Conspicuous Consumption ... 8 year old Master Chefs

Week 2 - January 19-26

This was a relatively quiet week.

The highlight, the most anticipated event of the week, was Trump's inauguration. Everyone I know here was thrilled. We watched it at Batsheva's and when he took the oath of office we all applauded. Well, not all of us. Dori was in Jerusalem for Shabbat, and she was the only one who didn't share our enthusiasm. As Shlomit (one of the daughters-in-law) put it, you're on your own in this family if you're not right wing. I was happy when Shlomit asked Dori where she stood on Israeli politics, she said she was moving more towards the center. As Sid quotes Churchill, if you're not a liberal when you're young you have no heart; if you're not a conservative when you're old you have no brains.

We had Shabbat lunch at the Sternlights, a family that Dori has known for close to 20 years. Terrific people, very warm and welcoming, great hosts and excellent cooks. On Saturday night we went back to Beryl Wein's shul for another lecture in the street names series -  this time on King George Street. Fascinating lecture about a fascinating period of history.

Sid went to the army on Sunday morning. Neither one of us slept well the night before; there's always the worry that you won't hear the alarm in the morning. But everything worked, he got picked up nice and early, and made it to the meeting point at the airport in plenty of time.

I, on the other hand, was in some sort of limbo. Sid wasn't around and I wasn't exercising - not even walking as much as I normally do. My twice-weekly krav maga class was suspended temporarily and it was high time to figure out a way to compensate. I called my friend Shefa, who in the past year got her krav maga instructor's certificate and is teaching once a week at a local gym. We met for lunch and figured out when we can get together to train. We start Sunday morning. That evening I attended the first of a 3-part series on reincarnation, and it's different than what we normally think of as "reincarnation". Spoiler alert - Job, according to the lecturer, was the reincarnation of Abraham's father Terah, who in that life did not sufficiently repudiate idol worship.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the frumest of them all. On Tuesday I went to my first ultra-orthodox consumer fair (for women only) ever. It was actually pretty interesting. There were lots of suppliers, primarily food preparation and child care products, as well as workshops on health, cooking and caring for infants and toddlers. Plus wigs, giftware and modest fashion. It was mobbed.

We finally got the television to work ... I've been switching back and forth between FOX and local stations. The local press coverage in many ways parallels what we see at home. Even more than the new administration, the cause celebre here is the witch hunt that's being carried out against Netanyahu. The press, which is in the thrall of left-wing anti-Bibi psychosis, is determined to make the government fall at exactly the wrong time. With Trump in the White House there has never been a better opportunity for actual progress on a fair resolution (i.e. Israel not slitting its own throat) to the hundreds of years war that has been waged in this corner of the world.

BTW, the washing machine in this apartment is the best yet. There's a 30 minute cycle that works beautifully. I'm still trying to figure out the oven, altho I did make brownies and an apple pie last week and they turned out fine.

The title of this week's post refers to a birthday party I attended Wednesday. Yes, for 8 year olds (twin girls), who are the daughters of Batsheva's brother David. Some background ... David is a very successful manufacturer of computer parts. He and his wife became parents very late in life - they were over 50. Having kids at an age when most people are becoming grandparents, well let's just say they approach things differently than 20 year olds. When I heard about the Master Chef themed party, my first reaction was what are they going to do for the bat mitzvahs and weddings? I know this sort of thing goes on in the States, and it can get pretty out of hand; I had no idea it also goes on here. Apparently it goes on a lot because there are companies that do themed kids parties. In spite of my inclination not to like it, the party was delightful. There were 50 kids (the girls are in 2 different classes in school, and the custom is to invite everyone in the class), all well-behaved. The organizers did a great job dividing the kids into groups, explaining what to do (they made pizza and pasta), and keeping everything moving along and under control.

So was it fair to dismiss this as conspicuous consumption? What about parents who can't afford to keep up? But there's always another perspective. David has the means to give his kids more than the average parent, and at his age why not? He might not be around for a lot of the celebrations that will take place in the future. He had a big dose of that reality a couple weeks ago; he barely recovered from a collapsed lung. So why not lavish his girls while he can share the fun with them?

Shabbat shalom,

Peggy and Sid

Do I REALLY look 72?

Week 1 - Thursday January 12 - Thursday January 19

We started the week at the grocery store. Of course. But first we stopped for a shakshuka breakfast at a tiny cafe on Hapalmach, which is the main street of our neighborhood. Then we went to the bank, where I used my new ATM card for the first time. What a thrill. The 600 shekels ($158) I withdrew didn't last very long, even tho we only bought a few things to tide us over till Sunday when we went to the shuk.

We also went out for dinner. We strolled over to Emek Refaim, which once upon a time was the happening street in Jerusalem. Over time it's quieted down. Several restaurants have closed, but a few have taken their places. We went to Foccacia, which from the name would suggest pizza and pasta. Instead it was a meat restaurant with a very varied menu. Sid had Thai noodles with beef, which was quite good except for the beef, which was tough and pretty much inedible. I had, of all things since in general I avoid them, a hamburger. But this being Israel it wasn't just any hamburger. It came with a slice of smoked goose breast, pineapple and a sweet sriracha sauce. Actually very good.

My jet lag hit on Thursday night. I couldn't fall asleep, read till at least 2AM, drifted in and out of sleep till 7 and got up because I couldn't get back into sleep. I wasn't up to much, so spent the day finishing unpacking and trying to figure out some of the quirks in the apartment. We went to Batsheva's for dinner, and since all of us were really exhausted, left there relatively early.

On Shabbat we went to Shira Hadasha, the egalitarian synagogue of, by and for Americans and other Anglos. It has changed over the years. Now the service (including the sermon and announcements) are only in Hebrew. I suppose they figured after all this time everyone should know Hebrew, but they certainly haven't retreated from egalitarianism.

On Saturday night we went to a lecture by Rabbi Beryl Wein; one of a series he's giving about Jerusalem street names. This week's street was Josef ben Mattityahu Ha'Cohen, more popularly known as Josephus Flavius. It was well researched, well done and fascinating. As it happens I'm currently reading a historical novel, Captive, which takes place at the same time and makes reference to many of the same names and places.

Sunday we went to the shuk, the famous produce market, which has become the place for dining and bars. As Israel slowly transitions to a 5 day work week, several of the stalls were closed. The good news is that it wasn't at all crowded, except at the really good felafel stand.  

Monday we started our trip for real. Enough shopping - time to engage our brains. Sid went to classes at Pardes, and I went to my women's class, which is one of the reasons I come here. Afterwards I went with my friend Bevie to Rimonim for lunch. As it happens, her sister was there as well having lunch with some friends. After lunch Bevie finally broke down and bought herself a smart phone. Lucky for her, one of her nephews works at a cell phone store, meaning she got a good price and an unlimited personal help line. The factoid about this particular nephew is that 40+ years ago Bevie and I took his dad and another one of Bevie's nephews to the circus, which they claim was a highlight of their childhood.

There is a relatively new custom (new to me at least) that's becoming quite popular here. Called a "hafrashat challah", it's a women-only event that takes place in private homes, synagogues or other public places. It's somewhat hard to explain without getting overly wordy, but it's about delving into the deep spiritual aspects of making challah. There's a speaker, naturally. And you actually make challah. We started with 2 kilos (4.5 pounds) of flour, and as we added each ingredient the speaker explained the symbolism: 3 spoons of salt for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. 4 spoons of sugar for Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah. 3 spoons of yeast which involves a play on the Hebrew word for yeast also being the Hebrew word for guard or protector. Etc. All this is a run up to arguably the most important aspect of challah making - separating an olive size piece of dough and putting it aside to be burned in the oven, in remembrance of the sacrificial system during Temple times. The act of separation has a blessing associated with it, as does everything in Judaism. It's a blessing that carries special weight because, like lighting candles to usher in Shabbat, it establishes a personal, private connection to the Creator of the Universe, and offers a few moments for women to speak directly to G-d. The 20 of us said the blessing and had our silent conversations. This isn't something you can do with your eyes open, and we stood with eyes closed and intense concentration. I did peek, however, and saw these women gently swaying back and forth with such focus and belief. It was one of those "you had to be there" moments, and it will stay with me for the rest of my life.

The other highlight this week was a talk by Caroline Glick, who is a brilliant analyst and thinker. She has a mile-long CV, including being on the Oslo negotiating team (and we know how well that went), she's an adviser to Netanyahu, was an officer in the IDF, has published several books, and writes a weekly column for the Jerusalem Post and Maariv (one of the Hebrew papers). The topic was the crisis in the American Jewish Community and she hit the nail right on the head. It will probably be on Youtube - definitely worth an hour of your time.

Dori will be in Jerusalem for Shabbat. We haven't seen her yet, and are very much looking forward to hearing about her life in Tel Aviv. 

So ... I took the light rail to the hafrashat challah. I tapped my transit card as I boarded and made my way to a seat. Because it's on the honor system there are frequent inspections. And we were inspected. I handed my card to the inspector and thought nothing of it until he said I didn't pay for the ride. I looked at him in disbelief and said of course I paid. We went back and forth, and he showed me his hand-held computer that said I hadn't paid. He asked for my identity card, which is standard procedure. Yes, the same identity card I used to vote 2 years ago and caused so much laughter because it's so old. Then he asked my age. I said that's not a polite question and he shouldn't be asking. He replied "we ask that kind of question". I told him to guess. He said 72. I was certain I mis-heard and asked him if he meant 62. No, he said, 72. I was pissed. Then he looked at my identity card and apologized for being off by a few years. Then he gave me a ticket. But he was so charming and sweet about it, explaining that he had no choice, describing the procedure for protesting the fine, and hoping that he hadn't hurt my feelings. Only in Israel. The first thing I did when I sat down again was to pull out a mirror to see if I saw the 72 year old that the inspector saw, and wondered what are the chances insurance will pay for a face lift.

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem, the capitol of Israel, which will be recognized as such tomorrow.

Peggy and Sid

Our 2017 Journey Begins ...

January 10-12, 2017

Besides Sid, only one other person knows what kind of pre-trip meltdown I had for 2 days prior to departing. I postponed organizing and packing till the day we left, which should have been OK since our flight didn't leave until 945PM. I already did all the shopping I had to do and mentally prepared a packing list; all I had to do was throw everything in the suitcase. Somehow it didn't quite unfold that way. I had a last minute office emergency that had to be taken care of immediately. I kept remembering something else that needed to be taken care of or brought with. Every time I remembered something I started freaking out about what else I had forgotten or neglected to do. Not a pretty sight, by any means.

The worst of it was that we didn't get upgraded on the flight to London, and I was furious. 24 hours before we departed there were 12 empty seats in business class; the morning we departed there were none. To make matters worse, we were cancelled off the upgrade list, but supposedly put on a list for airport upgrades. When we checked in for the flight the agent said we weren't even on that list, so she put our names back on. In the end we were upgraded (1 hour before the flight took off) at the gate, which was great, but what really infuriated me was that there were 5 empty seats in business class. And I want the $100 it cost me to check an additional bag refunded, since business class passengers are allowed 2 checked bags per person. American Airlines customer service is going to get an ear full about this.

The flight was smooth and we even landed 1/2 an hour early. It's a good thing, because security at Heathrow was more than thorough and took forever. I barely had time at the duty free to pick up a couple bottles of single malt to tide us over for the next 2-1/2 months.

The EL Al flight from London to Tel Aviv was about 95% full, and in coach it makes a big difference in comfort. We sat 4 rows from the back, with about 5 inches of legroom. The good news was by the time we got off the plane our luggage was on the carousel, and there was no line at immigration. Israel is so ahead of the game when it comes to electronic border control. There are kiosks in several locations for biometric passport holders, which apparently everyone but me has.

We got to the apartment around 1130PM. The key was hidden in the garden outside the building (this is why we always bring flashlights). And we only had to shlep the bags up 16 steps. The apartment is very large by Israeli standards (about 800 sq ft, 3 bedrooms and a bath and a half) and nicely rehabbed. And it's for sale ... for the shekel equivalent of $800,000. The owner stocked the fridge with cheese, milk and a box of cookies. We had a cup of tea and unpacked almost everything before crashing and going to sleep at 1AM.

We slept till 8 this morning. The weather is glorious - sunny and quite warm (high 50's). We finished unpacking, went out for breakfast and a bit of shopping at the local supermarket. 

As often as we've come to Israel, each time I see the coast line from the air it's still a thrill. From the moment we landed things felt right. All the reisefeber (pre-travel anxiety) went by the wayside. It feels like a missing limb has spontaneously regenerated. More to the point, it feels like a missing piece of my soul has been revived.

Shabbat shalom,

Peggy and Sid