crafts for sale - Liberty Bell Park - Jerusalem
Friday, October 13, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Hiking in the Carmel Mountains
There were many things going on in Jerusalem yesterday such as the Jerusalem March, which my son likes to attend because the marching Evangelical Christians who love Israel and the Jews dish out candies and souvenirs from their countries to the children, who line the sidewalks, more to get the goodies than for the reciprocal joy of seeing the marchers in their kitchy biblical or interesting native costumes.
But I decided to go hiking instead and get out of the soon-to-be-crowded city. It was organized by an English speaking group called ESRA (English Speaking Residents Association). The hike was classified as being "moderate" but I'm always nervous about heights and those extremely narrow and seemingly dangerous hiking paths that one slip off can land you down a cliff. And there are no railings to hang onto. What is moderate for some people can be awfully difficult for others. As the bus picked up more passengers from Raanana, Hadera, Netanya, I noticed most were older than me - in their 50's and 60's - and some even in their early 70s. I no longer felt frightened of the "moderacy" of the hike and figured it HAS to be on the easy side for these people.
I was quite wrong. These people outpaced me for most of the hike, as I lagged behind among the 1/3 lagging behind. We continuously climbed over rocks to get up the mountain in Wadi Bustan, dodging branches overhead and thorns on our sides. I felt the Fall season as I tread on brown leaves beneath my feet. The Fall season was something I always missed (however briefly) from Canada. I missed walking on these giant fallen multicolored maple leaves. These leaves weren't maple leaves - I think they were mostly acorn leaves, as there were an abundance of acorn and carob trees on our paths. At the end the path was steep and narrow I quipped that only an anti-semite could have drawn up these JNF (Jerusalem National Forest) trails. Three hours later we were on top of the mountain, having our lunch, me looking longingly at the luxurious Carmel Forest Spa across from us. Man - what would I give for a nice dip in a jacuzzi. It was hot and we were all sweaty. The view of the sea was magnificent from the summit and I felt my feet giving way, but fortunately for me others did too. The guide wanted to go another two hours. We had already hiked five. We asked him for a shorter route. That would take an hour. The way down the mountain was more pleasant and I was jealous at these sixty-something men whizzing by me effortlessly. The guide told us a story of Beit Oren kibbutz which loomed high in the hills above us. In 1947 they assisted in getting Jewish detainees out of the British Atlit prison camp on the coast. Hundreds of them escaped, some hiding within Beit Oren.
Later that evening I finally showed up at my door and my eyes were terribly bloodshot. My teen kids danced around me excitedly hugging and kissing me and laughing - "Mommy's smoked a joint! Mommy's smoked a joint! YAYYYY!!!" that I thought if I had taken out an ounce of weed out of my backpack, nothing would elate them more. But I had no such goodies for them or for myself for that matter.
Whatever happened to getting excited over going out to eat at Burger King?
Teens.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Looking back, looking ahead
Looking back on the year that was - well, we've come a long ways. A year ago, I had no idea that my eldest daughter would have found her soul mate and get married. And my ex-criminal, whom I'll have to rename - perhaps the Reformed One - is now home, instead of at her reformatory for teens at risk, thanks to a private lawyer we hired. The Complainer found a job waitressing at one of Jerusalem's swankier hotels - Condoleeza Rice stayed there. So she's hardly at home to complain about anything, having to work even on the Jewish holidays. My Son, who is not yet 15, has hairs growing on his chin, and it's really amusing. He asked me not to blog about it, but he never reads my blog because it's in English. None of his friends will read it either, so there. But the hairs growing on his chin are funny because he strikes me as still being a kid. He likes his cartoons, and computer games and screams at his sister when she sings loudly. He's physically turning into a man, but it's hard for me to let that sink in. So he actually shaved 2 weeks ago, but he needs another shave for his 6 hairs growing on his chin.
And thankfully, I have off work this week for the Succot holiday. There's so much going on that it's mind boggling. It is so hard for me to pick and choose. Money is a bit scarce which depresses me during holidays, but I'm going to try not to let it bother me too much. This is, after all, a holiday of joy. And I'm going to make the best of it.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Why should have the chicken crossed the road..
I was having a very unholy argument inside the Holy Bagels store in Jerusalem this morning. I see a sparse selection of bagels, and it's only 9:00 am. The Yom Kippur fast begins at 5:00 pm this afternoon and American ex-pats like their bagels right after the fast.
"I'm sorry" explained the salesgirl behind the counter. "You can't order 12. There's none left. But we do have more at our other store at the central bus station."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not going there. I travelled all the way from Maaleh Adumim for these bagels."
Another sales guy intercepted.
"People placed orders for bagels already last week, and we have to take care of those."
"Aren't you making any more? It's only 9:00 am"
Most places will close around 1:00 pm. Even the local television and radio stations only broadcast until 1:30 pm. Then the nation closes for a pre-fast festive dinner and a 25 hour fast. You can't miss Yom Kippur here - not like I did years ago, as a secular, jet-setting New Yorker, sitting in a Chinese restaurant with a friend from England.
"Do you know what day it is today?" she asked.
"No. What?"
"It's Yom Kippur Eve" she told me with a slightly guilty look. I gave her a slightly guilty look back and then we continued to dig into our delicous moo shoo pork dish.
But getting back to bagels, I wasn't gonna budge from my spot. Another American guy budded in, almost getting 6 bagels, while they were still trying to decide how many to give me.
Finally, an announcement was made - more bagels coming in 1/2 hour. I took my dozen plus 2 freebies and left.
Going back to my car, looking at the sidewalk, I saw a pair of familiar feet, which when I looked up, I saw they belonged to my married daughter who just bumped into Hubby. We all decided to go and do Kaporos (Atonement)together in the shuk, using real chickens. We hadn't done it this way in 11 years, since coming to Israel, using money instead, but the chickens seem to be the real deal.
I remember 2 years ago, seeing some animal rights protesters yelling at people going to do Kaporos, prompting a slew of policemen at the site from then on.
I thought - I really like this tradition, but if I would think about it from an animal rights perspective, it's quite horrifying actually.
Going into the market, the stench was quite strong. A guy carrying a crate of already slaughtered chickens moved passed us, their blood covering their white feathers. I guess no one here is frightened of bird flu.
Hubby went first. He said a paragraph three times calling on angels and that this chicken will go to its death instead of him. Then he gave it to some guy who slit its throat and put it into a funnel for the blood to drain. I saw some teens with good cameras photographing the gory stuff.
"Are you gonna blog this?" I asked. I couldn't even bring myself to photograph it. which is why I'd make an awful photojournalist.
"It's art." he told me.
Pretty gory art. Van Gogh might have liked it.
It was my turn to hold the chicken and wave it over my head three times. The chicken squawked like mad. It really didn't want to go in my place. Probably because it sensed my sins are so many and thought it's gonna go to chicken hell as a result. As I finished, I looked up and saw a television camera staring me in the face.
"Oh shit!" I muttered.
Back home, I prepared the festive pre-fast meal which consisted of, well, chicken. I don't know how I did it but I totally disconnected the live chickens I saw that morning from the de-feathered thing that sat in my fridge.
I really should become a vegetarian.
Have an easy fast - to those who are fasting.
Friday, September 29, 2006
lyrical moments
Driving home with Hubby after work yesterday through East Jerusalem, I was having such wonderful spiritual feelings. We passed by a neighborhood mosque in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood, where the muezzin was calling out for prayer. It was about 6:45 pm and people there probably were just finishing up their break-fast meal during these Ramadan days. A block beyond we saw Ultra-Orthodox Jews coming and going to Rabbi Shimon the Righteous's gravesite nearby. There's an enclave of religious Jews who have settled in this neighborhood because of this gravesite.
We were just coming out of that enchanting neighborhood, onto the highway, which would lead us past the Mt. of Olives towards our town. We stopped at a red light. To the right of me was a panoramic view of East Jerusalem and West Jerusalem in all its glory, including the Dome of the Rock, with its gold dome still glistening in the twilight.
To the left of us was a red Mazda sports car. Music was blaring really loudly from that car and he parked beside us for the duration of that seemingly long red traffic light.
I'm telling you the music was blaring - the lyrics were loud and clear.
"My head, my back - lick my P...y and my crack." The singer ranted on - "My head,my back, lick my p...y and my crack."
If anything got me out of my spiritual stupor it was that.
I laughed and turned to hubby.
"You don't need to be too much of a poet to write songs nowadays, eh? So much for Jerusalem the Holy."
The driver of the red Mazda was oblivious to our stares and laughter. Wonder if he even understood the song's lyrics.
And then - the light turned green...
Sunday, September 24, 2006
New Years in the Country
The last time I cried when a vacation ended was when I left Sinai about 1 1/2 years ago after spending a glorious 5 days there. It was paradise. I cried today too after coming home from spending Rosh Hashana on a friend's kibbutz. This kibbutz is far from paradise, let me tell you, but there is something special about spending a major holiday with friends whom you started out your life with in Israel (they were on the same absorption center as we were), not having had to spend hours on line in the supermarkets in the pre-holiday madness, not having had to slave over the stove for hours preparing elaborate holiday meals, etc. I just showed up with some Belgian chocolates and expensive vodka, three of my kids and Hubby.
There are only about 6 families and some renters on this kibbutz. It's tiny. But they have a guest house, which our friend improves on little-by-little each year, which we stay in and check for scorpions first before unpacking our bags.
We saw other guests staying for the holiday who we knew from previous years, as well as other kibbutz members who we are friendly with and the place always seems like a home away from home - tiny as it may be.
They have a synagogue on the premises - non-Orthodox - and you can go there in jeans and a t-shirt or you can dress up, if you wish - for the High Holiday services. Nothing like the States/Canada where high fashion for the high holidays is a Must for being seen in a synagogue. And the formal services take hours longer there. I was really grateful to take part in the services in this small, informal synagogue, without all the superficial trappings.
On the eve of Rosh Hashana, on Friday night after services, a family, originally from Bombay, India, had their father do a communal Rosh Hashana seder in the kibbutz dining room with leeks, string beans, pomegrantes, fish head, brains (don't ask), dates, and beets and special blessings said over each one. I spoke to the father the next day. I wanted to know about their origins. He and his wife looked totally Indian and I was curious. Were they originally Iraqis who came to India in the late 1800s, as many did? He said they were B'nei Israel, meaning they are a group that trace their origins from the first Temple era, before the great exile. So he is descended from one of the lost 10 tribes and not the two tribes of Yehuda and Binyamin as are the rest of us. I found chatting to him totally fascinating.
The tv room/clubhouse in the bomb shelter of the guest house has these torn, dirty comfortable chairs all over the room and they can really use an upgrade on furniture here, but it also has its charm. We all hang around there at midnight and watch some movie here and there - there's always someone watching tv like the lifeguard and his fluffy terrier dog. Or the time our entire family watched movies on that TV with other families during a chilly evening during one Passover holiday and we wrapped ourselves in blankets and put our feet up on each other. Another time I couldn't sleep around 3 in the morning, went down to the TV room and some of the kibbutz dogs came in to keep me company. Last night there were other guests around the same age as my kids and they were up all night there, drinking tea, coffee and smoking a nargila.
Last night we sat in the backyard of our friend's home, drinking wine, drinking coffee, drinking sodas, and saw a really bright shooting star that seemed so close. It made the evening seem so magical.
And who can forget lounging by the pool. My son played pool volleyball for hours. So today, when we left right after lunch, people were already by the pool and its crystal clear, clean waters together with the burning sun were tempting me to stay just a bit longer.
But we were nervous about traffic. If we waited until the end of the holiday, the traffic going south would be just horrendous and no one wanted to put Hubby in a foul mood. It would have taken us 5 hours or so to get back instead of 2 1/2 hours.
And very reluctantly, I headed back to our car, to Jerusalem, to our home in the city. Back to real life.
I think I would have wanted to prolong our New Year's vacation just a touch longer.
Happy New Year and Ramadan Kareem to all Jews and Moslems. You Christians will have to wait until December/January for your New Year's wishes.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Hey - Do you Want to Know a Secret?
Yesterday I was invited to a special screening of a non-hit full length feature film called "The Secret". Ten of us crowded into a small room around a lap top and we watched this cleverly filmed flick. I came across a blog about it which explains the whole deal really well.
It's all about creating this energy from your thoughts - to get whatever it is you want. We compared notes after the film and I was already familiar with grateful lists and visions lists where you list incredible things that you want, even if it sounds ludicrous. Because one has to ask for what one wants. If you don't ask - you don't get. Makes quite a bit of sense.
In retrospect, I have gotten some incredible gifts during the past few years, after I started making these lists and the gifts, however subtle, are still gifts and they keep coming. Like the time I voiced my wish to a friend that I would really like to work with non-Jews in Israel, showing them the Jewish side of things, the Israeli side of things, inviting them to my home for holidays/Sabbath so they could have a different non-touristy experience. A few months later I landed a position as a coordinator for an Interfaith group in Jerusalem which gave me the opportunity to do just that. Then there was a friend who only knew me through an e-mail list, who felt a kinship because she was Jewish and I was Jewish and we were Rolling Stones fans to boot. Within a year, she had sent me a round trip business class ticket on her air miles to see the Stones in New York and I thought I was dreaming.
And the movie also confirmed what I already sensed - that people who are anti-war demonstrators, for example, are actually promoting war with their thoughts because their whole focus is on war and not peace. I have a stance that I never go to demonstrations because of all the negative energy I experience there. No matter how worthy a cause. I'll join in if it's to be helpful to others, because I feel I'm building something, so it was amusing/amazing to have my thoughts confirmed.
I'm inspired now to publicly list more than 10 things I would like to ask for and more than 10 things I am grateful for today.
Then the next step would be to visualize myself with whatever it is I am asking for.
You can join me in listing the things you want and are grateful for and this can be an ongoing thing. I'd love to hear back that it's working for you too.
Wish List
1. I would like to buy a 4 bedroom home - within this month - preferably with a garden.
2. Easy mortgage payments - I want to be able to pay for the home effortlessly.
3. I want to have 3 months contingency saved up
4. I want my kids to be successfull and happy in their lives - career-wise and marriage-wise
5. I want my ex-Criminal kid to finally come home and abide by the rules set out for her from her school
6. I want to take a vacation with my husband and kids - in a nice hotel
7. I want to have the strength and willpower to eat healthier - whole foods preferably
8. I want to become a famous writer
9. I WANT TO MAKE A SHITLOAD OF MONEY - $7,000,000.
10. I want a 42" flat screen LCD television with a good sound system.
11. A lovely new couch would be wonderful too
12. As well as a dining room table with new chairs
Now for the Grateful List:
1. I am grateful my son is doing well in school this year (8th grade) and is motivated to do well and is going to after school tutoring
2. I am grateful we are going away to our friends on Kibbutz for Rosh Hashana which relieves me from shopping and cooking
3. I am grateful for the warm weather in Jerusalem
4. I am grateful for my job
5. I am grateful to have a married daughter
6. I am grateful to have a wide variety of good friends
7. I am grateful for my interfaith work
8. I am grateful that my self-employed husband is busy with work
9. I am grateful that I enjoy hanging out with my kids
10. I am grateful to watch downloaded movies on my computer!!!
11. I am grateful that I have a fulfilling spiritual life
12. I am grateful to live in Jerusalem....
Happy Jewish New Year and Ramadan Karim!!!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Gourmet dinners - the macrobiotic way
I don't know how I get sucked into it. I'm a hopeless chocolate addict. For people who are strictly on a macrobiotic diet, that is surely akin to eating pork for a Moslem or Orthodox Jew. And this week was just simply awful because our company had too many New Years parties - and what did they do? They saved an entire chocolate mousse cake for the staff. And we're a small staff so there's lots of the bad stuff for all of us. To top it all off, everyone is gifting the office with tons of chocolate. This is awful. Simply awful.
But getting back to last week's dinner - we were around 10 people. You could tell who was a true "macro" person by the size of them. "They" - meaning most of the people around the table were terribly skinny. "Us" - meaning just me and another woman, were alot more "zaftig" than the others. I just knew this other woman ate regular food and we sat near each other for support.
But you know, if I could, I would love to kick the "bad eating" habits I have and return to nature. Eating pure, natural foods, revelling in their natural wholesome tastes. It's healthier. Maybe my cough would go away and I would stop scaring people on the public buses with it. It's just so time consuming and time is sorely lacking and so is cash to hire a good cook.
But the food was absolutely divine.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Coughing - no laughing matter
It started two weeks ago with a sore throat. It turned into an itchy cough a couple days later, and I saw my Russian doctor.
"I don't like the way you breathe."
"Why? Is it too heavy for you?" I joked. She didn't get it.
She armed me with an antibiotic and off I went.
And still, nothing's changed. I'm still hacking away.
Maybe it's stress. My nearly-17 year old ex-Criminal ran away from her hostel two weeks ago and the police are looking for her. She had only 2 months left to her "sentence" of being in that hostel and she fucked up by running away. Now, they'll probably extend her time there until she's 18. She shows up now and then, phones me now and then, even shows up at her old school now and then and is trying to get a job.
Just thinking about her makes me cough.
And then there's the fact that we have to move the end of October and do not have a place to move to. We're debating whether to rent or buy. It's one of life's tough decisions that I don't want to deal with at the moment but I have to nevertheless. And every evening after work, I am out with real estate agents who are showing me shitty old homes because our budget is quite low. Will we ever get a dream home? Or any home? And rentals? There are only two 4 bedroom rentals in our town. They're expensive, and we'd have to move every year or two again. I'm tired of being on the run. I really would like to settle down in one place. We're even playing the lottery to see if we could even win the 2nd prize which would make for a decent down-payment for a home.
And thinking about it makes me cough...
I went out for dinner last week with my married daughter who was doing her Russian imitation.
"Nastarovia!!! Charasho, piesdietz, pederas, bleh!!" she shouted out while we're sitting outside at this Italian restaurant.
I'm hysterically laughing and begin a terrible coughing fit. I'm hoping not to freak out the restaurant's other patrons sitting near us. I'm sure I did, but they were polite about it and didn't move inside. Anyway, I'm on antibiotics and not contagious.
I meet a macrobiotics counsellor who is giving free advice at a health food store. He tells me to drink Lotus Root Tea. I buy it. It's disgusting but I drink it anyway. I continue to hack away with this damn cough.
I meet him again. More free advice.
"You're expelling yin. Stay away from coffee, sugars, even fruits" he said looking at my fresh organic figs I just bought. I was sad. My favorite foods and I can't eat them.
Last night, after having finished my antibiotics, the doctor started me on decongestants. I should be sleepy. I am extremely tired by 9:00 pm and go to bed at a decent hour. But I wake up at 3:30 am - in time to see my night-owl kids return home from wherever it is they go to at that hour. I rescue Hubby's cellphone and cigarettes from the diningroom in case my kids "need" to use them and put them in our room. An hour later Hubby is turning on the light in the hallway. I was just dozing off and the light was harsh.
"Why did you turn on the lights just now?" I asked Hubs.
"I'm looking for my cigarettes."
I hate nicotine addicts.
"They're on our table here" I said slurring my speech.
"Oh! Thanks!" His tone was appreciative because he knew I had rescued his precious smokes from my two thieving, smoking teens.
This morning I got to work at 7:30 am. I go down to the fridge and see this big, decadent chocolate mousse cake that's left over from a party my office had 2 nights ago. I remember what the counsellor said about having all that Yin in my system.
But I don't care. I take a plateful of cake, hoping the rest of the office staff will finish it before noon, or I'll have another piece.
I tell my co-worker. "I really shouldn't be eating this. It's too Yin"
She looks at me strangely but guesses I shouldn't be eating sweets.
I continued - "But I don't care. I'd rather cough and have this cake. It's just too good to pass up."
I closed the door to my office and coughed away.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Cat chess
My son and Hubby rescued 2 abandoned and hungry kittens over the weekend at a construction site. Great. Now I have 2 more "babies" to feed. Meanwhile, the little rascals were busy this past Saturday playing a game of chess. Intelligent animals, aren't they?
Man from U.R.F.A.
We had a dinner guest over for our Friday night Sabbath meal. Funny that our guests are usually not Jewish because the friends we have, who are Orthodox, won't drive to our home for dinner on the Sabbath and we don't have too many friends in our immediate neighborhood, due to our very busy lifestyles. And there are those friends that aren't Orthodox and live in Jerusalem that don't drive and there's no bus service on the Sabbath.
This Turkish guy was a guest at our last interfaith meeting, and is studying conflict resolution at the Hebrew U for a few months, and said to me - before he leaves back for Turkey, he would love to experience a Shabbat meal. I immediately invited him, because not only does everything feel more festive when there are guests around, but also because my crazy family misbehaves alot less when there's company. Doesn't everyone's family?
Before he arrived, my kids were like "Why are you inviting Arabs again?". Besides telling them they'd never get a chance to interact with Arabs if I didn't keep on inviting them to our home, I tried to explain this particular man isn't an Arab because Turkish people don't consider themselves Arabs. They're - well - Turkish.
"So why is his name Ibrahim?"
"Because he is a Moslem."
Then I tried to explain to my not-so-very-worldly teens that not all Moslems are Arabs, terrorists, etc. It's something that I have to keep on drilling into them. Anyway, I knew they would like him.
Even though Ibrahim now lives in Istanbul, he was born in Urfa , a town near the Syrian border with an amazing history. Biblical Abraham was said to have been born there, and there is a mosque built over his birthplace, plus a cave where he was thrown into the fire when he was a child, and survived because of his faith in God. Most of you know the story. I was totally fascinated by this. He told me many Israelis of Turkish/Kurdish background quietly pass into Syria from Urfa to visit their ancestral home (even though Syria is officially closed to Israelis). 
Synagogue built by Jews from Urfa, Turkey - Jerusalem
Interior of the Urfa Synagogue, Jerusalem
Urfa was home to many Jews pre-1948, and there is even a synagogue in Jerusalem which was built around the turn of the century - see photos above - by Urfa's expats. Ibrahim ventured into that synagogue last Friday night to check it out and he was thrilled to find some people from Urfa there. He remarked that they looked Turkish and resembled many of his relatives. Out of the 40 people that pray in that particular synagogue, only 9 are left from the Urfa community. The rest moved on to different areas of the city/country. I could see the joy in his face as he described meeting his Jewish countrymen - who were different from the affluent Jews he now encounters in Istanbul. Urfa's people were more salt-of-the-earth small merchant types.
Looks like I have to add yet another place to visit on my wish list.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
cup o joe
It is the newest of a long line of coffee places in Jerusalem to open up this past week. That day I was feeling tired, grumpy, sweaty, trying to get over bronchitis and I sauntered over there to check it out, as I like to do with all eateries/drinkeries.
I ordered a cappucino with a tortilla goat cheese wrap. I thought, hey, here comes a hefty cappucino in a nice big cup. This set me back $2.50 after all. Then they brought me this perfectly tasting coffee in a ridiculously tiny expresso coffee cup.
"I didn't order expresso. I ordered Cappucino."
"This is your cappucino." the waitress informed me.
What the F?
Who imported this chain here anyways? Must not have been Jews because we like huge portions of everything. I downed my shot glass of caffeine in 3 small gulps and felt a trite ripped off on top of every other awful thing I felt that day.
Thankfully the tortilla wrap was a decently huge portion.
Having voiced my complaint of "they should have told me this cappucino was going to be 3 tablespoons only before I ordered it" to the waitress, the manager came right over with a "Joe" token, saying I could use it on my next visit there.
I will. But I really think they should rename the place - Tablespoon O Joe.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Feeling like biblical Job again...
This week's been tough. One Example -
It started out by me getting a threatening letter from a check collection agency. One of my checks bounced and they marked in a box that the reason it bounced was lack of funds. Huh? I happened to have actually had money in the bank at that time, however fleetingly. Plus, they're charging me a penalty on top of the regular amount of the check. I called them.
"I think there's been a mistake in that letter you sent."
"What's your ID number"
I gave it to him.
"I see you owe 136 shekels plus you'll have to pay the 55 shekel fee."
"Why do I have to pay a penalty if it's not MY fault that the check bounced - it must be your fault."
This crapola of a collection thief got totally fucked up over the fact that I accused him of making a mistake.
"If you don't pay this..." I could hear his rats ass of a voice rising, "...I will make sure you won't be able to write a check. Anywhere. Not in Renuar, TNT....blah blah blah" as he rattled off all of Jerusalem's fashion outlets.
"I'm not going to pay the penalty and that's final. I'll be happy to pay the principal."
Later that afternoon I marched into the Make-up store where I wrote the check, showed the manager my bank statement where it showed not even an overdraft (most Israelis do have overdraft)and she apologized profusely, calling me "Honey" all the time. She was American and I was relieved that I could sound half-intelligent and explain what was bugging me about that check collection agency. I'd have more trouble explaining it all in Hebrew, save for the choice words in Hebrew I could have called the idiot I spoke to that morning.
She called up and spoke to a different person at the collection agency. That person actually checked my cheque and saw that the store made a mistake - and the stamp they put on the back of the check was put on the front - thus the reason why my bank didn't accept their cheque. Ta Da!!!
And on my way out, I tried on all the latest lipsticks and shiny eyeshadows from all the expensive brands. At least if I won a small victory, I should look good, shouldn't I?
Saturday, September 02, 2006
What the bleep were they thinking?
It's like 4:30 am on Saturday morning and I can't sleep - because of the muezzin, my hacking cough (mostly) and a chirping cricket who made its way into my house.
My brother-in-law and nephew both came in for a very short visit. They called my brother but didn't call me to tell me they were in town so I didn't know they were here until they left. Hmmph. Made me feel quite the family outcast. That's what you get when you're not the Orthodox Shining Light, Community Leader in the family.
Then there was the notice I read in the papers of Seeds of Peace, a group bringing together Arab and Jewish youth for summer camps in the US and activities in Jerusalem, that they were closing their Jerusalem office. They were moving to Ramallah and Tel Aviv. Wow. What a logical move. No Israeli Jewish teen will be able to step foot into Ramallah and there are hardly any Arabs living in Tel Aviv - I guess things will be easier for them, eh, peacewise, but what the fuck are they thinking? Maybe I'll find out more if I go to their Seeds of Peace Cafe on Sunday night. 
Russian compound
Then if that wasn't enough, walking around the Russian Compound, I got angry at the fact that they had closed down the beautiful once-bustling pub neighborhood in order to destroy these landmarks, to build office buildings.
Russian compound
Jerusalem doesn't have the strict no-destroying-old-picturesque buildings rule that, say, London has. They destroyed nothing and what used to be slummy areas, are now expensive townhouses. There is no need to destroy these structures!!
Russian compound
The last thing pissing me off this week was going to an Iranian (Jewish) shop to buy a veggie juicer. Iranian Jews. I haven't had the pleasure of ever meeting non-Jewish Iranians, except in Canada when my then 5-year old daughter in Canada's Wonderland looked at this woman all covered up in black, including her face, and asked me, within her earshot, if she was a monster.
"No sweetie. She's just all covered up because of modesty. Like some Jewish women cover their hair and elbows and knees because of modesty, she's covering up even more."
The woman, listening to my explanation, thanked me profusely for explaining her garb in such a nice way. She didn't get too many "nice" feelings from the general populace walking around the streets of Toronto. And the next time I met non-Jewish Iranians was when I went to their photo studio to get photos done for our Israeli ID/passports right before we moved to Israel. I remember laughing when we were there, telling them what we were getting the family photos for. Wonder what they were thinking. But I never had a meaningful conversation with any.
Getting back to Iranian Jews. Here many are sales merchants (selling shoes, cheap bric-a-brac, electrical appliances) and hucksters, in general.
Walking into their electrical store, I had decided on the Breville model because all the "fresh juice" sellers in town pretty much owned one.
He turned to me and said "Don't buy that one. You'll regret it. The motor burns out every two months and they're always replacing it."
"Of course their motor burns out - they're using it all day long!!" I reasoned.
He showed me another one he had - 600 watts compared to the 450 watt one I wanted. It looked like a piece of shit compared to the Breville. I insisted on the Breville.
"With this" he said, showing me the shit, "I'll give you a one-year guarantee and with this" showing me the Breville and his face turning red, "you'll get NO guarantee".
Hubby explained to me that they probably make more money with the shittier brand as the markup is higher on that.
"I'll take the Breville please"
"You're making a mistake."
"I doubt it."
I used it a couple times this week to make carrot juice, carrot-beet-apple juice, and I have not regretted buying it - not at all.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Food for Thought
Overeating on the Sabbath is my weakness. This is the only day I eat sweets and plenty of it. I say I buy it for the kids, but that's not totally true. I had an even greater excuse to buy more junk as my daughter and Hubby were here for the weekend. My fridge is stuffed with good food, but there are also two cakes, 3 packages of chips/nachos, ice cream, pistachios and one bag of healthy Terra blue potato chips recently imported from the US. It used to be when the kids were younger, I would have to lock up the snacks because they would eat them all up Friday evening like starving locusts and there'd be nothing left for Saturday. But this morning I looked in the fridge and everything was unlocked and intact.
I feel terribly bloated today and perused my macriobiotic self-healing books that make me depressed while reading about their cleansing diet.
"For 3-7 days eat bland foods including grains, soups, have no protein, just cooked vegetables and tamari sauce"
Ugh. Has it boiled down to this?
A reader of this blog sent me an email about the fact that bad foods may have contributed to the conflict in this region. And that good foods may eventually heal it. My macrobiotic friends certainly think so.
I remember spending a weekend with a Moslem family in M'ghar in the Galilee. I sipped endless amounts of coffee - maybe even 12 cups in one day. Who can resist that alluring Arabic coffee spiced with hel (cardamom)? I can't.
And coffee makes you have heart palpatations and get nervous.
Are Jewish Israelis any better? They're into their fried kubeh, falafel and chips. Terrible for the stomach. They don't drink as much coffee as their Arabic cousins, but coffee shops are full.
Do you think if we cut out the fried foods and the coffee and stick to traditional mint tea and mejedderah - can we be better friends?
Friday, August 25, 2006
Tel Aviv Beach Party
It was so miserably hot in Jerusalem this week, that I wonder how people manage in coastal cities like Tel Aviv, Haifa, etc. But the lure of the beach in the evening and a free movie on a big screen was enough to drag me out there last night.
Ahhh Tel Aviv. For Jerusalemites going to Tel Aviv, think that it's something like someone from an historic, beautiful and cultured smallish city in the US visiting big, bad and wonderful NYC - the city that never sleeps. Tel Aviv for me = towering buildings, seedy peep shows near the central bus station, beachfront hotels, beach promenade, looser people, clubs opening up at 11:00 pm instead of closing shortly afterwards, night life, night life, night life.
I've been putting off going to Tel Aviv, even though it's just an hour away, for a year. I don't know why. Once I'm there, I don't know why it takes me a year to get there. I'm always in awe of it when I visit. I should be enjoying this city more - if not once a month, then once every other month.
I went with my oldest married daughter and the ex-Criminal who was allowed on an outing with her mom. My eldest quibbled and bitched like an old married woman on the way there.
"I shouldn't really be going. I really should be cleaning our room. I should be doing laundry. I should be shopping."
Sheesh, lady. You've been married 2 months and you're an old fuddy duddy already. Shut the fuck up!
We got out of our cab and in our short walk to the beach, the humidity hit us Jerusalemites immediately. Our hair began to frizz and curl, which looked great on me, but caused my Eldest to complain even more. Meanwhile, a cute stranger on a bike flirted with my Eldest while on the Promenade. People are so much chattier to strangers here. But I stopped his chit-chat with a stare that said "DO NOT TALK TO BITCHY ELDEST DAUGHTER. SHE IS TAKEN!" He got the hint and biked off.
We checked our bags at a special security booth to go onto Banana Beach,where they were showing the movie King Kong. Nothing like seeing a giant ape on a giant screen, with a crowd of noisy Israelis. We munched on everything they sold on the beach - beer, iced coffee, grapes, popcorn, hot dogs and my Eldest even stopped complaining about the sand getting into her handbag and her clothes. I, on the other hand, slunk my feet deep into the cool sand.
It was 11:00 at night and the movie stopped for a 2nd intermission - just as the big ape cradled his blonde honey in the palm of his hand. It was touching. But if we waited until the end, there would have been no more buses back to Jerusalem and I don't know a soul in Tel Aviv where I could crash with my 2 kids for the night - not that they wanted to sleep over, but it would have been simpler. So I reluctantly pulled my feet out of that delicious sand to go back to Jerusalem.
We knew the ending anyways - they kill the Ape, who terrified most people, except for the blonde chick, and somehow I wished the story could have been changed somehow. But I don't know how that could have been. Because, after all, he was just so friggin' huge (and different). And that usually frightens us all, doesn't it.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Peace Stuff next week
Figure I go back to work next week and miss the Sulha Bus which will travel to Arab and Jewish villages in the Galilee and will camp out in the Arab village of Tu'ran.
My daughters were invited to Italy to attend a peace camp. They're hemming and hawing - and can't make up their minds whether they want to be involved. Stupid kids. Maybe I'll have better luck with my grandchildren.
Anyway, there were kids this summer who were intelligent enough to participate in this type of camp (thanks to Klara for the link).
summer holiday - week 2
"Wanna have one last fuck?" asked Hubby yesterday morning, in all seriousness, as he read the papers where the Iranian president had threatened to usher in the Islamic messiah today and wreak havoc on the world...
Never one to believe the end is near, I got dressed and met my German friend who was in Israel for a week. She is an interesting character. A young devout Catholic sister in a community of hippie-type religious Catholics of a strange order that wear green most of the time. She looks like she stepped out of a medieval Christian painting. She introduced herself to me a few years back on her first trip because she wanted to "apologize for what Germans did to the Jews". She is also a singer, singing with a duo of Christian Arabs in Nazareth and was practicing with them this week. It was nice to get back in touch, and we caught up on lots over High Tea and scones at Chez Gita's in Jerusalem.
Later that evening I wanted to run off to Tel Aviv to see the movies on the beach, but Hubby talked me out of it, because of the heat wave. It looks like October is probably a better bet for running off to Tel Aviv. The humidity there must be awful right now. Jerusalem is hot enough.
Yesterday I treated myself to a macrobiotic day at a friend's home in Mevo Betar (Cooperative moshav, smallholder settlement, 10 km. southwest of Jerusalem; established 1950 by Herut). I took the special buses from Jerusalem to a nearby ultra-Orthodox settlement where the women sit in the back (I felt so early-1960's deep South Black) and the men in the front. I had wrapped a skirt over my pants, not wanting to offend the modest-conscious people on the bus. She picked me up there to take me to her place. We passed a bunch of Arab kids at the entrance to the settlement selling figs. I gave them a couple of shekels and they thrust their entire stock of home-grown figs at me inside the car. I love figs, but I took only three.
"That was so nice of you. Why did you do it?"
"Better I give them charity than Hamas or Hezbollah. I'm in stiff competition with these groups, you know. I wish more Jews would give these kids' families charity or buy figs from them. This way they wouldn't need to turn to those terrorist groups who support these poor families, give the kids hot lunches and an education of hate."
I was feeling under the weather, as the heat wave persisted. We started out with a breakfast of miso soup and crepes (whole-wheat) with homemade fruit filling, pickled rutabaga and I took down some interesting books to read from their shelves on Past Lives in between courses. I did have a ginger compress treatment, which seemed to heal my aching, stiff neck.
"Is this going to be really uncomfortable?" I asked, as I saw her heating wet towels in boiling water.
"Don't worry. It's not Chinese torture." she looked at me. "It's Japanese torture!"
We laughed, as she put the boiling hot ginger soaked towels on my stomach, neck and kidney areas. It's probably more normal to get this type of treatment in cooler weather, but hey - this was my vacation time.
There were more healthy snacks and drinks, Shinto Buddhist chanting, and a long 1 hour hike through their beautiful Moshav before stuffing myself on a full multi-course dinner. Monster homes next to dingy homes built in the 1950s. Abandoned campgrounds. Beautiful gardens. I'm sorry I didn't take along my camera to capture the visuals, but it is a lovely area 15 minutes from Jerusalem.
Friday, August 18, 2006
look who's bloggin'
Well, won't I eat my camel's fleas. Is this for real or not? I can't really tell. But anyone care to leave a comment on his site? (for English - click on one of the little flags on the right side. The second flag from the left.)
What I do on my summer vacation
I'm ending my first week of summer vacation. One more week to go and I want it to be more eventful than my first which was an unorganized mish-mash of things listed on my To Do list - most of which I never got to do.
I never did get to sleep in. On Thursday morning, before dawn, and on my day off I should not hear ANYTHING before dawn, it's a damn sin - I hear Hubby cursing and banging things in the kitchen with yells of "FUCK" "DAMN" and I heard brooms zooming across the floor and thought 'hey, he's playing a great game of floor hockey at 4:00 am, but with whom?' Finally, after the cussing and banging wouldn't stop, I got up from bed.
"What the hell is going on there?"
"DON'T COME OUT OF YOUR ROOM. I'M TRYING TO CATCH A BEE."
It must have been one giant muthafucka bee because I heard it buzzing beyond the door, and I didn't dare venture out of my safe room.
A few more minutes of broom swishing and then the front door banged shut. The bee had left the building. Thank God. Now that made me hate bees more than ever, having my vacation slumber disturbed by those annoying and scary and stinging pests.
I never got to Tel Aviv yet. I've never been inside Azrielli towers. I never got to go to the beach yet. I didn't get to go to Mini Israel yet. And there's a Bat Yam Beach festival next week. There's free movies on Banana Beach in Tel Aviv next week. There are soccer players that my son wants to meet during practice. There's a real Romanian band playing gypsy music at the Khan Theater on Wednesday night. There's even my living room floor that I want to take time to wax and make it shine so that Hubby believes I'm doing substantial stuff during my time off work.
But I did go on the double-decker tour bus of Jerusalem along with other fake tourists. My son thought they'd throw us off the bus if they'd realize we're not really tourists.
"No honey. That's not how the world works. It works on money. They'll charge you an absolute fortune to get on that bus. 10 times the price of a regular bus. Then you pay that fee and they'll never think of throwing you off the bus. Kapish?"
"Hey - even Nasrallah and his wife can go on this bus (if they pay, of course) - there's an Arabic translation among the 8 languages outfitted for earphones."
And today, we had a lovely organic breakfast over at Tavlin (spices) Restaurant in the pastoral moshav of Eshtaol overlooking the fields of planted spices and the country homes.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
No Sulha
I just found out yesterday that the Sulha which was planned for August 22 and 23rd was cancelled. I am so disappointed. It seems that the Arab Sulha staff are just too piping hot mad about the war in Lebanon and do not feel it is the right time now to meet with the Other. I, on the other hand, feel it is the perfect time to meet. Right after a conflict. After all, we could be just as angry. We've had civilian hits too from Katyushas and plenty of them.
I am also heartbroken by this because I feel that this conflict set grassroots peace movements back to below zero. I had felt, up until then, that we were somewhere close to midpoint. Now we have to begin all over again and build trust and friendships from the start. What a disaster.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Summer Holiday
I've got two weeks "forced" vacation from work. The office is closed and I'm bouncing around town, feeling lazy at home, not wanting to do anything on my To Do list. I'm wanting to take in some touristy things like going on the double-decker tour bus of Jerusalem with my son, but instead I've been running around doing yicky stuff like taking him to the dentist and orthodontist for future braces. He wants yellow and black braces - the color of the Jerusalem soccer team. Yuck.
But I did manage to go to the Hutzot Hayotzer arts and crafts fair in Jerusalem, which was absolutely lovely.
My daughter came by to give us our copy of her wedding album and dvd's which took 2 months in the making. I tried putting the disk on my computer and it wouldn't work. The color is better on my computer than on my TV which shows everything in red. Color tubes are expensive. The natives were getting restless while the computer was "searching" the disk.
"Ma! Don't you know how to run this on your computer?" the kids asked.
"No. But she knows how to hold a plateful of food" remarked Hubby.
Yes, and I also know how to throw same plateful of food over Hubby's head too, but I held back. Yes I did.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
cruise conversations
I had a very interesting conversation, in my many hours of leisure on this cruise, with a middle-aged man who is a Lebanese Jew. His grandfather was born in Beirut, so he is Lebanese through and through. He had his insights on the Lebanese/Israeli conflict.
I asked him "Why couldn't the Lebanese government open up their borders to Israel like Egypt and Jordan did? Why did they have to have Hezbollah in their country. Why couldn't they just shoo them out of Lebanon?"
He said - "You see, Lebanon is like a virgin girl when it comes to peace with Israel. They want it, but they don't want, they want it, but they're afraid of having it, if they're relatives find out, they'll kill her..."
He was telling us that we don't know "the Middle East mentality" and tried to explain it in various parables and stories.
One story was that he, his grandfather and father were walking in the Jerusalem area of Talpiot. They began small-talk with an Arab family in Arabic and were very cordial and friendly to each other. As soon as they left each other, his grandfather and father began to curse those Arabs under their breath, and he began to laugh.
"Why are you laughing" asked grandad.
"Because that's EXACTLY what they're doing right now about us!"
He described former prime minister Sharon's dealing with the Gaza disengagement action as rushed as a little boy needing to pee.
"Instead of focusing on Hizbollah in Lebanon, who is the real enemy of Israel, they trained our soldiers in how to take Jews from their homes - believing that the Arabs will absolutely love us after we do this. And the Wall was the worst thing the government could have done because now more will hate us and it will bring in more fanatic nationalism of theirs. The Israeli government should have spent the money instead on building hospitals in Gaza City."
I certainly agreed with him on this matter.
He cautioned me further - "remember that what they say to you is very different from what they say at home" and he continued with his quickie lesson on Middle East culture believing it will also help me with my Tunisian son-in-law.
"Even if you haven't eaten in 3 days and you are starving. You go to someone's home and they will offer you food. You must refuse!! It's the proper thing to do. If they really mean that they want to offer you food, then they'll put the food in front of you even though you said no and INSIST that you eat it 100 times!
And I thought, well, Jeez. My Arab friends must think I'm a total boor, ill bred and all that. I never refuse an offer of food.
colors of friendship
I just got this e-mail:
Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel. All claimed that
they were the best. The most important. The most useful. The most beautiful. The
favorite.
Green said:
"Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was
chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over
the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."
Blue interrupted:
"You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the
water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea.
The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be
nothing."
Yellow chuckled:
"You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world.
The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look
at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no
fun."
Orange started next to blow her trumpet:
"I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I
serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of
carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don't hang around all the
time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking
that no one gives another thought to any of you."
Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:
"I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of
danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the
blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of
passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."
Purple rose up to his full height:
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and
power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of
authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."
Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as
much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice
me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and
reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for
prayer and inner peace."
And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own
superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a
startling flash of bright lightening, thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to
pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one
another for comfort.
In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak:
"You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the
rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and
different? Join hands with one another and come to me."
Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined
hands.
The rain continued:
"From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great
bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign
of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a
Rainbow appears in the sky, to let us remember to appreciate one another.
author unknown
cruisin'
Hubby and I took a 3 day cruise over the weekend to forget about the war, forget about the kids, forget about the puppy we were fostering and the collection of his poo throughout the house, forget that we have jobs, forget that we have bills, faggedabout everything in fact.
The trip was to Alanya in Turkey and Limassol in Cyprus. It was our first cruise. And if we ever wondered where all the heavy people are in Israel, we found out where they were - right on the cruise with us. Maybe it was the 4 huge meals a day we were served by attentive Egyptian staff but alot of the 800 patrons were, well, big.
It took time to get used to the motion of the ship and I felt like a drunken sailor most of the time, and this was calm water season. I laughed at the spaghetti shaking around at the midnight buffet, recalling my friends telling me years ago about their acid trips where they would eat spaghetti their mother prepared for them and the spaghetti seemed to spin around in their plate. Yup - it was trippy indeed. The first night, I stepped around puke here and there on the deck and in the aisles - but people's stomachs seemed to have calmed down after that first night, praise the Lord. That seemed to make me more ill than the boat's motion.
We got to Turkey which suprised me at its very European look. I thought it would look more Oriental than European. European with mosques. Alanya was lovely and we sipped apple tea and Turkish coffee at a place in the mountains called Dim Cai - which had restaurant seating above a river where kids splashed down from a bridge. I walked around the modern bazaar and bought some Turkish music - Tarkan, Ibrahim Tatlises and an interesting Analolian mix, recommended to me by the cool sales guy in the cd shop. He simply abhorred Tarkan (too teenybop) and Ibrahim wasn't ethnic music (I told him I thought it was ethnic) - so he recommended something he thought was cool - and ethnic. Walking around it was amusing to hear the Turkish shopkeepers call out to us in Hebrew.
The next day we toured Limassol (nothing to see there) and took a bus to a quaint 800 year old winemaking village called Omodos. Others on our ship took a trip to the island of Napa but I wanted to see the sites... I had the local Frappe coffee, which seemed like a coffee milkshake. It's their speciality. And the women were making lace everything - doilies, tissue box covers, tableclothes, whatever. There was no bargaining in Cyprus whatsoever - a bit of a downer after the Turkish bargaining and Israelis do love to get discounts.
And before we knew it, we were heading back home - back to real life. The trip - was absolutely short - but lovely!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Sisters are doing it for themselves
Not being present at a Tel Aviv demonstration on Saturday because I don't do demonstrations where people chanted Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies, I was especially pleased to attend a special women's interfaith gathering on Monday evening at Ticho House , a Jerusalem landmark restaurant. We were a group of nearly 30 women, many Moslems and many Jews and a handful of Christians. Our program was "How is each of us coping with the war?". I was very pleased to see a handful of Orthodox Jewish women in attendance as well. They're generally not present at meeting the Other, tending to be more insular.
Of course people's curiosity piqued at the sight of our eclectic group speaking Arabic, Hebrew and English, and even the Arab chef came out to meet some of us, while the waiters were doing double-takes, not knowing what to make of our group. I absolutely love when that happens.
We began with Moslem, Jewish and Christian prayers and each one of us spoke about how the war is affecting us. There was certainly alot of emotion in our short dialogues from the heart - some even speaking as tears ran down their faces.
Many of us spoke about how horrified we are at the irrational violence. One person spoke of how frustrating it was because she knew that both sides are saying the same things - namely, how 'the other side only understands violence - we have to show them we're strong' which only breeds another cycle of violence. Another said that to follow the way of God is not to kill. I spoke about my long-harbored desire to visit Lebanon, feeling it was going to be the next country after Jordan and Egypt to open up its borders to Israelis – unfortunately now its borders are not opened up to me, but to soldiers. I was angered by the fact that Arab towns in the North of Israel had no bomb shelters and no siren warning systems as Jewish towns have, and aimed to start a petition for the Israeli government to build these for them, as they have for others. Many nodded their heads in agreement and we are meeting next week for an "action planning group". Finally. I always thought our meetings were lovely but too passive. Nothing will change with just monthly meetings.
We stated our wishes to God that He should put the right thoughts into Hezbollah and our government - and compassion in the hearts of the leaders of this war. We feel peace cannot happen otherwise.
The leader of our group told everyone that she wanted each one of us to contact someone we would not "normally" socialize with and go to their homes. I applauded her for this because people just go to meetings and real friendships can form better with home visits of people you click with. And you can click with others. A Moslem woman named Adia, whose daughter lives in Haifa, who is in Jerusalem with her mom now, took my number. We had a wonderful conversation about Beirut and she told me how lovely Lebanon was - the Switzerland of the Middle East. She was especially thrilled when my cellphone rang because the ring tone is a well known Arabic tune. She held my phone up for her friends to hear and of course I missed the phone call, but what the hell. She just seemed too happy for me to grab it back from her. I do hope she invites me to her home. I'd love to visit and talk about everything. Like what all mothers and wives can talk about. We'll have what to say, I'm sure.
JSPCA Day
I was feeling rather ditzy the last few days like spraying my underarms with my hair silicone spray instead of deodorant. Then I'm writing out my "to do" list at work and I notice a co-worker staring at my first item which said "buy bag of greens for 30 shekels". She probably thought I was buying a stash of weed or something, when actually it was for kale and collards which are very difficult to come buy. Israelis think kale is for decoration and never heard of collards. Private people sell these healthy greens for the health conscience and since I'm a woman of contradictions, I can easily eat a large bowl chocolates together with brown rice and greens.
But getting back to the subject matter, I ended up trying to do a good deed by fostering a dog for a bit until someone can adopt him. I took him for adoption at the JSPCA mobile adoption day in our city and this one scary big lug of a woman was the first to request him.
"ANI ROTZEH OTO!!!" she bellowed over and over again (I WANT HIM!!). She was staring at him as if he were her next meal. I was frightened and I prayed - please God do NOT let this pooch go to this woman. Fortunately my prayers were answered because she didn't want to pay the $120 or so (the fee for all innoculations and spaying) whatsoever and thought she'd get a freebie from them. But no one else wanted to deal with pups and he is now still in my house. Any takers? 
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Cussing the Tee Vee
I spent most of my evening on Thursday looking at Nasrallah's image on TV while he was threatening Israel again with missiles in Tel Aviv if the IDF attacks Beirut.
"Fuck you, you piece of shit!" I said to him, hoping he'd hear me through the tv glass and throwing a pistachio shell at him.
There I was, Mrs. Peacemaker of Jerusalem, suddenly hurling more "F" words at him than Hezbullah's missiles being flung at us daily.
Has it boiled down to this for me?
I'm actually royally pissed off at him and his cronies for fucking up all my plans to visit Beirut one day and take a lovely drive through their once-lovely country and take in some seaside cafes. I'm not the only one who had that vision. But that seems so far off now by light years.
And it seems like it will never end. Each side waiting for the other to be the first one to stop. Well none of them want to be the first. And if they do stop, and Hezbollah does not change its ideology, which it won't, otherwise they won't be called Hezbollah, my fear is that they will only re-arm and re-group and make a stronger attack against us next time. And other similar groups like them might see how difficult it was for the IDF to "smash" them and may join in the conflict to "liberate" the country from us Jews. So what can we really do? It's like if I could ever come face-to-face with a Genie, one of my wishes would be that every militant Islamist be turned into a peace-loving, whirling dervish Sufi. But Genies are hard to find....
Thursday, August 03, 2006
To fast or not to fast
It's already 10 am, and not a stitch of water or food has gone into my mouth since last night. I'm a terrible faster and feel terribly thirsty. It's hot here and thank the Good Lord that I have air conditioning which isn't on at the moment, but at the flick of a switch it could be. I don't know if I'll last the full day - maybe yes or maybe no.
I'm a pick and choose Jew. Lots of options to choose from for fasting on Tisha B'av (9th of Av).
Orthodox - 25 hour fast
Conservative - half day fasting - they feel that we have a State, therefore, there is no real need to fast fully because of the Temple's destruction
Reform - no fasting
Me - depends on the year. Sometimes I feel because there is no peace in the region I must fast for peace. I must fast for the Lebanese/Israeli war to end. I must fast for Hizbollah to stop throwing rockets on us and give us back our kidnapped soldiers. The war would end in a second if they did just that. I must fast because my brother's newly married kid just got called up to fight in Lebanon, and his wife is besides herself with worry. Another one of his kids is being called up on Monday - so even as much as I want to ignore this war, I can't. It's too close to home now.
There was a Women in Green walk around the walls of Jerusalem last night - which even my Fox-News-Addict-Hubby said was too right-wing for him to participate in, and then there was this interesting thing called Dveikus which is a group that meets monthly or weekly and they cry and scream together. I'd love to just check it out. But I'd probably end up laughing looking at everyone doing their thing instead of crying and screaming. This is some sort of Jewish healing therapy, which they claim gets prayers answered and opens up the heart. I can kind of understand it, but picture a whole bunch of Jews getting together crying and screaming in a room about whatever it is they want to cry and scream about and it seems more amusing to me than anything. But I'm sure "letting it all out" is healthy and empowering in a way. Sorta like Primal Scream therapy which John Lennon and Yoko were into in the 70s.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Nine Days
I've been busy trying to ignore a war that's going on while Hubby does just the opposite, sitting at home glued to Fox News.
"they're pro-Israel" he says to me - because that's true and they are truly in the minority. I'm silently glad someone is pro-Israel. Even though I'm against war at the same time. We all certainly know Mel Gibson ain't pro-Israel, but I have my own secret wish for him - that his children marry ultra-orthodox Jews. Mwaaa haa haa.
How does one forget the ills of her country. I went and got a pedicure on Sunday. I hadn't had one in nearly a year. This is very contrary to all the millions of rabbinic laws that they put on us for the 9 days of mourning before the fast of the 9th of Av on Thursday - the only other 25 hour fast besides Yom Kippur. One shouldn't bathe (I do - it's too hot not to), cut hair (I don't), eat meat (I don't), do laundry (I do), listen to music (I don't), go to the movies (only watch videos) until the fast is over. But my feet were bothering me and I needed a bit of pampering. Anyway, this woman who does my feet is Mrs. Barbie Doll. Her place is all done up in pink puffy pillows and rugs and furniture. You gotta see it to believe it. Next time I go, I'll photograph it. She has the biggest boobs, natural ones, that put Pamela Anderson's to shame. And she toned down her hair to a nice ash blonde instead of the yellow shade she had last year.
"Wow! It's great! Where did you do it?"
It seems that everything she does, I want to do.
She had her laser surgery on her eyes and loves being able to see first thing in the morning. She simply raves about it.
"Wow! That's great" I gushed. "Where did you do it?"
Then she had taken a cruise last year, which I booked for Hubby and me for sometime this summer. The same cruise line she had taken.
"It's great! You'll love it" she gushed just like Barbie would do. And she didn't seem to mind that I wanted the same cruise, the same hair color, the same eye surgery and definitely the same boobs as she has.
Friday, July 28, 2006
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