; they mixed it up so we would visit different families during the visit. After shul on Shabbat, the lunch schedule showed that my classmate and I were due to eat with the Solomons in building 22, apartment 4. We walked up the road, and found the doorway to buildings 22-24. We walked upstairs to apartment 4, found the apartment marked "Solomon", and knocked. A 10 year old boy opened the door, and showed us inside, and his parents warmly welcomed us and ushered us into the dining room, where the table was set but missing one setting (they quickly put out another dish).
The family emigrated from Columbia only two years ago, and they were obviously struggling. The father and son spoke only fair English, so we communicated in a mixture of Spanish, English, and Hebrew. The mother spoke no English at all. We had a kind of sephardic cholent, consisting of chick peas, meat, and chicken, and they offered us sweet wine with water, "to make it softer" the father said, and it was wonderful.
The family was obviously struggling financially, and culturally as well. Though he was a unix programmer in south america, he couldn't find work here, so he was cleaning floors in a yeshiva. Recently he's picked up a job working at a matzoh factory. "But my son has a much better education here, very torah!" he said, and he took out and showed us his report card. The son, 10, entertained us with juggling and magic tricks, and gave a short talk in spanish about what he was learning at yeshiva. The father told us he as blessed to have visitors for shabbat.
After lunch, we went out on the balcony and admired the view, then he walked us all the way back to the family that had hosted us the previous night, and who was holding our bags. I asked him how he was connected to the yeshiva, how he had come to host us. He said he didn't know about our yeshiva. I wasn't sure I understood, so I asked again, and got the same answer. Then I took out our schedule, and showed him his name and address, and he said "Oh, I know that family, they are in the next building over. That's not us."
So--two families named Solomon, same apartment number, adjoining buildings. This family didn't raise an eyebrow when two Americans knocked on their door and walked in for a Shabbat meal. I can only hope to achieve that mindset someday.
They gave each of us a schedule that showed who we would be staying with and eating with for each meal; they mixed it up so we would visit different families during the visit. After shul on Shabbat, the lunch schedule showed that my classmate and I were due to eat with the Solomons in building 22, apartment 4. We walked up the road, and found the doorway to buildings 22-24. We walked upstairs to apartment 4, found the apartment marked "Solomon", and knocked. A 10 year old boy opened the door, and showed us inside, and his parents warmly welcomed us and ushered us into the dining room, where the table was set but missing one setting (they quickly put out another dish).
The family emigrated from Columbia only two years ago, and they were obviously struggling. The father and son spoke only fair English, so we communicated in a mixture of Spanish, English, and Hebrew. The mother spoke no English at all. We had a kind of sephardic cholent, consisting of chick peas, meat, and chicken, and they offered us sweet wine with water, "to make it softer" the father said, and it was wonderful.
The family was obviously struggling financially, and culturally as well. Though he was a unix programmer in south america, he couldn't find work here, so he was cleaning floors in a yeshiva. Recently he's picked up a job working at a matzoh factory. "But my son has a much better education here, very torah!" he said, and he took out and showed us his report card. The son, 10, entertained us with juggling and magic tricks, and gave a short talk in spanish about what he was learning at yeshiva. The father told us he as blessed to have visitors for shabbat.
After lunch, we went out on the balcony and admired the view, then he walked us all the way back to the family that had hosted us the previous night, and who was holding our bags. I asked him how he was connected to the yeshiva, how he had come to host us. He said he didn't know about our yeshiva. I wasn't sure I understood, so I asked again, and got the same answer. Then I took out our schedule, and showed him his name and address, and he said "Oh, I know that family, they are in the next building over. That's not us."
So--two families named Solomon, same apartment number, adjoining buildings. This family didn't raise an eyebrow when two Americans knocked on their door and walked in for a Shabbat meal. I can only hope to achieve that mindset someday.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Same old same old
Dinner tonight was a potato, tuna melt. Apparently they're going to keep sending this back to us until we eat it (see last night's menu) as you do with a 10 year old child.
My back tooth hurts--I think it's cracked. Damn.
My back tooth hurts--I think it's cracked. Damn.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Wimps
The yeshiva is having a five hour hike in the nearby hills for next Monday, but as of yesterday only about seven of my noodle-limbed compatriots had signed up, so they had to give an announcement during lunch asking more people to sign up. The trip looks cool--Maccabean caves, hills, springs, etc.
Dinner today was total crap--baked potatoes, a tub of tuna fish, and stone cold soup in a big pot (not room temperature--fridge-cold). I guess someone had a dentist appointment tonight.
Dinner today was total crap--baked potatoes, a tub of tuna fish, and stone cold soup in a big pot (not room temperature--fridge-cold). I guess someone had a dentist appointment tonight.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Lowered Expectations
Tonight at dinner, they served us a big tray of oven-toasted bread slices. And I got seriously excited. It was fantastic. I put butter on it. This is the first toast I've had since I got here.
It's been three days since we had hot water in the dorms. I showered in a mikva on Friday, but have been stinky ever since. I think they just fixed it tonight, but we'll see whether that's the case. I am super excited if they have. My bar is now lowered to where toast and hot water make me ecstatic. Coming home will be a holiday.
It's been three days since we had hot water in the dorms. I showered in a mikva on Friday, but have been stinky ever since. I think they just fixed it tonight, but we'll see whether that's the case. I am super excited if they have. My bar is now lowered to where toast and hot water make me ecstatic. Coming home will be a holiday.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Mikva
I've never been to a mikva before, but the hot water died here on Thursday night, and I really needed a shower Friday, or else it would be 3 days w/o a shower. So Friday afternoon I went with someone from the dorm to the mikva. A mikva here includes a hot shower before, so for 8 shekels ($2) it would be worth it.
The mikva turns out to be in the Arab quarter, oddly enough. The little courtyard was deserted, which was surprising to me, on a Friday afternoon. There was one of those big cheese cutter turnstyles with a coin entry box near it, to get in. Inside it was like a gym shower room: rubber mat floors, benches, tiled walls. There were more people inside than appeared outside, but it was oddly quiet. I started talking to the guy who brought me, but he shushed me, and said that you don't talk in the mikvah, which was actually kind of nice. My glasses fogged up immediately, which is a good thing, in a room full of naked men.
The hot shower was fantastic--the best since I've been here. Small, but perfectly formed. Walked over to the mikvehs without toweling when I was done. They were two small tiled pools, like hot tubs, but about 5' deep, and about 6' wide. One hot, and one cold. I was hoping to use the hot one, but it had 5 guys in it already, and 6 naked men in a pool less than an armspan across isn't my idea of fun. So I went into the cold pool, which had only 1 other guy in it.
"Cold" really turned out to be room temperature. A little chilly on first contact, but you adjust quickly. I got in, and stood in the corner.
One concept I've heard about the mikveh is related to the concept of 1/60: if you drop unkosher food into a pot of kosher food by accident, or a drop of milk into a pan of stew, if the total volume of the unkosher material is less than 1/60 of the surrounding material, the small amount is nullified--it becomes as if it doesn't exist. Aryeh Kaplan describes how the minimal size of a mikveh has the same effect: your body volume will be small enough to be nullified by the water in the mikveh. When immersed completely, you become nullified, essentially dead.
I breathed a few times, then exhaled and submerged. Sinking below the surface, feet off the ground, you get a little dizzy. For 10 seconds, I was dead. Which feels remarkably purifying. I dunked three times and came out. 42 years of impurity washed off, I hope, which I really need.
=========================
Cold today--cold enough to freeze ice on the cars when I got up this morning.
Spent this afternoon's Shabbat with some friends of my cousin. She was the most upbeat person I've ever met--a Muppet in the name of G-d. The woman was a child in Poland during the Shoah. Both she and her mother were captured by the Germans. Her father was a partisan, and gave her up to a Polish family to take care of; they took care of her for a year before a neighboring family told the Nazis that she wasn't their child. She kept in touch with them by mail after the war, until the mid 60s. In the last letter from her host family, they told her that the family that turned her in was still resentful about her making it through alive, and that other families in the village were too. The sons were growing up, and were claiming that when they grew up they were going to find her. So, the family said, please don't write back, in case they intercept one of these letters and find out where you are.
The mikva turns out to be in the Arab quarter, oddly enough. The little courtyard was deserted, which was surprising to me, on a Friday afternoon. There was one of those big cheese cutter turnstyles with a coin entry box near it, to get in. Inside it was like a gym shower room: rubber mat floors, benches, tiled walls. There were more people inside than appeared outside, but it was oddly quiet. I started talking to the guy who brought me, but he shushed me, and said that you don't talk in the mikvah, which was actually kind of nice. My glasses fogged up immediately, which is a good thing, in a room full of naked men.
The hot shower was fantastic--the best since I've been here. Small, but perfectly formed. Walked over to the mikvehs without toweling when I was done. They were two small tiled pools, like hot tubs, but about 5' deep, and about 6' wide. One hot, and one cold. I was hoping to use the hot one, but it had 5 guys in it already, and 6 naked men in a pool less than an armspan across isn't my idea of fun. So I went into the cold pool, which had only 1 other guy in it.
"Cold" really turned out to be room temperature. A little chilly on first contact, but you adjust quickly. I got in, and stood in the corner.
One concept I've heard about the mikveh is related to the concept of 1/60: if you drop unkosher food into a pot of kosher food by accident, or a drop of milk into a pan of stew, if the total volume of the unkosher material is less than 1/60 of the surrounding material, the small amount is nullified--it becomes as if it doesn't exist. Aryeh Kaplan describes how the minimal size of a mikveh has the same effect: your body volume will be small enough to be nullified by the water in the mikveh. When immersed completely, you become nullified, essentially dead.
I breathed a few times, then exhaled and submerged. Sinking below the surface, feet off the ground, you get a little dizzy. For 10 seconds, I was dead. Which feels remarkably purifying. I dunked three times and came out. 42 years of impurity washed off, I hope, which I really need.
=========================
Cold today--cold enough to freeze ice on the cars when I got up this morning.
Spent this afternoon's Shabbat with some friends of my cousin. She was the most upbeat person I've ever met--a Muppet in the name of G-d. The woman was a child in Poland during the Shoah. Both she and her mother were captured by the Germans. Her father was a partisan, and gave her up to a Polish family to take care of; they took care of her for a year before a neighboring family told the Nazis that she wasn't their child. She kept in touch with them by mail after the war, until the mid 60s. In the last letter from her host family, they told her that the family that turned her in was still resentful about her making it through alive, and that other families in the village were too. The sons were growing up, and were claiming that when they grew up they were going to find her. So, the family said, please don't write back, in case they intercept one of these letters and find out where you are.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
safety
Last night, walking home through the city, i heard a loud bang a few streets away. Looked around nervously to see whether anyone was panicking, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention. About 5 minutes later, a larger bang. Again, no reaction by those around me. So either Jerusalemites know what a bomb sounds like, or people here are assuming that it can't happen again.
On This American Life, they had people giving their predictions for 2010. And old Israeli woman predicted a third intifada (God forbid).
No snow last night, only rain. Kitchen staff is back, but wary.
On This American Life, they had people giving their predictions for 2010. And old Israeli woman predicted a third intifada (God forbid).
No snow last night, only rain. Kitchen staff is back, but wary.
Winter
Possibility of snow has been predicted for tonight and tomorrow in Jerusalem. I'm told Jerusalem gets snow once or twice a winter; it's an inch or two, and the city shuts down: grocery stores are emptied of bread and milk, buses and taxis vanish, stores shut down across the city, schools close, horrible traffic jams ensue as outgoing roads fill with Jerusalemites fleeing the city, and Tel Avivers flocking in to see the snow.
The yeshiva kitchen staff showed their colors by hightailing it out early, leaving nothing three trays of blackened food for dinner for all the students, who will end up eating each other if it does indeed snow, because the kitchen staff will be hiding at home.
I learned recently that Victoria's Secret has a factory in Israel, in or near Jerusalem.
The yeshiva kitchen staff showed their colors by hightailing it out early, leaving nothing three trays of blackened food for dinner for all the students, who will end up eating each other if it does indeed snow, because the kitchen staff will be hiding at home.
I learned recently that Victoria's Secret has a factory in Israel, in or near Jerusalem.
Fat Bastard
There's a great big fat guy in the yeshiva. Yesterday at lunch I saw him take five plates of food. I don't mean that he took them one after another; he took five dinner plates from the table, filled each one with a full meal, lined them up on the table, and ate them all. I'd seen that line of plates on the table before but never made the connection.
Under other circumstances I would find that merely funny, and mildly gross. But we regularly run out of food here (especially on popular days, like lasagna day, yesterday).
Fat bastard.
Under other circumstances I would find that merely funny, and mildly gross. But we regularly run out of food here (especially on popular days, like lasagna day, yesterday).
Fat bastard.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Penury
As of yesterday, I am officially on leave without pay for the next 6 weeks. Break out the instant noodles.
Monday, February 1, 2010
It's not easy being green
Today at mincha they just announced the news that one of the students, a 24 year old guy, just got engaged. He wasn't in the room, and they brought him in and everyone clapped and sang, and we got in a big circle and danced, and you could feel the yearning and envy of 60 twenty-something guys all wishing it were them. It was like being in a roomful of girls, and I was the biggest girl of all.
Gorilla
Tonight at dinner I grabbed the serving utensil out of the hand of the sweetest student there, in order to get a bouraka before they ran out.
I'm becoming an animal.
I'm becoming an animal.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
spring
This past Shabbat, January 30, we saw the cherry trees in bloom.
Today is exactly 6 weeks til my flight home.
Today is exactly 6 weeks til my flight home.
Friday, January 29, 2010
bad reputation
i feel like such a whore
walking around the dorm
in these plastic shower sandals.
i suppose i shouldn't have bought them
with high heels
walking around the dorm
in these plastic shower sandals.
i suppose i shouldn't have bought them
with high heels
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Loada falafa
Had a shwarma laffa for supper today. Should have had a falafel laffa, because it sounds funnier.
Last night ate dinner with the rabbi and 4 other students in his home in Betar, which is behind the "Green Line," which means that it's in the West Bank. Betar is the town where Bar Kochba fought the Romans. Drove along a walled highway, which is part of the wall that you hear about in the news. It's a really high wall, and the top half tilts over the top of the highway. Betar itself is a walled city of 35,000 people, with shops, and even a set of buses. All the residents are religious (mostly Hassidic) so it's crawling with kids. One of the local buses went by completely full of kids, riding around at night.
Looking forward to Friday very much: sleep late, then go out to a new little cafe that I just found, to get some squeezed-on-command OJ, a cafe fuque, by-the-pound baked goods, and the English-language Jerusalem post. And the guy who works there is super nice.
I have a local US number that connects to my Israel phone. Calling it costs you only the cost of a call to 212 area code (I pay a bit on my end to receive the call). If anyone wants to call, let me know and I'll give you the number.
Last night ate dinner with the rabbi and 4 other students in his home in Betar, which is behind the "Green Line," which means that it's in the West Bank. Betar is the town where Bar Kochba fought the Romans. Drove along a walled highway, which is part of the wall that you hear about in the news. It's a really high wall, and the top half tilts over the top of the highway. Betar itself is a walled city of 35,000 people, with shops, and even a set of buses. All the residents are religious (mostly Hassidic) so it's crawling with kids. One of the local buses went by completely full of kids, riding around at night.
Looking forward to Friday very much: sleep late, then go out to a new little cafe that I just found, to get some squeezed-on-command OJ, a cafe fuque, by-the-pound baked goods, and the English-language Jerusalem post. And the guy who works there is super nice.
I have a local US number that connects to my Israel phone. Calling it costs you only the cost of a call to 212 area code (I pay a bit on my end to receive the call). If anyone wants to call, let me know and I'll give you the number.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Strong Man
My roommate came in last night at about midnight and started watching a DVD on his laptop. He was using earphones, but after a while the giggling, the screen light, and the rattling potato chip bag started to get to me and I got up and asked him to watch outside. To his credit, he did, no fuss.
Walking home from yeshiva at night takes 40 minutes, door to door, which is about what the bus takes. Getting rainy and colder now, but I can use the exercise.
Got a line on some people who might be able to fix me up; going to make some calls tomorrow.
Walking home from yeshiva at night takes 40 minutes, door to door, which is about what the bus takes. Getting rainy and colder now, but I can use the exercise.
Got a line on some people who might be able to fix me up; going to make some calls tomorrow.
Hobo Jo(sh)
I was warned
That trying to shave my beard with fingernail scissors
Would look bad
They were right
That trying to shave my beard with fingernail scissors
Would look bad
They were right
Sunday, January 24, 2010
wheeeee
i'm living on caffeine these days, which is new to me. i doze off constantly in class, which can be embarrassing in a class with 4 students and a teacher around a table. once as i fell asleep i started to ask a question. it wasn't a question, actually: two or three question words just popped out of my mouth as i dozed off. luckily the rabbi held up his finger and finished a longish discussion, so by the time that he finished ans asked me what my question was i was able to claim that I'd forgotten it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Small Things
Bought a sixpack of socks and two pairs of underwear, and I have a new lease on life. Previously, I had to do laundry every 7 days or recycle. Doing laundry here is a chore--have to be here for an hour as it goes through the wash, then move it to the dryer and wait another hour, and I get home after 9pm most days. This give me two whole extra days. Amazing how $10 on undergarments can make life so much easier.
On closer examination, though, it appears that the socks are dissolving inside my shoes. Wore another pair of socks from home today, and they came out covered with black lint, suspiciously the same color as my $8 sixpack of socks from the street vendor. Doing laundry with 2 pairs of them now, mixed in with a bunch of white underwear. This could end up in tears.
Yesterday drank a cup of wine with kiddush, and after 20 minutes had a nice buzz going. Never tried that before--all the voices in my head: gone! I could learn to like that! However, tried it again after the meal, and found out that the wine trick only works on an empty stomach.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Pocketknife
Been looking for a teensy pocketknife for ages. I need something able to help me peel an orange, and small enough to carry around. Finally I found the world's smallest swiss-army-style pocketknife in a hardware store. It comes on a keychain, which is just what I was looking for. It was also a lot more expensive than I wanted, and then it was worth, frankly (24 shekels), but--hey, i guess that's only six dollars.
You can see how small it is here:
And here am I, for scale:
Wow, that's a small pocketknife.
Trip back in time
Last weekend was a shabbaton to a yeshiva in a small farming community north of Tel Aviv, just a few miles from the coast. The theme was "hard decisions made by people during the holocaust." On Sunday we got to drive to the beach and walk to a few areas where Jewish settlers were smuggled ashore, trying to avoid the British blockade that existed before the creation of Israel. We talked to an old man who, as a child, witnessed a few of the battles between the British and settler Jews, and between the varying Jewish military factions.
On the trip home, the bus pulled off the highway and we all piled out to daven mincha (afternoon prayer) before it got too late. We passed by a bunch of lovely fields, and ended up davening by a graffiti covered bus stand on an exit ramp. A few moments after we pulled off, another car pulled up behind us and the driver hopped out to daven with us. That was very cool.
My bestest big toe
Scary roommate has taken to staying up late, watching DVDs on his computer with the bright screen facing my bed, drinking soda pop, snickering, and farting loudly.
The other roommate seems to have disappeared. He was staying out later and later, and has finally ceased to come home at all. He wore hair spray and smoked, so I suspect a party.
Last night scary roommate told me that he thought party roommate had found an apartment in another neighborhood, and was moving out permanently. "So I guess it's just the two of us from now on," he says to me, as I'm lying in bed.
[shudder]
Fire
Fire is like property - Reish Lakish
Fire is like an arrow - Rabbi Yochanan
Fire is like a relationship gone bad
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
blind
a student just came up to me and said he'd accidentally looked at my hands during the kohen blessing this morning and asked if he would go blind.
give it up
spoke to a rav today and learned that there might be an escape hatch from being a kohen, in order to marry.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Shabbat in Nachlaot
Last Shabbat got to visit a family in Nachlaot, one of the only "mixed" communities in Jerusalem, where "mixed" means all sorts of groups, from hassidim to black hat, and all levels of observant from Haredi to non-observant. It's apparently the only neighborhood in town where everyone gets along. There were kids playing basketball when i was there, some in kippas, some without. It was very cool.
My dorm has mosquitoes. At night I hear one or two buzzing around my head, and I hide under the covers and breathe through the fabric.
More roommate excitement
Got to hear my latest roommate pleasure himself in bed last night.
Tomorrow I'm going to start looking for new housing.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
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