Spain +

Spain was ... well, I can't give it an overall grade. What cast a big shadow over Madrid was the hotel; not the hotel per se, which was actually very good, but the location. It was by the airport with no good access to the city 35 miles away. Public transportation involved taking a bus to the metro, which wasn't a big deal. It was cheap and took about 45 minutes. A taxi was 35 Euros. And there was a lot of back-and-forth. The reason we stayed there is because Moshe stayed there over the summer with his family, which was fine when you're travelling with 3 kids who don't want to sight see all day, because it had a nice outdoor pool and it was close to a big shopping center which was great for his shopaholic wife. But for us it was a pain. This is why people need a travel agent.

The highlights were walking down the Gran Via, the flamenco dinner show, the ceremony we had for Batsheva, visiting Bernabeu Stadium (where Real Madrid plays), a day trip to Toledo (yet another European Jewish graveyard) and dinner at a place called, oddly, Ten Con Ten. Food was amazing.

Batsheva's birthday dinner at Cardamomo Flamenco Club

Yafit spent the past 2 months writing this book.
It's a collection of family stories and recipes in honor of Batsheva's birthday
and Batsheva and Eli's 50th anniversary which is Jan 5, 2021.

L to R
Sid, Moshe, Eli, Yafit , Batsheva

What used to be the most prestigious synagogue in Toledo

At the Toledo train station

The sacred ground of Bernabeu

Then we took the Ave (fast train) to Seville. We sat in business class which was a treat. Leather seats and actual dinner service. It only took 2.5 hours. We arrived at 1030 and took a cab to Las Casas de la Juderia in the medieval part of town. Because it appeals to the I've-been-here-before aspect of my personality, I loved it. It's comprised of several conjoined houses dating back to the 15th Century, very similar to the Pulitzer in Amsterdam and the Rubens and Rembrandt in Bruges. Absolutely loaded with quaint and charm. I don't know when the last hanukkiah was lit in Seville, but because this was the last night and because I bought a cheap tin throw-away hanukkiah to bring along, we might have been the first to light in 500 years.

The hotel is 600 years old with lots of very flammable wood.
For safety's sake I lit the hanukkiah in the tub.

We had a walking tour the next morning with an outstanding guide, Alvaro Carmona. The three hour tour turned into four. Truth is, I've never had much interest in Spain and consequently never studied about it. Nor do I speak Spanish, which is pretty unusual since I speak everything else. I always figured it's because in a previous life I was burned at the stake and I still carry a grudge. But Alvaro turned me around. He started by sitting us down with a map and giving us a history lesson. The city was part of the Roman Empire, conquered by Muslims in 711 and ruled until 1492, gradually reconquered by the Catholics for almost the same amount of time, who ultimately expelled them along with the Jews in 1492. The interesting thing about this series of conquests is that nothing was destroyed, everything was re-purposed. The city wall, built by the Muslims, is 7.5 miles long. It's been incorporated in many of the buildings. Part of a Roman aqueduct was used as the outer wall of the Alcazar, which itself is an amalgam of mosque, government administration, royal palace and a church. Etc etc. In it's heyday Seville was the most powerful city in Europe. Besides it's empire, it was the main port of entry to Europe and collected tons of taxes. The cathedral (re-purposed from a mosque) was built with silver and gold (measured in tons) brought over from South America. You get the picture. Jews, of course, played a very important role in all of this. They knew commerce, trading, accounting and languages. And pretty much everyone, Muslims, Jews and Catholics, got along for a couple of centuries. Then along came Queen Isabella and the rest is a sad history.

Narrow streets, colorful buildings

Girona Tower, formerly a minaret

All they had to do was add a bell to the tower and it became a church

The amount of gold and silver is measured in tons

Christopher Columbus' final resting place.
His first grave was in Valladolid where he died in 1506.
His son had the body moved to a monastery in Seville not long after, where it rested until 1542.
From there it was moved to Santo Domingo.
In 1795 it went to Havana, where he rested until Cuba got its independence from Spain in 1898.
He finally made it back to Seville and was buried in a grand manner in the cathedral.
Sort of fitting for someone whose fame derived from crossing the ocean several times.

Courtyard, tiles and garden of the Alcazar

We left Spain on Dec 31. Our flight landed at 1045PM and the plan was to take the train to Jerusalem. Unfortunately the last train left the station at 930PM. There is a bus that departs hourly, on the hour. We thought about waiting for the midnight bus, but decided to take a sherut instead. What a 3-ring circus. Several people were gathered at the one sherut that was parked, while the driver figured out which passengers would go with him, and which would go in the next one which was supposed to have been there 5 minutes ago. Four of us were going to the same neighborhood, so it was a matter of dividing up the remaining passengers. The second sherut finally showed up and the two drivers started debating about who would go in which vehicle. This required a spreadsheet. As we waited, the bus to Jerusalem arrived. Should we or shouldn't we? The drivers finally figured out how to divide us up and promised that we would be the second stop. So we ushered in 2020 in a sherut to Jerusalem. 

We made our final trek to the shuk on Wednesday to get all the things we want to bring back. 

Yesterday we spent the better part of the day in Tel Aviv. We met with the Jaffa Institute representative who took us to two locations. They do amazing work with a population that badly needs help. The first visit was with the director of a program called Welfare to Well-being. It's only for women, ages 20s to 50s, who have never been part of the workforce. They get training in basic computer skills, business communication, budgeting, interview skills, how to dress for the workplace. In addition they get one-on-one time with a counselor/life coach. They go through a rigorous interview process to qualify for the program and they have to sign a contract to show up promptly every day and stay the full day. There are no dropouts and 100% of the graduates find decent jobs.  

From there we went to see a new suite hotel in Tel Aviv, The Levee, which opened 6 months ago. They sent an email to my agency owner which she forwarded to me. This place was too weird for words. The front door was locked and there was an entry key pad. No visible lobby or anyone walking around. We were about to leave when someone appeared and I knocked on the window. He let us in, grudgingly, with a look that said who sent you? I explained about the email and he agreed to show us a suite. An apartment actually. It was very impressive. The building was rehabbed and 4 floors were added. I asked how to book. He said guests contact the hotel and they decide whether or not to accept them. Hmmm. He said most of the guests are well known and they have to be very discreet. Since the apartments (only 8 of them) are 1 to 3 bedrooms it's not the kind of place you bring your girlfriend. As nice as it was I can't think of anyone who would be a good fit.

From there we went to our granddaughter's apartment for dinner. It's her first grown up apartment, two bedrooms/2 bathrooms. Dori lives with her boyfriend Itzik, who's at Hebrew University studying agronomy. Dori is studying design at the Holon Institute. And Meital, who's at MIT studying computer engineering, is visiting for a month. We had a lovely evening with them. They are all nice kids and we're very proud of them.

When we got back to Jerusalem (we took the bus) it was close to midnight. We took the light rail to downtown and caught a bus home. The number of people out and about, including parents pushing baby carriages, was astounding. Once upon a time in Jerusalem the sidewalks rolled up at 9PM. Not anymore. 

So here we are, our last Shabbat. It's getting harder and harder to leave. I told Sid the next time we come we'll buy one way tickets. He's not there yet, but he agreed (in front of witnesses) that next time we'll come for 4 months. 

Shabbat shalom, for the last time this visit, from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid

Two weeks left

There's a well known Rabbi in town, Beryl Wein, who has a lecture series on Saturday nights in the winter. We've attended several in the years we've been coming here for an extended stay. The topic this year is 100 years later - how World War 1 continues to affect the world and the Jewish people today. I wish we were staying longer (for all kinds of reasons) to be able to hear all 10 lectures. He's a very good speaker, another one who doesn't use notes which seems to be de rigueur around here. 

As our time here winds down I've had to pack a lot of things into the calendar that I've more or less put off. This week it was getting together with Timna, an American-Israeli friend from Chicago who came back to Israel after 20+ years in the States. We met for coffee and then went to a play that a co-worker was in. The play, surprisingly well written and acted by an amateur theatre group, touched all the points on the emotional scale. 

Everyone knows The Hunt for Red October. This week it was The Hunt for Colonia. The first question is: what is Colonia? I've been hearing about it for years. It's supposed to cure everything. My friends swear by it. It heals cuts and bruises. It helps an upset stomach. It's good for aching joints. Etc. If it's such a great product you'd think you could find it everywhere. Actually not. There is one little hole-in-the-wall store in Tel Aviv that sells it. So on Wednesday Batsheva and I hopped on a bus to Tel Aviv (the sleazy part) for a little shopping trip. 

Tel Aviv has two central bus stations - the old one and the new one. Duh. The old one is really something to see. In its heyday, which wasn't so long ago, it was a destination in itself. It's 6 stories tall and was essentially a big shopping mall with a bus depot attached. Unfortunately it's in an unfortunate part of town. Up till a couple years ago there were a lot of homeless squatters who made camp in a park outside the station. It's not the sort of place you'd want to walk around at night. But during the day it's fine, and that's where the Levinsky Market is. The market neighborhood used to be mostly Turkish, and that's where you go for authentic Turkish products, of which Colonia is one. Then it was a matter of finding the shop. We looked into a couple of the small stores, and finally had to ask someone. Where can we buy Colonia? Everyone knew, of course. Go to the shop next to the bakery.  

The shop owner was typical of the small businessmen of a generation that I thought died out a long time ago. Surly. Unfriendly. But he was the Colonia guy, so you just have to put up with him. We asked for 8 one litre bottles. He had 7 on the shelf. He tried to sell us one of the larger bottles. We said no, we want 8 of litre size. He made a big show of looking for an 8th bottle and then miraculously, on the shelf below, he found an entire carton full one one litre bottles. We had to bargain, of course. After all we were buying in bulk. So he agreed to lower the price by 2 and a half shekels, to 35 shekels per bottle. 

Levinsky Market in the sleazy part of town

The shop, the ONLY shop, that sells Colonia.
Behind the owner is a shelf full.
The only other things he sells are large cans of anchovies, lots of olives
and some smoked and pickled fish.

From Levinsky we went to another market, the famous Carmel Market. It was a quick bus ride away. We walked around for a while and then went to get something for lunch at a great Yeminite restaurant called Mangana.

Busy, bustling Carmel Market

After lunch we made our way to the new bus station and caught the bus back to Jerusalem. Fortunately the traffic flowed and we got to Jerusalem at 430PM, a bit later than I wanted because I had to meet my friend Bevie at Hebrew University for a harp concert that started a 5. Traffic was pretty congested so I hopped in a taxi. We went a couple of blocks and then it was a parking lot. Traffic jams in Jerusalem are legendary, and this was epic. Long story short, I got there with 5 minutes to spare. The concert was lovely. It was the first time I'd seen a harp played from up close. Who knew there were foot pedals?

Hanukkah starts Sunday night. On Monday everyone is coming over here. I should think about what to make. On Wednesday we're going to Madrid, not something I'd recommend in the winter. But Batsheva is turning 70 and instead of a party she wanted to go abroad. I don't think she cared about the destination. No one consulted me; I would have said somewhere warm-ish like Greece, Sicily, Malta or Cyprus. The kids decided on Madrid, which is what happens when the kids are in charge. I'm not taking my laptop to Spain, so next week's post will be delayed by a few days.

Shabbat shalom and Hanukkah sameach from Jerusalem,
Peggy and Sid

Connections, Culture and Cocktails

Busy week ...

Started the week (Sunday and Monday) by going to our regular classes. After the Monday class I had lunch with my friend Bevie, who I've known for close to 50 years. And she looks almost the same as she did back then. It was supposed to be a quick lunch because she had things to do, but as usual when we get together it's not less than 3 hours. On the way to lunch we popped in for a quick tour of the new Ibis Hotel that (finally) opened on Ben Yehuda Street. It, like most things in Israel, has been under construction for years longer than it should have been. 

We had a bat mitzvah on Tuesday night. Naturally I couldn't show up without a visit to my hairdresser, Nabil. I met Batsheva at the salon, we both had our hair done and then went to lunch. Another 3 hour event.

By their head covering shall you know them. There are a number of communities on the spectrum of orthodoxy here. Most of our friends are modern orthodox, known in the vernacular as "kipa srgua" (knitted kipa). Just as it sounds, the men wear crocheted kipas and many of the married women cover their hair with scarves or hats, sometimes but not always. Women in this group are usually more participatory in religious activities, but not at the same level as men. (Feminist alert: You are not a man and never will be. There is no such thing as "gender neutral". Get over yourselves.) The idea of having a bat mitzvah for girls is fairly recent. Because girls don't participate in the same way boys do, a bat mitzvah is usually just a party, reminiscent of a sweet 16. Still this is a way to acknowledge that at age 12 girls are excepted to take on the role of an adult Jewish woman.

We went to the bat mitzvah of the granddaughter of good friends of ours from Chicago. I love these events. It's not about the party, it's about continuity. Another generation assuming the role of a Jewish adult. Of course, there is context. The grandfather is a survivor of multiple concentration camps. For him to see his grandchildren living in Israel, growing up religious, maintaining the values, practices and traditions, has a meaning that far exceeds the usual grandparents' and parents' nachas (pride). 

Proud parents Miryam and Eli, with bat mitzvah daughter Yael

Saba (grandfather) and Yael

Batia and Arnold

The culture part of this week's post was on Wednesday afternoon.  We've seen the permanent exhibits at the Israel Museum a thousand times; unless there's a special exhibit we usually don't go. This time there were four. We spent the whole afternoon there, which tested the limits of endurance. The exhibits were excellent, spanning archaeology, mythology, literature, clothing, photography and video.

We had lunch yesterday with Doris and Norm, friends from Chicago who are literally the accidental immigrants. They came on a visit a couple years ago and never went back. A health issue occurred that made it pretty much impossible for Norm to travel. They were fortunate to have people who cleaned out and sold their home, and shipped the items they wanted to keep. We got together with them during our last visit (summer 2018). They looked fantastic then, and continue to do so. They have a great apartment, kids, grandchildren and 19 great-grandchildren who keep tabs on them, and have never been happier. They are both in their 90's and have been married 72 years. 

After visiting Norm and Doris, we went to our friend Ida's for cocktails. She's a great cook and hostess and has delightful friends. A wonderful way to unwind.

Ida with Jeff and Diane

Self explanatory

Ida with Sam and Debra

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid

Another calendar page turns over ...

Well here it is December and I'm mentally counting down the days we have left. Then I look at my to-do list to see how many things I can squeeze in and I'm starting to realize just  how little time that is. Considering we will be in Spain (more about that in an upcoming post) for a week at the end of the month, we only have 3 weeks netto, as they say here.

Besides joining a gym, I've been busy training with Shefa and my original krav maga teacher, Moshe. We met on Tuesday at a large public park, Gan Sacker, and trained outside, Yes, it was that warm. We trained for 3 hours, split between learning the finer points of momentum and leverage and disarming guns and knives. Very cool stuff.

Learning to push off an attacker.

It's hard to see, but that yellow thing is a gun. A training gun.

On Wednesday we went to Tel Aviv to meet Dori and Itzik, her bf, for lunch. We took the train and it was very quick and efficient. Once we got to Tel Aviv we had to take a local bus to the Carmel Market to meet Dori. The hardest part of the transportation was locating the bus stop. The train station is connected to the bus station by a bridge that goes over a major highway, so they are more or less together, which solves the confusion of two weeks ago when Sid went back to Sar-el. They have done a lot of renovations, but someone forgot to tell them to make signage for the buses. The bus parking lot is huge. The bus stop signs are small. I asked a driver where the #18 bus was and he replied, in typical Israeli fashion, over there. So we walked "over there", and finally found it. The rest was a piece of cake. We met at Erez Hatemani, one of the hole in the wall restaurants in the Yeminite Quarter, which used to be a slum and is now prime real estate. Location, location, location. It's very close to the beach and the Bauhaus neighborhood.  We sat outside; yes, it was that warm. It's always interesting to talk to young Israelis about their plans for the future, which usually include a several-months break before settling down to the working world. This, of course, is after the several-months post-army trip. I'm all for it. If you don't do it when you're young by the time you get around to it you're too old. These trips involve hiking, backpacking, hitchhiking. camping, hostels and local buses. 

After lunch Sid and I went to Liebling Haus, a new museum in the Bauhaus neighborhood. It opened in September with a special exhibit called Transferumbau (Transfer Agreements), which was the name of a program between 1933-1939 that made it possible to get some assets out of Germany. This is a little-known chapter of the pre-War Holocaust. Jews who had the foresight and means to get out of Germany and go to the Mandate were prohibited from taking assets with them. A program was set up between the German government and the Jewish Agency whereby Jews could sell assets, deposit them in a bank, and purchase construction materials with those funds. While Liebling Haus was being renovated walls that through time had been plastered over and floors that had been re-tiled were uncovered. Lo and behold German building materials from the 1930's were uncovered: wall and floor tiles manufactured by Villeroy & Boch, plumbing fixtures, doorknobs, building materials etc made by other German companies. The curators mounted photographs of the two families that lived in the building, along with photographic collages of the rehab work. A small and highly personal account of two families who were forced by circumstances to flee the homeland they loved, where they had lived for generations to a hot, dusty, primitive city where they didn't know the language or customs, but knowing they were among the lucky ones who got away with their lives and at least some of their possessions and assets.

Getting ready for an overnight guest and candles are in 15 minutes.

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid

Giving Thanks

I'm often asked about Thanksgiving in Israel. Do people know what it is? Is it celebrated? Can you get turkey? Cranberry sauce? Pumpkin pie?

One thing is for sure. Israelis might not know about Thanksgiving, but they know about Black Friday. It's caught on here, without the insanity of stores being open for 24 hours starting at midnight or whatever the shopping hours are. When I explain to Israelis what Black Friday in the U.S. is like they are incredulous. Who waits in line for hours just to get a TV at a bargain price? Who shops at 3AM? Who fights over the last microwave? Because Shabbat starts at 4PM, Black Friday extends at least until Sunday and possible longer. 

Thanksgiving, being the consummate American holiday, is celebrated by most Americans here. Traditionalists celebrate on Thursday, but a lot of people move the menu to Friday, celebrating both Shabbat and Thanksgiving with one meal. One of the hotels in Jerusalem has been putting on a big spread with all the traditional food for decades. I went once with an American friend when I lived here. Back then the food wasn't anywhere near the quality that it is today. I don't remember how good the dinner was; what I do remember is that it was a big splurge for a taste of home. 

On a per capita basis, Israelis are the biggest consumers of turkey in the world. But the idea of a whole turkey is a foreign concept. Back in the day, no one had an oven large enough to accommodate a whole turkey. Now it's a matter of who makes a whole turkey? Even in religious homes with large families, people make half turkeys or parts. So how is it that Israelis manage to eat so much? Shwarma (similar to gyros), schnitzel and smoked. 

Since we've been coming to Israel for an extended stay, we've celebrated Thanksgiving here 3 times. The first time was during our first visit in 2013 when the apartment we rented didn't have an oven at all, and only a 2-burner cooktop. I made a half turkey in a toaster oven. My fear was that it would burn on the outside and be raw on the inside. Fortunately it came out fine. 2013 was also the year that Hanukkah and Thanksgiving coincided, a confluence that won't take place for another 10,000 years. Literally. When I mentioned this to the butcher he looked at me with a blank stare, waiting for me to make the point. So to answer the first question above, not everyone knows what Thanksgiving is. Interestingly, in subsequent Thanksgiving years, when I tell the butcher I'm going to need something in November he says yes, a whole turkey. 

Cranberries and pumpkin are another matter. Pumpkin is grown here and used extensively in soups, couscous and stews. But pies are another matter. Pie is almost unknown, in spite of the American influence over food (peanut butter is very popular and locally manufactured) and the number of similar foods such as samosas and bourekas which come from a variety of food traditions. Cranberries can't be grown here but they are available in dried form. I'm not sure if soaking dried cranberries and attempting to make them into something approaching the cranberry sauce we're used to would work. Word on the street is that there's a store in one of the more Anglo neighborhoods that has all kinds of vital American canned goods. Two years ago one of our guests managed to find cranberries. This time I wasn't taking chances so I brought a can from home, but I wasn't going to try making a pumpkin pie because I don't know how it would work with the local parve cream. 

Every Thanksgiving has been different. Last night there were 6 of us. Two old friends, one new friend and a total stranger. Lots of food, laughs, stories and gratitude. 

When you don't have a rolling pin you just have to improvise

It's a good size kitchen

Thinking ahead I brought a can of cranberries. It got mangled by baggage handling.
Think about this the next time you check luggage.

This was a 7 kilo bird. It cooked in 2 hours. Nothing like fresh turkey.

Moshe, who is shorter than I am, attempted a table shot.

Shefa, Moshe, Sid

Shira and Nechlia

The aftermath

Hope your Thanksgiving was as nice and memorable as ours was.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid