Chaos in the House

I was perusing who is perusing my site from which sites and I came across this particular website from Iran . Unfortunately, I cannot tell whether he is writing in Arabic and Farsi, but he looks like a nice guy. Not like that idiot President of his.

There were no buses back to my neighborhood from Jerusalem and the bus stop was packed full of people. I decided to share a cab with three other women also waiting. The cab driver was crazy.

"That'll be 80 shekel" he told us the fare would be.

"that's ridiculous. I never pay more than 50"

I wanted to get out of the cab but the other women didn't care - they were just going to pay him 15 shekels each, take it or leave it. I pointed to a taxi stand where I always take cabs from. He glared at me.

"You go with all those Muhammads?" letting me know that everyone at that stand were probably East Jerusalem Arabs, which I already knew but didn't care.

"Yeah. They're good drivers and they don't rip me off like you are doing"

Meanwhile, he's going on and on the rest of the ride about a French homosexual passenger, mimicking his accent, telling us we're all fat because his cab can't get up the hill (this is where I asked him for my money back), and thought I was the filthy rich one because I was from North America. What a dick. Next time, I'm stuck, I'll be sure to use the taxi drivers from East Jerusalem who stand by Kikar Zion in downtown Jerusalem.

It's day 5 that two teenage refugees are staying in our home. Our town is full of refugees from the North and I felt it last night while shopping. It seemed like pre-holiday shopping with the crowds and carts filled to the brim. My cart was equally brimming full of food. One of my checks to the supermarket had recently bounced causing me not to be able to write any more checks. But here I was with $150 worth of food for 10 people, all packed up in my cart, ready for the trunk of my car. I shelled out my ID card and gave it to the supermarket manager.

"I'll bring you the cash tomorrow for today's stuff and the bounced check" I promised. And off I went with my stuff.

Later that night the refugees were planning a night on the town with my Daughter. They had the blow dryer going for 1 1/2 hours and the cellphones ringing and the house phone ringing and the front door opening and closing. Hubby was sleeping again on the couch, but I thought I'd go out of my mind with all the noise. Sunday they all go back to their hostel and I'll have my peace and quiet back.

In the morning, I needed to have a quiet respite from my chaotic household which grew in size because my other daughter brought in 2 more friends and my married daughter and her hubby were coming in for the weekend. I took Hubby to a hotel brunch, where it was quiet and peaceful - unlike the noisy places I usually frequent in the shuk.

Married daughter kept on interrupting my quiet brunch threatening to leave because of all the people in the house. I decided the best thing for me this weekend would be to have a real Shabbat (Sabbath) in the house - kind of like what the Orthodox Jews do. No phones ringing, no television, no blow dryer noise for 2 hours, no cellphones, no computer clicking, no nothing. Just sitting back and reading and talking, not to mention eating - and lots of it. It actually sounds ideal. It might be just what I need this weekend.

Bad choices

Still seeing and hearing nothing in Jerusalem - war wise. Thank God. We have one refugee staying in our house from Haifa who phones home daily to speak to her mother who is cooped up in her bomb shelter. Our cousins in Safed have relocated with relatives on the coast.

I am weary of this - even though it seems like a million miles from home. I find I have no energy for peace efforts at the moment. I didn't even go to the Sulha Planning Committee meeting yesterday. Bad choice. I should have gone, because I would have found kindred spirits there. Instead I went home where my very own family are thrilled whenever Israel's bombs hit Lebanon. Don't they care about the civilians? Not at this time.

The Israeli Arabs up North in their villages told the Jerusalem Post they do not have any bomb shelters like the city dwellers do in Haifa. Why? Bad choice for the Israeli government not to have thought about building for them too...

And obviously Hizbollah don't give a fuck either about who gets killed - whether it's a fellow Moslem or an Arab Christian in Nazareth - as long as they are able to toss their katyushas around.

And the rabbis said all this chaos is happening here because of the planned international Gay Pride event in August. I think it's because my boss died and since then, all this stuff began, plus everything is breaking down in my office, which would never have happened had he been around. I think even our office machines were petrified of him. Hubby thinks all this is happening because our house is filthy and chaos reigns inside and out. It's not really filthy though. I've seen filthier.

Plus my Complainer daughter is lying to me, telling me she is Eilat with girlfriends when one of my "spys" found her in Eilat with her "should-have-been-an-ex" boyfriend. He is not allowed in our home anymore after terrifying all of us in a 12 hour siege outside our home one Saturday a few weeks ago, telling her he was going to beat her up. We thought by calling the police he would be shooed away from her and from us for good. But here's another kid, with her bad choices, that's not digging a peaceful life for herself either. Go figure.

Loser thieves

Everything was pissing me off this week. I get to work rather sluggishly these days - there's no old man waiting for me impatiently at 7:30 am to begin the day. I returned home on two buses, looking at everyone thinking - what if I actually "said" what I was thinking. Like seeing a young Ultra-Orthodox married couple, and she was so, so young. I felt like going over to her and asking - "what are you? Like 16 or something?"

Later on a nutcase came on the bus with tons of packages. She was blabbering to herself and crying, even though from looking at her, she looked quite pretty and put together, with rings on all her fingers. People were being nice and trying to help her, but she was totally wacko. I felt like telling her "Gee, I'm so glad there's someone crazier than me on this bus."

Taking the 2nd bus home, there was standing room only. Some young woman kept on stubbing my toes with her heels - I felt like telling her "Don't you dare step on me again with your Russian high heels...." I knew she was Russian.

And last night, while Hubby was sleeping on the couch, falling asleep while watching Fox News, someone crept in and stole his briefcase with his car keys, ID card, business papers, etc. He woke me up at 2:30 am totally devastated.

"My whole LIFE is in that bag!!"

After searching the entire house, I concluded that Hubby was right in that it was stolen. We took a very early am walk (in my nightdress, mind you) through the park - perhaps the thief threw the useless-for-him briefcase in the bushes. We walked around the back of our place, and peeked in the trash can. Nothing.

He called the police and guess what? It was waiting for him there. They found it a few blocks away near the mall. Minus his cellphone and checkbook and ATM card. Stupid thief. He didn't bother stealing our car, even though the car keys were there. He took shit he wouldn't be able to use because the checks were cancelled as well as the ATM card and the cellphone. Now what will Stupid Thief do with all these things? The cash was with me, fuckwad!! Heh heh! And I never leave it on the diningroom table.

So I'm partially working on like 3 hours of sleep. I'm OK, though. But I'm so tired that I told my 16 year old that she can have 2 of her friends from Haifa over for the rest of the week. These kids aren't having too much fun these days. They've been spending their vacation in bomb shelters and I thought Jerusalem might be just the vacation resort it was always meant to be... Plus I could use a few good deeds up my way.

What War??

Shel Booli Restaurant in the Machane Yehuda shuk - Jerusalem

For those of you thinking I'm cowering in a bomb shelter while planes are flying overhead....nah. War's not for me. And besides you can all read about it in the papers and watch that shit on tv. I'm fed up with wars and warriors and of course you all know how miserable this all makes me.

Jerusalem felt normal yesterday and people just went about their business on Fridays. For some - that meant shopping. For me - that meant eating. I found a great little gem in the Machane Yehuda shuk called "Shel Booli". The owner, a cancer survivor, makes healthy sandwiches and salads and they are half the price of what you would find at a regular joint.


Great salads..on "happy" plates

Check this salad out and the plates my friend and I called Happy Plates. I think it was the colors of the plates that put us in a great mood aside from the great tasting food.

Righteous Ogre

Ogres scare people. Like Shrek. Outside they terrify everybody, but inside, they're wonderful people. You just have to get to know them.

My boss died this week. Suddenly. He wasn't young, but I was sure he'd live to around 100 years old and never retire. I was sure I'd retire before him. And it is difficult for me and anyone who has worked in my office to bounce back to work - and we were told we can have a week's respite in order to mourn.

We used to come in at 7:30 in the morning and he'd be waiting impatiently for us to begin our day's routine. Now nothing. No routine.

He was difficult to work for but I managed and looked beyond the pettiness of me not being able to write my own e-mails and him checking every word that I did write on my own, and not rustling papers lest it disturb his train of thought, never being allowed to leave the office in case he'd "need" me for something, never being allowed to work for anyone else who needed my "English language" expertise, because he may need me at the same time, and I even learned to lie to him about my computer crashing, and printers not working, telling him it's better if this was typed on another computer or printed on another printer because it would be quicker - because he'd get hysterical if there was ever a lapse in the running of equipment here. I'd type list after list for him - personal and work-related of things to do, of which he'd get to only 1/3 of them, if he were lucky. And I'd never dare take a sick day or be late 5 minutes. That would surely be my demise. Plus, he'd scream and yell at the receptionists for all kinds of very minor infractions, like disconnecting a phone call, or not being at their desk even for a moment. When he'd leave the office we'd gather together and have coffee at the front desk for a few minutes of chit chat, only to scatter like cockroaches when we'd see him coming back in.

But there was another side to him, like the time he treated me and his secretary to a fancy lunch at the King David Hotel, for no reason at all. Every time he barked at me, he'd always apologize 10 minutes later, and compiment me on my work. Every time I was distressed for personal reasons, his laser would pick it up and he'd know something was wrong. Sometimes I'd tell him, sometimes not. One time last year, when I was walking around without any money for weeks, and feeling quite depressed about it, he found out about my situation and gave me and a fellow coworker who was a close friend, some money to go to see a wonderful movie playing at the Jerusalem Theater. He was raving about it and asked me if I'd go to see it.

"I won't be able to go to the movies for a while" I told him.

"Here" he said, dishing out some money for popcorn, a taxi and 2 tickets. "I want you to see it tonight."

You couldn't refuse a gift from him.

Last week I found myself thrown off a bus because all I had was a counterfeit coin. I was 10 minutes late to work because I had to walk. His secretary told him what happened, and later that morning handed me a 50 shekel bill which she said was from her. I had a feeling it was from him.

Yesterday, I told her I wanted to pay her back the money.

She told me "Give it to charity in his name."

"He gave me the money, didn't he?"

She nodded. "He didn't want you to know it was from him."

But I knew. And I wasn't the only one he did stuff like this to. There were many others.

I will miss him terribly. Rest in peace, Mr. Boss.

Jerusalem Cinemateque - at dusk

Jerusalem Film Festival

I couldn't get tickets for the opening night at the beautiful outdoor venue of Sultan's Pool, next to the walls of the Old City, but that never fazes me. First of all, it has been my tradition for years to stand at one certain gate and ask passerbys if they have extra tickets. They always have extras. Either for free or for sale. Even more exciting for me was the fact that Hubby said he would join me, which is a rarity. I usually do all these things alone or with friends or with daughters. So I wanted this to especially work.

An hour before the show I parked myself in my spot, even getting pessimistic comments from people like "forget about it" when I told them I was trying to get into a sold-out show. I probably even walked up to a few VIPs I didn't know were VIPs, like Atom Egoyan, the director, who was here from Toronto or the Canadian producer whose name I forgot, even Debra Winger whom I didn't recognize until they announced her on stage, asking them for tickets and getting laughed at while commenting - "yeah, for $500 I'll sell it to you." I did an eyeroll for them. Really. This is not a fucking Stones concert.

I felt like one of those Jerusalem Beggars asking for money on the street. I am a yearly Jerusalem Film Festival Opening beggar for sure.

After about 25 minutes, droves of people came in and among them 2 different kindly souls who handed me their extra ticket which I didn't have to pay for. God is kind!!
Especially so, since we are a bit tight on cash, and I was going to blow my last wad on 2 tickets.

The weather was getting cool, and Hubby mocked me for bringing a jacket, as it was unbearably hot during the day. But being a seasoned Opening goer I nearly froze to death 2 years ago when they showed Heroes and swore I'd never go through that again, no matter how hot it gets during the day. I felt bad for Hubby, though. I knew he was going to shiver.

We sat through 1 1/2 hours of a performance by a band called Atlantic, who did shitty covers of the Stones, Animals and other 60's oldies, but did wonderful on popular Israeli songs. And the speeches were short but plentiful. This director, that producer, this politician, that politician, etc. And I was surprised to see Jeff Goldblum there, looking quite handsome.

"We could eat sushi with him at the after-party" I told Hubby. I was successful last year in standing by the gates of the party after the movie asking for extra invites. One person handed me two. I could swing it this year. But as the weather got colder, I figured none of us will want to eat sushi with Debra Winger and Jeff Goldblum. I pitied her looking at how she was dressed with a sleeveless, summery top. Had no one warned her about the chilly Jerusalem evenings either?

The movie shown was the first Israeli film to be shown on opening night. Someone to Run With. I had no idea what it was about, but if it had subtitles, Hubby can follow along. Turned out we both thoroughly enjoyed the movie about Jerusalem's wayward youth, with a good plot to boot. I even recognized a few of the extras as downtown regulars who hang out.

Halfway through the movie Hubby was too cold to sit and went up the stairs for a hot beverage and to walk around to warm up.

The next day a friend of mine and I saw another movie from the Festival called Ticket to Heaven - an old one (1981) about Moonies and how they deprogrammed this guy who got sucked into the cult.

People seem to be so forthcoming and happy during festival week. And everyone chatted with everyone on line at the ticket counter when I wanted to exchange some tickets for other movies.

I saw someone I knew at the Cinemateque's coffee shop who handed me 2 free tickets to see a new Gypsy movie just added to the list of 300 films being shown during the Festival. She knew I was associated with the Gypsies here in Jerusalem. I was so happy to get another gift.

While my friend rushed in to see another movie where we were offered, yet again, free entrance (to fill up empty seats), I headed back home to reality - Shabbat was coming and someone needs to feed the family.

Counterfeits

I'm having a really awful bad quality moment - or shall I say a few bad quality moments.

My boss rushed me into work yesterday and I took the bus thinking I would take the 2nd bus inside Jerusalem to get to my work instead of walking 25 minutes. It would speed things up greatly. I handed the bus driver a 10 shekel coin and he looks at it.

"It's not real"

"Whaddya mean it's not real. It's a coin!"

"I'm sorry, I can't take this coin. You'll have to give me other coins"

Well, I had no other coins and no other bills. I'm flat broke. I got off the bus, half humiliated, and walked the rest of the way to work, calling my frantic boss to tell him I'll be 10 minutes late because of a counterfeit coin - which was all the money I had in the world.

Meanwhile, my kids were supposed to close a deal on an apartment they bought the other day and the lawyer they hired told them the builder "slipped in" a few papers she had never seen before, holding them responsible for the rest of the mortgage or having to lose whatever they deposited should the builder go bankrupt. They had been sitting in the office for 3 hours, ready to sign the deal, when voila. They were told by their lawyer not to sign until the other side gets their shit together. What a "bassa"(disappointment).

Back to the counterfeit stuff - I went to one of the stores that may have given me the bad coin. The salesperson immediately gave me a good coin in its place and we figured out together how to notice a fraudulent one.

In a 10 shekel coin - the fakes are lighter and the side is not uniformly lined. It looks sloppy.

In a 5 shekel coin - it looks exactly the same except for the sides again. The fake is rounder and the real ones are octagon-like.

So beware out there of these evil coins.

This morning, hoping for a better day - I got a loan from a friend so I can go to the opening of the Jerusalem Film Festival tonight, which has been my tradition for the past 6 years or so, I put on my funky pants from India, got into Hubby's car, and heard "rrrrrriipp" somewhere. The entire upper side of these lovely but awful quality pants were ripped. Thankfully, I'm wearing a knee-high top so it covers the rip, otherwise I'd look like some bag lady with ripped clothing near her behind or - maybe it's in fashion somewhere in the world.

Picnics and touch football and fireworks later that evening - July 4th - Jerusalem

Dressing for the occasion - July 4th - Jerusalem

US and Canadian expats - going for the food

July 4th - Jerusalem

Mideast Youth

I was asked to write for this up-and-coming great website. I jumped at the chance, not only because I was flattered at being asked to write for it, and having some great moments of being read by mostly Arab readers, but because it was for Middle East Youth.

"Me? Youth?"

OK, I'm way beyond my youth years, but nevertheless, if someone thinks I'm cool enough to write for some of the "youth" in this world - I'm in.

plum trees - Beit Umma

the road down the wadi

Tractor ride down to the wadi - Beit Umma

women in Jawawis

a cave in jawawis

unloading the hay

prayer time at Jawawis