Going to Get Firewood

It was only 4 and a half months ago that I boarded a sherut; tired, confused, excited for my new adventure. The sherut driver shouted at me in Hebrew and amiable Yeshiva boys translated for me. A religious woman laughed when he addressed me and explained that he had addressed me as one would a married woman, based on the assumption that the bright bandana I had donned to cover my dirty, frizzy hair actually was an indication that I was married.

Now I sit in the airport again, experiencing very different emotions. I know to where I am returning, to the loving arms that I will get to run into sooner than I can imagine. My adventure has been had, a new place explored. Out of it, I have emerged someone changed, maybe wiser, certainly with eyes much more open to the world and all it has to teach me. What I do not know is how I will, as I am now, fit back into my two homes. Will I? It is a question that has kept me up at night.

Random things about Israel

Corn is on everything. It is what they sell on the streets, like cotton candy and/or pretzels. My friend had a tuna and corn sandwich. Note: learn how to say words of vegetables. Because friend could only say tuna, this is what he got.

People just sit in their cars randomly. They stare at you. Sometimes they are eating. Sometimes they are preparing for a nap. Sometimes they are just sitting there. So they can stare at you.

No one buys kleenex. You see people carrying around toilet paper rolls in their cars, in restaurants, in class. Actually, very smart. Who needs the propriety of kleenex anyways?

An argument or problem has occurred. It may concern two people, say the ticket checker and someone with an expired ticket on the train. Within the span of 20 seconds, half the train car will be participating in the conversation, vehemently arguing for one side or the other. Remember the beginning scene of "Fiddler on the Roof"? Not an exaggeration.

Time? Doesn't really matter. If the train station says the train may arrive in 17 minutes, it could be true. Or the train could arrive in the next two minutes and the only way you know is that you will see the signs flashing "Vehicle in Station" as the train whizzes by you.

It's All About the Experience

When you go to a restaurant in Israel, your experience will be quite different than the one you are used to if you are from the United States. You may or may not be approached to be seated. Often, you will be allowed to choose your table and only once you have sat down will you be spoken to by a waiter. They will gladly bring you the menu and take the order, but you must remember to ask for water as it will not be automatically given to you (there is a water shortage here, dontchaknow?). When you have placed your order, the necessary utensils will then be given to you. Your food will be brought quickly and, regardless of whether you are eating at a fancy restaurant or a cafe, the food will usually be presented very professionally. You will be asked how your food is and then you will be left alone. The waiters will come to pick up your plates if they see you have finished, but they will not then proceed to place the bill on the table. You can sit, talk, drink a coffee, stare off into space for however long you would like and they will never once hurry you in any way. No dirty looks will be given to you if you linger for hours without ordering anything else, you are free to enjoy your stay in the restaurant for as long as you desire. The bill will only be given to you when you ask for it.

As someone from the States (meaning: very shy when it comes to talking about money in any shape or form and someone used to being sped out of restaurants so that they can have as many customers as possible in order to make the maximum amount of money), this was very difficult for me to get used to.

But if there is anything I have learned during my time in Israel, it is that it really is all about the experience. What is, you may ask. Everything. Everything is about the experience.

Nine Nights of Hanukkah

After our fabulous Christmas celebrations we were, well, very full. We also knew that we had to begin planning for our Hanukah celebrations!
Sufganiyot appeared in stores 2 whole months ago (I suppose this is the Jewish equivalent to putting out Christmas decorations after Thanksgiving, as they were put out after all the major fall holidays). These are fried donuts filled with deliciousness. The most basic, and my favorites, are filled with strawberry jam. They can also be filled with halva, dulce de leche, chocolate or really anything else. They can be covered in frosting, sprinkles, chocolate. There are also savory sufganiyot which I have heard are fabulous. Huge hanukiahs/hanukiot have appeared all over town. However, hanukah really isn't a big holiday. It is enough to get us a few days off from school, to garner some hanukah-lights around town and the smell of fried food in the air. But, life does not stop for hanukah.
Of course we had to celebrate it though! We had been lighting the hanukiahs every night and singing the prayers. Yet, the only available night to actually celebrate was the day after Hanukah had ended. Oh well!

Havdalah: All Things Must Come to an End

Shabbat has always been my favorite Jewish holiday. When I went to interfaith classes to learn about being Jewish, the cantor taught us that it is the most important holiday in Judaism. It was the only holiday my family really ever tried to adhere to. We spent Shabbats sans electricity, sans cars, sans work of any sort (quite a difficult task for a high school girl with a social life). Shabbat became my favorite holiday. My Dad would make golden brown challah for dinner, we would light the candles and say the only blessings I ever really learned. The comfortable, simple blessings over the wine and the bread became my own because of their repetition, unlike the rest of Jewish tradition which I often felt had been left out of my DNA.