Catching up ...

Yes, it's been a while. A couple of whirlwind weeks. Besides being very busy with Morrie, we had internet problems for the last 5 days and I was not able to post. This isn't a complete update on our recent activities ... so stay tuned for more, hopefully this week.

My brother-in-law Morrie arrived on Sunday, February 22. When we went to the airport to pick him up, a group of Sar-El volunteers was in the arrival lounge getting their orientation. It was nice to see a fairly large group about to embark on a great working vacation, as we've done over the past few years. I said hello to Pam, the volunteer coordinator, and promised that we would be back next year.

Morrie was in great shape after his trans-Atlantic flight, so we took a long walk and kept him awake until 8PM when he felt he could expect to sleep thru the night. We spent the next couple of days touring Jerusalem with him. In fact, this was our first time at the Wall. Hard to believe we've been in Israel for 3 weeks and hadn't been there yet. It's always an emotional experience. The Wall is so powerful all by itself, but when you add the human dimension, so many people of all religions and backgrounds, it's overwhelming.

On Thursday we left for a week trip around the country.

Our first stop was Dori's base. She's a drill instructor, and the soldiers had a swearing-in ceremony that we were able to attend. It was a very impressive afternoon, notwithstanding the difficulty we had getting onto the base. We had given Dori our names, passport and vehicle license numbers, and we were supposedly on the guest list. Our first hurdle was when we were told we were at the wrong entrance to the base. When we got to the right entrance the guard with the list couldn't find our names. I called Dori, who spoke to the guard, who told her to have her CO call him to get this sorted out. Meanwhile we were to park and wait. About 30 seconds later another soldier came over to the car, asked if we were attending the ceremony, and waived us in. Go figure.

The afternoon was enlightening. It began with a presentation to the parents of the soldiers by the base commander about the transition from civilian to army life, the next training phase, and the relocation of the base to a new facility in the Negev which is being carried out over the next year or so. He was very sincere and approachable, taking questions from anxious parents, and giving out his personal cell phone for anyone who wanted to reach him at any time.

Then on to the swearing-in ceremony itself, which took place on a parade ground. The soldiers who do their basic training at this base are not the best and the brightest. They come from some rough backgrounds - low on the socio-economic totem pole, discipline problems, lack of motivation, etc. In fact, out of the 110 inductees, 8 were in the brig because of various infractions and have to repeat basic training. But for the soldiers who completed the course (and their families), the ceremony was very moving.

We spent some time after the ceremony with Dori. She introduced us to her CO and her fellow drill instructors and we saw her office. She wouldn't bring us to her quarters, so I can only guess as to what kind of shape her room is in. Everyone we met was cordial and gracious, and it was a pleasure to see how they all interacted. We were especially pleased to see how well Dori fits in.

We left the army base at 5PM, heading for the Galilee. It should have been a two hour ride, but somehow or other we took a wrong turn, got caught up in Tel Aviv traffic (which is in a perpetual state of rush hour), got lost in a neighborhood somewhere around Herzlia where I asked directions and the guy had to draw me a map. We finally made it to Tiberias where in desperation we stopped at a hotel so we could hire a taxi and follow him to the kibbutz where we were staying, only to find out that A) Tiberias doesn't have a lot of taxis, and B) being a Thursday night, which is a big event/wedding/ party night, they all get chartered. The doorman was very nice about attempting to help and he called a cab-driver friend of his who said he would be able to get to the hotel in 15 minutes. And do the job for 100 shekels. Fine. But 10 minutes later the driver called and said he was still busy driving people who had reserved him. The doorman tried another driver but no luck. He (the doorman) kept telling me how easy it was to find the kibbutz, showed it to me on the map, but after all the wrong turns we had already taken I was not willing to go out in the countryside. He kept assuring me it was a no-brainer and we couldn't get lost. Since it was already 10PM, we were tired, frustrated, hungry and upset, so we decided to go for it. My other concern was that we wouldn't be able to get on the kibbutz, since they all have locked gates and don't stay open 24 hours like a hotel does. Well, we did manage to find the kibbutz and the gate was manned by a guard who gave us directions to the office. We finally found the office but it was dark. So back we went to the gate and the guard called the person who was in charge of the hotel operation who assured me that our keys were in envelopes on the door of the office. And they were. Then it was only a matter of finding the location of the rooms in the dark. But we finally made it. It was probably the worst day of our lives. The 2 hour drive took over five. It felt like Gilligan's Island in a car.

The next day was a lot better. We went on a tiyul (a day trip) to a beautiful hiking area called the Hexagonal Pools. A lovely 2 kilometer hike to the pools and back. But the hike was vertical. Not terribly steep or challenging, but not the same as walking on a flat surface.

We did another day trip to Rosh Pina on the Lebanese border and Akko on the Mediterranean coast.

We've stayed at kibbutz hotels in the past and they have all been very nice. Not fancy, but very comfortable. This one, Shaar Hagolan, was a notch down. Maybe two. But after staying for 3 nights I had a realization. This was our first time staying at a kibbutz hotel that was a genuine kibbutz experience. We ate in the same dining room with the kibbutzniks, not in a separate dining room just for guests. It felt authentic. And the staff was very nice. I would stay there again.

The next stop on our trip was the Dead Sea, a place we never tire of. We stayed in the newly-named David Hotel, which is the fourth iteration of what used to be the Hyatt. They've put a lot of money into renovations, but still have a way to go. But it's greatly improved since the last time we stayed there, and the spa is still fabulous.

The following day we continued to Eilat, which is a world apart.

More to come ...

Snow ... snow ... snow

Jerusalem, Thursday, February 19 ...

Like the other good citizens of Jerusalem, we are hunkered down. But the much ballyhooed snow hasn't materialized, and unless something drastic happens in the next few hours, all the preparations will have been for naught. After last year's snow, which left this city paralyzed for 5 days, someone figured out that having a snow plan might be a good idea. It was implemented on Wednesday. Schools closed at noon Thursday, the powers-that-be begged people to stay indoors, some bus schedules were changed, and the 2 major highways leading into Jerusalem were going to be closed. Snow plows (actually bulldozers because it doesn't snow enough in this country to warrant maintaining a fleet of actual snow plows) were poised and ready. As can be expected, everyone ran to the grocery stores and bought every litre of milk and every loaf of bread they could carry.

While taking a dinner break from writing the above we heard thunder. I looked out the window and indeed we have snow. Maybe an inch  - hardly the deluge that was forecast. Thunder is unusual; it doesn't normally accompany snowstorms. But the streets are empty and no tire tracks, so people really did do what they were asked and stayed home.

It was a remarkably quiet week for us. The only evening activity was on Monday, when Ì went to my first ever professional basketball game in Israel. Games, actually. There were two, for the semi-finals. The reason for going was my hairdresser's future son-in-law plays for Maccabi Haifa (#21), and he said I should introduce myself if I come to a game. Of course I took Nir, whose life, like Ari's many years ago, is consumed by hoops. I got close during the shoot-around before the game, but he couldn't hear me yell his name (I should have had Sid with me), and security was very uncompromising about getting his attention. But he played well - in fact he was the high scorer till he fouled out in the final minutes. The game went into overtime and Haifa lost by a point. I should add that the first game was between Jerusalem and Eilat, and Jerusalem won by 30 points. It took 3 days to recover my hearing, as the video shows.

It's now Friday morning. I promise I will never again badmouth the weather people. It really did snow overnight. About 8 inches. It's beautiful and quiet. No cars or pedestrians. Sid went to the grocery store this morning. He was surprised that there was still milk and bread on the shelves. There must have been a delivery last night before it started snowing. It's supposed to continue on and off during the day, change to rain sometime tomorrow, and then get warmer. By Monday it should all be just a memory. The photos below were taken from our living room. The one on the bottom is something you don't see every day - a snow-covered cactus.

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem.

Technology 2, Peggy 0

Life is full of little frustrations. One of mine is technology, in all its forms. I'm a machineophobe, and when it comes to figuring out what all those baffling little symbols mean, I'm hopeless. I had my fill of techno-trauma this week. Between our washing machine and the oven, I was defeated.

The oven is nothing but symbols, and no Rosetta Stone instruction book to decipher them. I just keep pushing buttons until I feel the oven get hot, which isn't the best way to cook. I ruined a couple of good steaks that way. For sure, baking is out. I just hope the chicken I'm making for tonight's dinner will cook through without burning on the outside.

But that's nothing in comparison to the washing machine, which in this case is also a dryer. It's a European invention, designed for the small apartments typical in both Europe and here. This one has an instruction book, which helps only a little. When the guy who gave us the apartment orientation said a cycle takes 9 hours I thought he didn't know what he was talking about. Turns out he wasn't far off. The first load I did took 6. The second was a bit faster because I changed the setting to a 30 minute wash and 3 hour dry. Even after the 3 hours the laundry came out slightly damp. I put in a load at 9 this morning. I set it for a 40 minute wash. It's now 145PM and still washing. Something is clearly amiss. I called the fix-it guy who said it will take 3 more hours, don't worry, and if it doesn't finish by candle-lighting time just disconnect it from the electricity and he'd come over on Sunday to look at it. Fortunately there's nothing in the machine that we'll need before Sunday.

These were the low points of an otherwise stellar week.

Jerusalem is an intellectual moveable feast. The array of educational and entertainment programming is second to none. There's my Monday morning class (3 lectures, each 45 minutes, on the Book of Ezra, Torah (the Bible), and a guest lecturer on a subject of his/her choice, usually topical). On Tuesday night I went to the first of a 4 part lecture series on Megillat Esther, timed for the upcoming holiday of Purim. Each lecturer interprets the Purim story through a different lens. This week's talk was given by a professor from Bar Ilan University, who examined the relationship between King Ahashveros and Haman. He made a very cogent point that they were both manipulative in a very Middle Eastern politics way. Wednesday we went to one of our favorite institutions in Jerusalem - Pardes - for the second of a 3-part series on tools that are used in Biblical exegesis. I think the highlight for this week was a program we attended last night - a presentation by Khaled Abu Toameh - appropriately entitled Meet the Press. Khaled in an Israeli Muslim Jerusalemite, a highly respected journalist, and an excellent speaker. He talked about the so-called peace process and why it's guaranteed to fail, the role of the media in perpetuating the so-called narrative, the cluelessness of the State Department, EU and the international press, the thread of anti-semitism that runs thru it all, and some of the ways the Israeli government needs to work better with its Israeli-Arab citizens. Fascinating.

And we haven't even been to any of the museums yet ... that will be next week.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem.

Weekend with Dori

Weekend is a relative term in Israel. Not everyone is fortunate enough to work a five day week, and kids attend school 6 days. For a lot of people the weekend is only a day and a half. We spent ours with Dori at her kibbutz.

When Dori came to Israel she did so with a group of 25 kids, mostly from the midwest, for the purpose of joining the army. They are in a category known as "lone soldiers", which is self-explanatory. But there's more to it than that, and more about that later.

The drive to Afula was a quick 90 minutes. There's a relatively new highway that bisects most of the country on a north-south axis, and it cuts commute times significantly. We picked up Dori and another soldier from her group at the bus station, stopped to grab a take-away falafel, and headed to the kibbutz that is their permanent address while they are in the army. Kibbutz Ein Dor was the first kibbutz founded after Israel became a state in May, 1948. The founders were from Europe, the US and South America.

Big changes have taken place in the kibbutz world. They all have an industrial component in addition to agriculture - light industry, manufacturing, tourism, some have even gotten into assisted living. In the last decade or so they have become less communal. There is some private ownership, meals aren't strictly commensal, and the kids live with the parents rather than in children's quarters. What's interesting about Ein Dor is they have a housing development. They allocated a few acres for private building. Dori's host family, who are not members of the kibbutz, live in one such house.

We stayed in the small guest accommodation at the kibbutz - small but larger than the apartment we had last year - consisting of a bedroom with ensuite bathroom and living room/dining room/kitchen. All this for only 150 shekels (about $39 at today's exchange rate) a night. Actually it was quite comfortable; not luxurious by any means, but much nicer than the creepy hotel we stayed in last year. 

Dori's group gets together every Friday at 6PM to talk about their week. We were flattered that she asked us to join them. What surprised us was they began by saying the traditional Friday night blessings for wine and bread - kiddush and hamotzie - something I never thought would happen on a Shomer Hatzair (socialist-Zionist) kibbutz. Then everyone took a turn talking about the high and low points of their week. That's when one particular aspect of being a lone soldier became much clearer. These 25 kids have left their homes, families and friends to come to Israel and have one of the most intense experiences a person can have. Not an easy undertaking. But to do it without a support structure makes it even more challenging. This is a country that is very family-centric, and one of the things about being in the army that makes it easier on both the soldiers and their families is the fact that they get frequent leave. The ability to go home for a home-cooked meal, to be with family and friends, to have that kind of support is very important. Lone soldiers don't have that luxury. So the kibbutz and the members of the group become the family. For them it was group therapy. For us it was a window on their world.

Then it was off to dinner. Dori's host family - Dana and Michael, their 3 delightful kids and her parents - couldn't be nicer. They embrace Dori as one of their own. Dana is a great cook and put on an amazing spread. It was a lovely evening.

Dori let us know she doesn't get up early on Saturday. She has to make up for the average 4 hours a night sleep she gets on the base. We agreed that noon would be a reasonable start time. Sid and I don't sleep in, so we got up and took a walk around the kibbutz. When Dori got up we all went to a "hoummousiya" - a hoummous restaurant run by one of the members (private enterprise at work), and then went on a short hike. The weather was sunny and warm with barely a cloud in the sky. In other words ... perfect.

For dinner we went to Tiberias to one of our favorite restaurants - Decks. Sort of. Decks is literally a deck with an enclosure on the shore of the Galilee. During the winter they dismantle the enclosure and share space with the Chinese restaurant next door, which isn't one of my favorites. But a combination of a curtailed Decks menu and the fact that the one thing that keeps me coming back to Decks (duck breast) wasn't available, we ordered off the Chinese menu and the the food was excellent. Dori's boyfriend Ron joined us. He's a kibbutznik, the grandson of one of the founders, currently serving in an elite unit of the paratroopers. Good-looking, but even more important, a very nice young man.

We offered to drive Dori back to her base on Sunday morning but she wouldn't let us. She didn't want to take us out of our way, particularly since we couldn't go on the base with her. (That will have to wait till later this month.) She was very grateful, at 7AM, to have us drive her and another soldier to the bus station in Afula.

It was a great weekend.

A Busy First Week

So here it is, Thursday. A full and action packed week has gone by.

We had a quiet first Shabbat. Between residual jet lag and just being overwhelmed at being here, all we wanted was to be home alone.

There is a quality to Jerusalem on a Friday afternoon. I've written about and experienced this countless times, and it never gets old. Jerusalem is overcrowded. Too many cars and buses on the streets, too many people and not enough sidewalks. It's very busy and noisy. But on Friday afternoons everything glides to a halt, as people close their stores and businesses, go home and prepare for Shabbat. It's utterly magical and it doesn't occur anywhere else on the planet.

The week revs up again on Saturday night. We went to a program at one of the nearby synagogues; the topic was Nahal Haredi, a niche social experiment that has been very successful. Without going into details, which would be way too time-consuming, Nahal Haredi is an ultra-Orthodox army unit. The soldiers are assigned very hazardous duty - going after terrorists where they live. Because of their background, many of these soldiers have special difficulties entering civilian society after they are discharged from the army. There is a support organization that assists them with the re-entry process, and they have a website (who doesn't?) nahalharedi.org. They do very important work and they are worth supporting.

Sunday we walked over to Machane Yehuda - it's hard to stay away. Even tho we didn't need to do much shopping, there are things you can get at the "shuk" (market) that are just better than any grocery store.

Monday it was really time to get down to business. I had my 3-hour womens' class, and it was as if I had never left. Then it was off to Krav Maga, with the teacher I took private lessons with last year. It was great to be back and it's a wonderful class - 3 religious men and me. Because this country never ceases to surprise, one is Haredi (see above and google "Haredi"). We train outside, in the rose garden next to the Knesset, rain or shine. The weather this week has been exceptional, and training outdoors gives a sense of realism that I don't get in the ring when I train at home. And that's the point. Moshe, the instructor, is very very good at what he does. And I ached when I got home.

Tuesday we had to get ready to move, so we repacked and prepared to say goodbye to the palace we lived in for the first week of our visit.

Wednesday was another big day. I met Batsheva at 9AM for a ceramics class. I'm not the craft type, and not at all creative. I dabble in beading, and that's about it. Batsheva, on the other hand, can do anything. I tried to convince her that this might not be my thing, but she said just try it and besides it gives us time to be together. Well, it turns out it's not just a ceramics class. It's 3 different classes - 2 hours each - beading, ceramics and vegetable carving. I learned new beading techniques, which was fun. But the big surprise was the ceramics. I started working on a horse head, and despite my aversion to getting my hands dirty, it was a lot of fun. Regrettably I could't stay for the vegetable carving because we had to change apartments.

So I rushed home to vacate apartment # 1 and move to apartment # 2. The new place is only about 5 minutes from the old one, and it's quite nice. A big kitchen that opens to a living/dining room. Two very good size bedrooms, a very large bathroom with 2 sinks and something I've heard of but have never actually seen - a washer/dryer that's a single machine. We haven't tried it yet, but no matter what it sure beats hand laundry. We hired a taxi to move our luggage, and spent the next hour or so unpacking and getting settled.

Then it was off to my Israeli daughter Yafit's birthday party at a new Georgian (as in Russia) restaurant. We didn't get home till after midnight.

And today was an intensive (2 hour) krav maga class, home to shower, and off to see my grandson Nir play basketball.

Tomorrow we go to Dori's kibbutz for Shabbat.

More next week..................

Phones, Shoes, Shabbat

No trip to Israel would be complete without a bit of aggravation. Mine came earlier than expected - yesterday, when I attempted to re-connect my cell phone.

When we left Israel a year ago I opted to freeze my number by paying the nominal rate of 10 shekels per month. According the the contract I could re-activate the account at any time. Well, I got an email from the phone company a couple of months ago; some kind of issue with my credit card came up. I made several attempts to work this out on the website, but was unable to get into my account. No big deal, I thought, I could just as easily take care of this in person. HA! I should have known better.

It all started when I called customer service Wednesday morning. They may cut off your account, but you can still call customer service from the cell phone. I followed their instructions that if you didn't want to wait on hold you could leave a message for someone to call you back. I'm still waiting. But after having lunch with Batsheva on Wednesday, we walked around downtown and stumbled on a phone store that represents my carrier, Golan Telecom. I walked in and explained my situation, only to be told that if I couldn't get into the account on the website there was nothing they could do to help. They did offer to sell me a new SIM card, with a new number, which defeated the whole purpose of the 10 shekels per month for the privilege of keeping the number I've had for the past umpteen years. In that case they said I should call customer service. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Undaunted, I called customer service yesterday morning and actually got a live person. The problem was the credit card they had on my account doesn't match my actual card. I even tried a previous card, which is no longer active, thinking maybe when I opened the account I initially used the old card. Nothing worked. So I decided to bite the bullet and go for the new number.

Since we needed to go to a pharmacy yesterday, and the store where I got my service last year were both in the Mamila Mall, off we went. Unfortunately the Golan rep hadn't quite arrived yet - he was expected in a couple of hours, which in this country is merely a suggestion. Still undaunted, we walked back to the store where I had been the day before, only to be told that they were out of SIM cards and didn't know what time the new supply would be delivered. They suggested we try the shop at the Central Bus Station. So we hopped on the light rail to the CBS, went in and found by far the nicest Golan rep EVER. He walked me thru the various plans, I picked the one I wanted, he started to do the transaction ... and asked for my passport. Well, I didn't have my passport on me. I stopped carrying it with me years ago, when you no longer needed one to change money. I tried giving him my driver's license, but that wasn't good enough. It was either a passport or identity card or no go. I almost cried. The run-around, the frustration, and the onset of jet lag were getting to me.

There is a happy ending. This morning, after doing our shopping for Shabbat, we went back to the phone store in the CBS and got everything taken care of. I even have a number that can be dialed from the US (312-940-4491), just in case anyone out there can't handle the thought of not hearing our voices for the next 2 months. Just please remember that we are 8 hours ahead of you.

So what does this have to do with shoes? First of all, I'm not sure how many size 15 shoes anyone has ever seen. The photo below illustrates just how big they are, when compared with my size 8.

My friend Bevie, on behalf of her great-nephew, asked me to bring a pair of shoes for him. Even if he could find his size in Israel the shoes are frightfully expensive. I was happy to oblige. I was going to give Bevie the shoes when I see her on Monday (we take a class together). But it turned out that the boy's father was available to pick them up and he came by to get them this morning.

What does this have to do with phones? The connection is Shabbat, which is the completion of creation. The two tasks I had to accomplish - getting my phone to work and delivering these gargantuan shoes - are done. And with candle lighting in about 15 minutes, my week's work is complete. Hardly compares to creating the universe, but now I can rest.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem.

Chesed Shel Emet

930PM. Thankfully no jet lag (or maybe it just hasn't hit yet). Setting my watch to Israel time helped, as did the late flight (9PM) out of Chicago.

We got to Jerusalem at 1130PM last night. Our flight left London an hour late, but passport control was a breeze and our luggage was among the first bags on the carousel. We got a sherut (shared taxi) immediately, and in spite of a couple of construction delays and an accident that caused a gapers' block we got to Jerusalem in 40 minutes. This apartment is a big improvement over the one we had last year, which could easily fit into this one's kitchen with space left over. The owner very kindly left us some food - a couple of rolls, cheese, some fruit, and the mandatory tomato and cucumber. We were very thankful because we were hungry and none of the nearby stores or cafes were open. By the time we ate and got the basic necessities out of our suitcases it was after 1AM. I slept well till 8; Sid didn't.

We had a leisurely morning, just trying to get our bearings in this enormous apartment with plenty of storage and closet space, and the ultimate kosher kitchen with not two but three sinks. The owner came over to give us an orientation; I had to take notes.

I then called Batsheva who happened to be in a ceramics class (her one day a week off from her high stress job) near downtown with her friend Clara, so we met for lunch in a wonderful Yemenite restaurant. I had red kubeh soup which was amazing. I had to cut our time short because Dori was on her way to stay overnight with us on a 24 hour leave.

It sort of takes your breath away when you open the door and your almost 20 year old soldier/granddaughter walks in.This was the first time we saw her in uniform. The only thing missing was a weapon, and when she told me she doesn't take it when she leaves the base I was not happy. I prefer that she be armed when she travels around by public transportation, but the army doesn't allow it, and I haven't yet figured a way to overrule the army. But I'm working on it.

We went out for dinner at Roza's, one of the many eclectic restaurants on Emek Refaim, Jerusalem's restaurant row. It's such a pleasure to talk to her about what she does as a drill instructor, her soldiers, commanders, life in the army ... and her boyfriend. She has learned every bit of army slang and all the acronyms, speaks Hebrew beautifully, and her English now has a very slight intonation. I get the sense that she is very grounded, centered, balanced and has her priorities right. We are so proud of her. Not sure when we will see her next; it depends on when she can get time off because she gets a new class of recruits in a few days.

About the title of this post: Chesed shel emet is a genuine act of kindness done for its own sake, which can never be repaid. Readers of this blog may recall that last year I attended a funeral. The deceased was Clara's husband. Today at lunch Clara told me how touched she and her daughters were that I was there and how my words of condolence meant so much. A person does good in this world when a small act of kindness still comforts the mourners a year later.

Lilah tov (good night) from Jerusalem.