Am I entitled to a severance package?

I got a job today, and held it for a whole three hours.

There was a posting at the dorms bus stop:

"Wanted; Waitress for the Rega Ragua (lit: relaxing moment)
Restaurant. At the entrance to Usufiyya. Contact Chossam."

So I called, because I was curious. I totally didn't expect to be told
"Can you come over right now?"
Um...sure....
So I hopped in a taxi to go to Usufiyya, which is the Arab/Druzi village just down the mountain from Daliyat Al-Karmel, not having any clue where this place was (neither did the taxi driver), but since it was at the entrance to Usufiyya, and Usufiyya is smaller than some malls, we of course found it immediately.

I did not expect to be immediately shown a menu and explained how everything worked, and could I start tomorrow night because I was hired ? Um, no. I have class/prior obligations until 8. (Please, i just wanted information....hours, pay, that kind of thing)

In the end, I would only have made what I could earn off of tips, I would have essentially no weekends off, and he wanted me to work every spare minute.

He was very nice and accomodating (if tips weren't turning out to be enough, he would supplement it with minimum wage, I could bring books and study during down time, etc...), but I was mildly uncomfortable at the prospect of giving up the rest of my weekends for the year.

So I told him that I came from a traditional family, and that my father didn't really want me working, so I would call him, and he would have the last word.

Hah. Double hah.

Like that would ever happen in real i'm-not-trying-to-get-out-of-a-job life.

Regardless, I called Chossam back and told him no luck, the dadsters said no (which actually, he did, but more surprising is that I listened), and that I was really disappointed (which actually, I am, considering how easy it was to find illegal-under-the-table work on the first try), and that my other friends who had his number would soon be calling so they could work, but I simply couldn't.

I've totally just jinxed any chance I ever have of getting any other kind of job.
Crap.
Double crap.

-J

Winter time in Haifa

Lately, it has been getting rather chilly these past few evenings in Haifa. Not a full blown Toronto-October where I have to prepare the Hallowe'en costume to fit over my coat in case of snow, like there has been in past Hallowe'ens, but chilly enough to require a sweatshirt/jacket and closed-toed shoes. As well as extra blankets at night (as opposed to just a sheet or two).

In fact, Eliad, one of our counselors just sent around a note, telling us that if we need, on Monday October 31st from 18:00-20:00,

"Noga (another counselor) will wait for you in our office in Federman with some worm blankets. Come pick one up and who knows, maybe you will find a cute partner who is also cold..."

Worm blankets. You'd think that he did it on purpose, because it's Hallowe'en and all that. But he's just ESL.

Unless he's serious. In which case, I refer you to the line "maybe you will find a cute partner who is also cold..."
...
And in need of infested bedding?

Really, worm blankets?

I'm intrigued...

Shopping pre-Holy Sabbath

Every friday should be like yesterday.
Except not, because the one major thing I hate about Shabbat in this country (among others) is that everyone and their dog are doing their shopping, right when I'm doing my shopping, and just when all 340 of us that are in the store go to the checkout, at the same time of course, that's when a)all the cashregisters will break down b)nobody's credit card will be accepted or c) the cashiers who are actually competent will go off their shift, and I will be stuck behind three other people being served by the new trainee.

New trainees should get Friday's off, for their own sake, because a mutiny was in the air.

It should not take 45 minutes for me to buy a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

Anna, Jessie and I went to the Grand Canyon (apparently the largest mall in the Middle East, but it's got nothing on the Eaton's Centre) yesterday. We stopped at Aunt Shirley's, cause she feeds us, got an invite to dinner for next shabbat, and went on our way. I love my Aunt Shirley. They got their ears pierced and I of course took pictures. That's about when we got stupid and decided that we needed some stuff from the Superpharm.

Note to self: On Fridays, no matter how pressing you think it is, you never need anything from the Superpharm that can't wait until Saturday night.

In case you haven't lived through the Israeli chavaya (lit: experience) that is shopping on Shabbat, let me enlighten you: The Jewish Sabbath goes from sundown Friday night to sundown Saturday night. A good 80-90% of the stores are closed, starting at around 3 pm, and don't reopen until about an hour after the sabbath has opened, or until the next morning on Sunday. Consequentially, Israelis not only do their shopping on Fridays, they seem to do all their shopping on Fridays.

You think you've seen traffic jams? Go shopping Friday early afternoon. Damn.

Lesson learned: None. We're going back next week.

=P
Jess

Having a passport is a wonderful thing

Okay, so now that I have my passport back, I feel totally comfortable about telling everyone about the day "In Which Jess Loses Her Passport and Subsequently Retrieves It By Means of a Heffalump" (à-la- A. A. Milne).

*NB: no heffalumps were harmed in the retrieval of my passport

My Grand Passport Adventure began tuesday night, when I decided, after arranging to meet with friends for a late night movie, that I would miss the tuesday night train back to Haifa from Tel Aviv, and instead take it at 5:44 Wednesday morning (brilliant), in order to be on time for my 8:15 class.

The following is a scene-by-scene recount of the Grand Passport Adventure. It's riveting.

4:45 am. I am woken up by my cellphone alarm clock. I stumble into the bathroom, brush teeth, shower, and get dressed. I finish packing my bag, and call a taxi to the train station

Passport Status: In top pocket of backpack

5:30 am. I pay the taxi driver, show my passport to the security guard, an act which insures that he won't make me spill out the contents of my overpacked backpack, buy my ticket, and get on the train. Until the train arrives in Haifa at 6:45, I listen to my music, and fade in and out of consciousness, because I really only got to bed at 2:30, which is not an amazing thing to do before a 4:45 wakeup.

Passport Status: In the front-right pocket of my jeans

6:45 am: I exit the train station and enter the bus station, after having flashed my passport at security again in order to avoid the aforementioned security check.

Panic-attack foreshadowing: It is quite possible that I mouthed off to the security guard at this point, thus hindering my chances of immediately retrieving my passport later on. I can't remember what I said or what it was in response to, but I'm pretty sure it was snarky. Bad idea.

Passport Status: In the front-right pocket of my jeans

6:55 am: I buy a coffee at the little coffee stand next to the inner-city buses. I drink the coffee and then toss out the coffee cup before boarding the 7 am bus to the university

Panic attack foreshadowing #2 : It is quite possible that when transferring the keys/phone/passport from one hand to the chair in an attempt to get my wallet out from my backpack, i left my passport on the chair.

Panic attack foreshadowing #3: Maybe I did remember to pick my passport back up, but tossing out the coffee cup before boarding the bus ensured that I would be back later to rummage through the trash for the passport.

Passport Status: tra la la la la....

7:25 am: Just as the bus is about to pull into the University, I notice that something is wrong. I frantically patted down all my pockets and checked my backpack. Nothing. I race to my room, dump out my bag, shake out all my clothes and then the bag itself. Nothing. I race back to the University busstop and beg the driver to let me check the bus for the passport (it had not yet left the station). Nothing. This is the point at which I start to cry a little. All the busdrivers get all fatherly and usher me into their little office, offer me a coffee, and get right down to business: Where did I last see the passport? When do I last remember having it? What exactly did I do and where exactly did I go once I entered the bus station after the train? I *heart* Israeli busdrivers. They set about calling the central busstation, questioning all the security guards over the phone, as well as Egged lost-and-found, as well as the coffee shop, as well as "their buddy Adin" to check the trash cans. Eventually, we just decided it would be best for me to go down there for myself and retrace my steps and eventually file a police report and call the consulate, just in case.

Passport Status: *off having a party somewhere in the Egged Hof-Carmel Central bus station*

7:59 am: I call Hebrew-Teacher-Mina to tell her that I won't be in class because I'm in the middle of a heart attack, (she's very understanding), and grab the bus going back down to the CBS. I walked my steps back and forth, and the passport is not with the front gate guard nor the back gate guard, it is not anywhere on the floor or in the trashcans, it is not at the coffee place or in the lost and found. In short, it is gone. I went back to the University to get help at the Overseas office with dealing with this, and we called the American consulate to report it missing and to set up an appointment to get a new one. I pack all my information up in my purse and head down to the police station.

Passport Status: Clearly having more fun than me. Maybe I should get the damn thing neutered. It is for sure watching me from a hidden camera with all my other lost objects, eating popcorn and laughing.
Little bastard.

11 am: I am SO tired, having been up basically for 24 hours, since I only slept for an hour and a half the night before, which qualifies more as a nap as opposed to a sleep. This mental state causes me to miss the street on which the police station is located, so I walked for 20 minutes back up the road trying to find the damn thing.
So you understand, the police station is like Platform 9 and 3/4 from Harry Potter. You can't find it unless you know exactly how to get there and even then, only if you have magical powers. I simply couldn't find it for a good half hour, though I know I was walking in the right direction. I kept going up to people and asking them where the police station was, and their immediate reaction was "are you okay? do you need a ride there? can I get you anything?". Really very sweet.
The police station itself, once I finally freaking got there, was a laugh riot. All the pimps and whores coming in for their conjugal visits, and angry mothers with daughters in tow demanding to see their sons/fathers/cousins/friends/distant acquaintances. Apparently, only one person at a time is allowed up the stairs (to the main part of the station, as opposed to just the reception desk) to visit a person. The first pair that comes (two very pregnant women) accepts this. The next pair shows up while I'm busy filling out the "Lost Objects" form and throw a stink about being separated. The policeman at the desk gave up and told them both to go up. Meanwhile, the very pregnant woman asks, "What about me?". The policeman gave a big sigh and said "ayn li koach"(I have no strength, no patience for this situation) and let her go up, too.
I love this country.
Also, it turns out that the policeman and I are BFF, because after seeing my Toronto address, he asked me if I knew the ashkenazi family that lives in Toronto. I told him that 3/4 of Torontonian Jews were of ashkenazi descent. No no no. He meant "The family who's last name is Ashkenazi", and then named his niece, who happens to be a teacher at my high school.
Small world.

Passport status: *driving me batshit crazy*

5:30 pm: I return to campus, and the sweetheart busdriver tells me "We've been looking everywhere for you; we found the passport, and we're bringing it back here tomorrow morning".

Now, 2 am friday morning: I have a passport! I'm an American citizen again! I'm no longer stateless! I'm no longer illegally in the country! Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyay!!!!!

Fin

Walks are the devil

Yesterday, before shabbat, I bought two little boxes with arab desserts from a kiosk in the mall; a Druzi bakery had set up shop in the Horev centre, and since David told me that I should buy knafeh during Ramadan since it's the best then, and the Druze were selling the knafeh, i bought a box of it and a box of baklawa (not baklava, because there is no 'v' sound in Arabic, y'all). I then proceeded to leave both boxes at my auntie's, because I seem to be leaving everything everywhere (my favorite v-neck teeshirt and my favorite American Apparel sweatshirt are off having a party together, somewhere in the annals of eretz israel. If you know of their whereabouts, please contact me at 052 535 5590. Reward is offered; i have some baklawa left over...).

So today, after doing laundry, I got the bright idea that it would be totally okay to walk over to Aunt Shirley's, pick up the desserts and the three bottles of hairspray from Superpharm that I also left behind (of course), maybe grab a bite to eat, and then go back to the dorms.

It took 1 and a half hours.

What the hell.

I was even offered a tremp (a ride, usually offered by someone picking up hitch-hikers), but my stranger-danger warning went off, so I politely declined. And then I saw the dead dog corpse, just hanging out in front of me, very dead, very squished, very vomit-inducing. Yuckyuckyuckyuck. So i tried to figure out how to cross the street, thereby avoiding having to cross over the corpse, without getting run over by a car. Having failed in that thought process, i just held my nose, closed my eyes, and jumped...and landed far away from the ex-dog, praise be to Allah.

And then walked for a bloody hour and a half.

Finally arrived, exhausted, even though it's a downhill hike all the way (it was just long), couldn't find the hairsprays, so I waited for Savtaleh to get home. She feeds me. We made havdalah, i raced back to the dorms, and thus began my Haifa International Film Festival Adventure

So it's the Haifa International Film Festival Weekend, if you didn't get that from the previous bolded statement. Arielle, Jessie, Jessica, John (who by the way, is the love object of nearly all the girls here. Wouldn't it be funny if he read this? Because I really feel that he's totally oblivious to the entire thing. It's great), Hila, Ilana, Anna and Rebecca and this other girl who i met tonight but i totally forget her name, and I all went down to the Carmel Centre, where all the action is happening. We stood in line for a bit for tickets, then decided we didn't want to pay to sit through a movie if there's a free screening happening in a park (which by the way, is a park with a playground and a bar. A freaking bar. Like, "hey honey, let's let the kids chill on the swings while we have our nooner." This is such a great country), which there was.
There was also this artisan's fair (read: open air market), which we went through, we being me, Jessie, Anna, Rebecca and Arielle. We took our sweet time, stopped at Aroma, which is perhaps the best coffee i've ever had, anywhere, noshed, drank coffee, and chatted.
And then at this park, the one with the playground and the bar in it, they were showing free movies on a huge screen. So we sat through half of Spiderman 2, and really liked it, and we were being the loud obnoxious Anglos who get all the jokes without having to translate from the subtitles and missing the nuances, but it's really quite cold here all of a sudden, and everyone wanted to go home :( . I'll just have to download it.

Acco tomorrow morning with Jessie, Jessica, Anna and Hila, then Tel Aviv until tuesday
-J

Why I am not a vegetarian...

Why I am not a vegetarian:
Because cows suck. They really, really suck.
I spent Wednesday and Thursday at my dad's cousin Seema (and her husband Samy)'s kibbutz, Reshafim, which is just outside Bet She'an. Gorgeous, really very pretty. Hung out with Ayelet, Gilad and Einav, who I haven't seen in about 5 or 6 years, and caught up rather well with them. Seema makes an amazing noodle stirfry.
So thursday night, Einav drove me back as far as Ramat Ishai, and waited with me for the bus to Haifa, where I then switched to a bus for the university.
So here's where the cows come in.

Remember how there are wild cows, that just chill out at the dorm's bus stop? Like, they just come, three of them usually, and hang?

Well, they also poop. Right where one descends from the bus. As in, they come, they poop, they leave. As in, I stepped off the bus and into the aforementioned cow poop.

They deserve to be hamburgers. Every last one of them.

Just finished shabbat dinner with Aunt Shirley, and cause I'm a bad Jew, I'm hopefully going down to the Carmel Centre for coffee and maybe a concert. Tel Aviv on Sunday to Tuesday, so shavua tov (good week) to all, and to all, a cow-free night.

-J

Commies...IN SPACE.....(cue dramatic music) Dum dum dummmmmmm

It's no wonder that the largest population of Chinese ex-pats currently live in Toronto, and not in, say, China.

This is because China sucks at life.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/TECH/space/10/18/china.space.future.ap/index.html, or CNN.com, if you can't check out the hyperlink, reports that China will "land an unmanned probe on the moon by 2010 and eventually send up an orbiting laboratory. China said last year it would launch a moon-orbiting satellite in 2006. The 2-ton Chang'e satellite would orbit at least a year and record three-dimensional images of the lunar surface...."

"around 2007 we will be able to achieve extravehicular activity by our astronauts and they will walk in space," he said at a news conference." (Tang Xianming, director of the China Space Engineering Office. )

...

Well, way to go China. You're only about fifty years too late.

I love how they justify spending billions of dollars on a venture that the US and Russia (even Russia!) already completed while most of the country is starving and can barely afford toilet paper.

Tools.

You make good food, but when it comes to anything vaguely technological, leave it to Japan, or at the very least, Korea.

Why am I not asleep....
I'm getting right on that.

Eilat, WHAT! Also, Ashkelon, but not nearly as ghettofabulous.

I won't say that I spent a lot of money in Eilat.

However, I must point out that any Eilati shopkeepers who were once worried about sending their children to University, aren't any longer.

It is becoming a trend for me to wake up at an ungodly hour to get to wherever it is I need to go, so at 5:30 friday morning, I was up and showering, by 6 I was dressed, breakfast by 6:30, and at the bus stop by 6:50, at the central bus station by 7:30 (with coffee in tow, I might add....becoming a bit of an addict, which is hard to avoid in this country), all in order to catch the 9 am bus to Eilat.

If anything can be said about me, it is that I like to be on time. The army would have freaking loved me. Except I have issues with authority. So there you go.

3 hours into the 6 hour trip, we (the we here would be Arielle and I, seeing as she accompanied me on this Eilat excursion) stopped at a vaguely familiar spot, which turned out to be the same rest stop that I stopped at with the Sar-El group on our way from Tel Aviv to Chatzirim in the Negev. So that was nice and nostalgic for the whole 15 minutes we stopped there.

I would like to pause here and say that anyone who has driven through the Negev desert and who still has not fallen in love with Israel is a complete and total idiot. It's absolutely gorgeous, and really, there's nothing like it. I don't understand how one can live in this country and not love it, even if only for the landscape.

After a few more rest stops, we finally arrived at the Eilat Central bus station, which is spitting distance from the Nova Hotel, where we stayed. As in, you spit, and it gets there before you do. Marvellous. The same Expulsion-Of-Bodily-Fluid-As-A-Measure-Of-Distance-From-Our-Hotel method can also be applied to the mall, the open-air market, the beach, the tourist traps, and the Tayelet (boardwalk), which is also marvellous.

Isn't expulsion a great word? Isn't it too bad that the verb-form is expel? It should really be expulse. Much more colorful.

A day-by-day rehash of Eilat, from Friday to Sunday:

Friday: We arrive in Eilat at 3:30 pm, and proceed to walk to our hotel, the Nova Hotel, the cheapest one to be found on the internet, at only 50$ per person per a night. Canadian.
I should point out that such a low price in such a tourist-y town guarantees the following:
-Snotty service staff: While trying to pay for dinner that evening, I got yelled at by the front desk lady, and ordered around. I am not in the army, do not talk to me as if you are my commander. Especially when my wallet is open. Noted, she did have a terrible day; when we were trying to check in, three different families came down to complain about something wrong with their room/service/shower/love lives. Swear to god. Love lives. This one 50 year old woman started shrieking at the manager about her suite not being prepared in time for her engagement party or something to that effect. Meanwhile, two different men are trying to catch the attention of the same woman who checked me in(who would later treat me as if she were my commanding officer), while she was checking me in.
FUN FACT: There is no such thing as "waiting your turn in line" in Israel. Line? What line? Is that some sort of sick North American joke? Whoever gets her attention first, wins. This game has simple rules. Also, you get to "cut in" (to the line, if such a thing actually existed in this country), if you talk louder and establish the counter as your territory, a feat which can be done by leaning at least 65% of your body over aforementioned counter and waving your hands/paperwork/credit cards/small children and/or dogs around. If the clerk makes eye contact with you, verbally acknowledges you (sneezing or coughing in your general direction counts), turns any part of her body in your direction (include cellphones, purses, guns, metal detector wands, or pens in this criteria), or asks you to please move away, you've won. For the next thirty seconds, anyways, while the other 'players' secretly plot to kill you.
-No shampoo or conditioner in the bathrooms: My hair is crying. Swear to god. Crying.
-Minimal maid service; i get clean towels, but why the hell wasn't my bed made? I hate coming back to an unmade bed. I feel filthy. You know those Tide "body soil" commercials? Exactly like that. And FYI, the only reason I didn't make it myself is because when I put out the "please clean my room" sign, they're supposed to make the freaking bed, too. I don't even ask for a mint on my pillow, just that she actually change the damn sheets and flick them back into place. I've been doing it since I was six years old without getting paid for it, I feel that Housekeeping can do it too.

After settling in to our lovely little room, we went for a walk on the Tayelet, shopped a bit in the open air market, and went back to the hotel for dinner. Shimrit (my Ashkeloni friend from camp) and her boyfriend Golan picked us up, and we all went out to a noisy but quaint little pub/bar on the boardwalk closer to their crazy-big hotel, the Herod. Wow. Crazy, and also big.

Saturday: Arielle and I, having been smart enough to book ahead the night before, went on a glass-bottom boat tour for only 60 shekel. It was so unbelievably cool. This two hour ride took us to the Jordanian border, then across the Red Sea to the Egyptian border, then to Coral Beach where we went below deck to the glass-bottomed portion of the tour and saw the beautiful Coral Reef, along with some fish and a scuba diver, then over to the Dolphinarium, where for a fee one can swim with real live dolphins (there was a mommy and a baby dolphin....awwwwwwwww), and then back to Eilat. I will post pictures eventually. But, wow. Unbelievable. And also cool. We went back to the open air market, then returned to the hotel to swim/sunbathe at the pool, take a nap, shower, and change. We had dinner on the Tayelet, and then met up with Shimrit and Golan again for drinks at the same pub/bar.

I would like to let it be known that I hate Reggae, that it is not an acquired taste, and that I will never enjoy it, no matter how much fun the people around me are pretending to have. It is not fun, it is not music, and it royally sucks. Royally. So note to the quaint little pub/bar: You suck at life, but especially at choice of music.

Sunday: Saw Arielle off at 10, checked out at 11, got picked up by Shimrit and Golan at 12, whereupon we went to the mall to do the rest of the shopping that Shimrit did not previously have a chance to do (pride moment; i did not buy anything on sunday. Except lunch.). At about 4, we drove to Ashkelon, where I spent the next two days with Shimrit, chilling at her house and in her Sukkah.

Ashkelon: Wicked fun, and the houses are beautiful. Monday, Shimrit needed to go to Tel Aviv for a job interview, so I went with her and hung out at the Azrieli mall while waiting for her. Shimrit's credit card got eaten by an ATM machine 15 minutes into meeting up with me, so after grabbing a coffee, we went back to Ashkelon via IsraRail trains, which I *heart*. I *heart* you, Israrail. I had a lovely time with Shimrit's family, and practiced my hebrew a lot because her parents speak minimal English, at best. Tuesday, her cousins came over for lunch in the sukkah, which was delicious (I totally recommend that everyone spend at least one holiday in their lives at the residence of a boisterous Moroccan family. Best. Food. Ever.), we played cards and chatted until nightfall. Had a major Toronto flashback when Shimrit's father brought a "new fruit" to the table. What should it be but....Dragonfruit! So delicous. I didn't know that the chinese community was big enough here to actually get dragonfruit in Beersheva, which is where he got it from, but whatever. For them, it was a major cultural experience, which is nice, and for me, it was really really yummy.

I am back in Haifa now, and at some point, I ought to unpack, but sitting around and not doing anything of importance is much more appealing.

Yallllllllllllah, bye,
J

Jess, Jess, and Jess do Dalyat al Karmel

After hebrew today, i went out with Jessie-Arizona and Jessica-Florida to Dalyat-Al-Karmel, the druze village, which is a fifteen minute bus-ride.

That is, if the bus comes at all

Egged.co.il says that the 022 bus to Dalyat al Karmel is supposed to come at 1:30, 2:30, and 3:30, every day. Only at those three times, and there is no bus on the way back from Dalya to the university. Oh, and by the way, the bus fare is more expensive. By like a dollar, but it's still annoying not to be able to use the bus pass that I've already paid for.
Anyways, we got to the bus stop, which is actually not in the university like the website says, but in fact on the road just outside the university. And we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Because see, we forgot to account for Druzi Standard Time, whereby the bus comes not 5 or 10 minutes, but a full half hour after schedule.
Excellent.

Whatever. We got off the bus, toured around the shuk, tested the patience of one very lovely old woman selling dayyagim (fishermen's pants), none of which suited us, went in to all the little tourist trap-py shops, just for fun and to poke around. After tiring of that, we went to a little restaurant, called the Halabi Brother's restaurant. Here's our bill

what we paid for:
-shishkabob-20 NIS
-Humus plate-15 NIS
-Fanta-5 NIS
-Goldstar beer-10 NIS
Total: 50 NIS

What we were served:
-10 pitas, free
-5 laffas, free
-1 plate of 10 falafel ball, free
-4 plates (count them, 4) of pickles and olives, free. Really big plates. Like, at least 20 pickles in total
-Shishkabob+salad+fries (and he was going to bring us a "bigger plate of fries", for free, before we told him that there was no way we could eat that, too)
-Humus and techina with olive oil
-Soda pop
-Beer
-Water with mint leaves, free.
-3 different kinds of baklawa, free. And we probably could have gotten more if we asked.

The moral of the story is, I'm going to have a big party at some point, and it's going to be at the Misadat Achim Halabi in Dalyat-al-Karmel. And everyone's invited. Date to be determined.

- Jess-Toronto

Yerushalayim Shel Zahav: Jerusalem of Gold. Also, of shopping.

Woke up at an ungodly hour this morning to catch the 7 am bus to the Haifa train station, so I could catch the 7:40 train to Jerusalem. In the past 22 hours, I have been from Tel Aviv University Train Station to Haifa Hof Carmel Train/Central Bus Station station to Haifa University to Horev centre back to Haifa University back to Haifa Hof Carmel Train/Central Bus Station to Jerusalem central bus station...All by 9:30 in the morning, starting at 8 Pm last night. 12 hours of buses and trains, with no more than 6 hours in between any one method of transportation.

Lesson learned: Next time, i'll stay the extra night in Tel Aviv and just take the 1/2 hr bus from there, so that I don't kill myself trying to get everywhere. Because, oh my god. It's just so many levels of not worth the effort.

Except of course the shopping. And seeing the family. But especially the shopping. But especially the Family (which will, as of now, be capitalized, because we sort of are a mafia).

Arielle and I arrived at the Central Bus Station at 9:30, bags packed and desperate to pee, where Na'ava picked us up and escorted us to her apartment. I am now the proud owner of a key to 210 Rachov Yafo, in the case that I ever need to break in to the most remarkably spacious apartment to not have a refrigerator or a stove. I'll steal their valuables, i just won't be able to grab a snack on the way out. But seriously, good job to Na'ava on grabbing that baby; it's simply gorgeous. I'm leaning towards squatting in the kitchen, right where the major appliances would be if her landlord wasn't such a major tel-avivi tool. Like, dude. wtf.

Anyways, from there we dropped off our bags and taxied our way to the Jewish Quarter in the old city. After I yelled at the driver for not dropping us off when the fare was 25 NIS, as in, when I asked him to please לעצור בפינה (stop at the corner), and whereupon he dropped us off a whole 5 minutes later, in the middle of a narrow road where he shouldn't really have been able to stop without everyone dying/honking/ending up generally unhappy, we finally snaked our way through the Armenian quarter to the Cardo; the old Roman Quarter, now the relatively new (as in, in the last few centuries) Jewish quarter.

Woot.

Ari and I grabbed a bagel and some other fun things (soda at 9:45 in the morning rocks my planet. Fanta Orange, all the way. Also, salad on a bagel with humus; it's the new black), I found the place for Jewish Students in Need (of a place to stay for shabbat, some good jewish learning, etc), and decided that we had to go in. I announced to the guy that "I am a jewish student in need!", got information about a job in Israel's hi-tech sector (but in J'lem, hopefully with prospects in Haifa) which needs english speaking students to work for them for part time, got info about grants offered if you go to Jewish "learn-in's" at the Technion (100$ a month; enough to fund my Fanta Orange habit: i swear, I mainline the stuff), got on a list serve and got invited to a weekend in Prague. Wow. A lot of information packed into 10 whole minutes. Very nice.

After the info overload, we popped down to the Cardo, home of the most expensive shopping on the planet, unless you happen to have mad hookups, like I do, and get fire-sale prices on beautiful things, which I did. We had silver bracelets made and engraved at Hadaya(www.oneofakind.co.il), which is where I saw the bitchiest Yeshiva girls on the planet. I actually didn't know that Yeshiva girls could be such obnoxious little brats with ruder mouths than Torontonian japs. These girls are 18; why are they acting like a 12 year old at USDS? Little snots; where is God and why isn't he smiting anyone these days? We walked up and down the shops, visited Ronit at Chaya, oohed and aahed over the pretty things (well, and bought them, too. I can't just be expected to ooh and aah at Ronit's) . We went in and out of the arab quarter, which actually is a safe thing to do, according to my security advisor who moonlights as my father's cousin, because it was the first night of Ramadan, a month long celebration. Apparently, the last time some village guy tried to make trouble, the shopkeepers surrounded him, beat him to a pulp, and sent him back to his mother. Since then, it's been quiet and trouble free. Good to know.

After picking up our silver bracelets, we walked for 10 minutes down to Ben Yehuda street where every single overseas student in Jerusalem likes to congregate before Shabbat. I don't think any Israelis actually live anywhere near Ben Yehuda Street. Ari and I played Spot-the-American/Canadian earlier in the morning ( i didn't know how easy it was ), but the game goes on overload once you get down to BYS.

Weird event of the day: While about to get in the shower, I received a phone call....from sketchy-train-guy-Shai! Craziness. I didn't think people actually did that. Too funny.

Oh Jerusalem. If I forget thee, then I can forget about eating well ever again, because can David ever cook...

Shana Tova

After a relaxing weekend in Tel Aviv, if you can call anything related to Tel Aviv relaxing, and not going to metula for the day, after all, I packed up my bag and went to Aunt Shirley's for Rosh Hashana.

Oh. My. God.

I don't think I've ever eaten so much food in my entire life. I checked, and it seems that I've managed to gain 5 pounds in 3 days, which should tide me over until yom kippur. Spent a lovely 3 days with all the israeli cousins:

Monday: Went to safta's at 4 in the afternoon with Arielle. Did online crossword puzzles with Yael, Na'ava, Michal, Joshie, and Joshie's friend Miriam until Josh, David and Safta went to shul. The Orens (Nancy, Itai, Assaf and Amir) arrived in time for dinner (we were all very proud). There was enough food to feed a small african country for a week, and I have now learned how to play Yaniv, my new favorite card game. I regret to say that I still manage to lose terribly at it. Regardless, it is enjoyable. Michal, Assaf, Miriam, Itai and I went out to a bar until 2, and then Michal and I crawled upstairs to Safta's neighbor's apartment, where they had offered to put up the two of us for the night. They have great beds there.

Tuesday: Michal and I woke up in time to get to shul for the shofar blowing, but following along in the machzor was no fun, especially whenever I tried to peek over at my neighbor's machzor to see where we were, she did this whole show of covering it up. Because apparently, there's some exclusivity when it comes to god. There are words for this kind of person, but none of them are polite enough to publish before Yom Kippur. The kibbutznikim arrived for lunch and we had a wild afternoon with Seema, Samy, Einav, Ayelet, Gilad, and Samy's nephew Yigal. More food ensued, as did snacks and finally dinner, after which Michal and I went over to Nancy's to watch Constantine, which has it's merits, but very few. Actually, it's an okay movie, but the plot holes could kill a cow (speaking of which, I saw yet another wild cow in the parking lot today, just chilling and doing it's cow thing...). Michal and I returned to the neighbor for one more night.

Wednesday: Was pleasantly awoken at noon by Yael throwing open the door and saying (rather, shrieking) "Jessie and Michal! It's noon! Wakeup! It's time for lunch!"
That child needs to go to a reeducation camp... While wednesday was replete with food and other wonderful things, it was a relaxing nap/reading/walking day. In fact, on the walk with Naava, Joshie and Yael, Joshie and I found our dream house across the street from Safta: Tzion 8 is a dilapidated condemned little house that will soon become an apartment complex, but once upon a time it was beautiful. It's an old arab house, with inlaid tile flooring, an enormous yard/garden, and huge rooms, all of which can be determined by going into the yard and peering in the windows. Joshie wants to move in with his unit, which is looking for an apartment in the haifa area, but I want to move in and live forever. It's absolutely gorgeous. Once you rake out all the used hypodermic needles and hook up the water and electricity. Na'ava and I will at some point go on a house hunt in the old cities to find one just like it, because it's the perfect place to set up our commune.

Thursday: Since I had nothing to do after the holiday, I hopped on a train wednesday night to Tel Aviv. There I met my seat mate, Shai, who is an aspiring actor who can't take no for an answer when it comes to telephone numbers, so I gave him mine and then made him call it, so that way I have his number and can effectively screen his calls. As in not accept them. Poor Shai. But I will never again take the #@^$ing train after the holiday: it was a line up of 300 people to get into the station, which only opens 10 mintues before the first train gets in, and if you don't have a ticket already, be prepared to fight for a spot in line in front of the teller. And then to fight for a seat on the train that isn't on the floor: once again, this is not Russia; I will not pay for a ticket and then not sit in a seat. Luckily (or not, depending on your interpretation), I sat across from Shai and across the aisle from six noisy backpackers, one of which also sat with Shai and I...until he got up and thirty seconds later, this little old lady scooted in and snagged his seat...just as he was about to sit back down.
Hysterical. I love this country.
Thursday (which is today), I went with Yair to Shuk Hapishpushim (Jaffa Flea Market, where I spent nothing but to which i will return in the near future) and the beach for the day. Came back with minutes to spare before going out with Arielle, Sasha from New Orleans (actually, one of maybe 50 students who left N.O to go to school in Israel, courtesy of the Jewish Agency, because her school is currently under water...), and Marjan from Holland.

Sweet, sweet coffee. You give me the strength to clean up my rat-hole of a bedroom....bless your caffeinated little heart..

lilah tov, לילה טוב.
Jess