The website has its beginnings at http://pluto.huji.ac.il/~osaaronh/index.htm . Sorry about the ugly URL.

We're in Ashdod right now, and have a whopper of a story that makes all other Israeli bureaucracy stories seem tame. That is for tomorrow, when we get back to Jerusalem. Happy Hallowe'en, all.
- posted by @ 7:40 PM

 
Just so everyone knows, we're doing okay over here. Actually, here we are doing very well. I registered for classes today, and the final list is: Hebrew 3, Arabic 1, Cross-currents and influences between Judaism and Islam, the State and Society in the Medieval Islamic World, and The Victory of Surrender: The Rise of Islam in the Middle East.

Incidentally, the Professor for that last class told a story that is perhaps the funniest thing I have ever heard. At his request, I will not publicize it, so email me to hear it, if you like. It is absolutely worthwhile.
- posted by @ 6:30 PM

 
I'm at school right now. It's been a very tough morning.

Again, I'm not going to post personal information here; for everyone, know that we are doing okay and are in good health, and generally good spirits. Everything here is going very well. To my family, we both love you very much, and hope for some easy times ahead. Such times have been in way too short a supply lately.

I will update on life here tomorrow.
- posted by @ 10:38 AM

 
More classes today. Another Hebrew, another Arabic. I have a quiz tomorrow in Arabic, but only on words that are comprised entirely of the letters A, B, W, Y, and N. That's the only reason I know how to say, "My son is a doorman" or "Where is Abu Ayyab's statement?" With a nod to Eddie Izzard, these are the kind of things that will be very difficult to work into regular conversation.

The first car problems today. After my classes were done, I got into the Shtinker, started him up, backed out of the spot and, because it was warm in the car, turned on the AC. At that point, the Shtinker proved that its true colors are Kachol v'lavan (blue and white) and did what any self-respecting Israeli would do: he went on strike. I'm glad I was still in the parking lot, though I was blocking traffic and had blocked a couple of cars in their parking spaces. Not only was the Shtinker on strike, but he had formed his own picket line. I could almost hear him yell, in the voice of that student from yesterday, "EIN cheshmal hayom, v'AF ECHAD lo y'naheg!" ("There is NO power today, and NOBODY is going to drive!" I put the car in neutral and rolled it to a place where traffic could get through. Then a nice student stopped her car and got out her cables. It took some serious flooring of the gas peddle, but eventually the strike was broken and the Shtinker sputtered reluctantly to life. I let the car sit for a few minutes before driving home. All this meant was that I didn't have any time to work out, but that's okay; I'll make up for it tomorrow.

Tonight we made our first real cooking dinner (two Indian chicken dishes and a salad), and used the washing machine for the first time. It was a little scary, since we don't know exactly what each of the settings does, but we took the chance that the washer didn't have an "incinerate" setting. Our clothes are hanging to dry (nobody uses a dryer in Israel).

I'm exhausted now; I had an 8 AM class, which meant that I was up by 6 (actually I woke up even earlier, which afforded me the chance to hear the Avalanche lose to Buffalo first thing in the morning). So, I'm going to make my lunch for tomorrow, and then it's off to bed. Happy trails, all.
- posted by @ 10:07 PM

 
I had my first day of classes today, and I have to say that it went pretty well, if interestingly. I dropped Elana off at 8:30, and then headed up to Mount Scopus to work out. On the way, I heard the strangest radio show. It was in English, and clearly a man who is usually a musician; he was talking about this album he was putting together. At one point he stopped and said, in a funny voice, "I guess it doesn't matter what I say since nobody is listening to me anyway. So, for the two of you out there..." and he then went OFF on "the Palestinian Problem" and the necessity for a "Final Solution" (I couldn't believe a Jew was using this terminology, and it was obviously on purpose). His "solution" was to flatten all their villages and expel them to Saudi Arabia. Then, as if the topic had not even been addressed, he changed gears again to the difficulty of finding a good order for songs on an album.

When I arrived at the gym, it was closed, if you can believe that...it didn't open until 11. This presented a problem, as I had counted on working out and showering there, so I hadn't showered in the morning. I drove all the way back to the apartment for a quick shower (which afforded me the opportunity to discover that it's usually a bad idea to start a CD with a Yiddish song anywhere but Beitar Illit, an Orthodox Yiddish speaking area on the outskirts of Jerusalem), got back in the car, and returned to Mount Scopus for my first class, Arabic.

I got as far as the security checkpoint before the day got truly interesting. A picket line of students was refusing everyone entry into the University. Apparently this is something that happens every year...the students strike on the first day of class to protest rising tuition costs, and then go to classes the next day or the day after that. I tried to get past them, and one said in a loud voice, "EIN limudim hayom, v'AF ECHAD lo yikanes!" which means, "There are NO classes today, and NOBODY is going to get in!" I happened to know that the International School was not on strike, so I said the magic words (in this case, "I am at the International School") and the picket line parted to let me in. I never imagined it would be so easy to cross a picket line.

Arabic was pretty interesting, and should afford me quite the challenge. We've already learned five letters, and three of them (B, N, and Y) are the same, except with different dots. I also met a guy there who knows a friend of mine from Chicago (Keely, if you read this, I'll tell you all about it), which was certainly unexpected. I had a fifteen minute break between Arabic and Hebrew. I was a little concerned that the Hebrew they put me into was too high for me, but it turned out to be just the right level. Our teacher, Chen (female) dressed like a punk rocker. Dyed black hair in a rooster cut with a rat tail, black clothes, seven thousand bracelets on each arm, and eyeliner out to her temples. Tomorrow I have another Hebrew teacher (the two are splitting the teaching duties). I'd bet she dresses quite Victorian...good cop, bad cop.

Here is a little funny story, and a way in which my life has now come full circle. Most of you know that my real name is Aaron, not Ari, and that Ari is a nickname. It derives from the fact that there were an inordinate number of Aarons (five or six out of twelve, I think) in my preschool class, and I selected the name Ari to make it easier on the teacher, and it stuck. Now, in these two classes that I had today, the opposite has happened. There is another Ari in both classes, so, to make it easier on the teachers, I told them just to call me Aaron (or Ahron, in Hebrew) to make it easier.

After classes ended, I took advantage of the fact that none of the Israeli students were in class today to buy my Arabic textbook, which is a good thing because it was clearly in limited supply; there were four left when I got mine. Then I returned home.

Elana just got in from a very good day at JSS. The one-week seminar with Cunningham is over. She says he's such a cute old man and she really enjoyed his sessions. She felt good about what she did today, and Cunningham said a bunch of nice stuff to her. When we get the website set up, I'll be posting some images of her work. Most of you in the U.S. are just waking up now, so good morning, and have a good Sunday. Enjoy the fact that where you are, it's a day off.


- posted by @ 3:44 PM

 
Classes start tomorrow. It's so strange to say that, but there it is. I have decided on the classes I am taking: Arabic 1, Hebrew 3, The Rise of Islam in the Middle East, the Medieval Islamic State, and Cross-Cultural Similarities between Islam and Judaism. In case nobody has guessed, I am going for the MA in Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies.

The hard part: I need to learn three years of Arabic in two years. This will probably mean a summer course next summer, and who knows whether that will happen here or in the U.S. I'm not too worried about it, though.

I had a meeting the other day with my academic advisor, Dr. Shaham, who knows Professor Nakash, who was the quite dry lecturer I had at Brandeis for my Makings of a Modern Middle East course, and who was on the committee to whom I defended my Honors Thesis. Incidentally, that was the second time that day that Professor Nakash came up, after being out of my thoughts basically since I graduated: Tom Friedman mentioned him in his editorial in the New York Times. I mentioned this to Dr. Shaham, and I hope he was duly impressed when I was able to summarize the article and toss in a few thoughts of my own. For the rest of the story, which is completely unrelated to Professor Nakash, he asked me about my thesis, my goals, and my background. He then suggested courses for me to take. That Rise of Islam course is actually an undergraduate course for which I will receive no credit, but he said it is important to have the background, and I agree with him.

The class I am most nervous about is Arabic, which doesn't make a lot of sense, since I have always been pretty good at languages and I am not expected to know even the curses, which of course I do. So I guess I am actually a little bit ahead. Still, though, just looking at the written language, it seems very hard to distinguish between the letters...honestly, it just looks like scribbling on all the road signs, and I worry about the prospect of successfully learning to read. But I'm sure all will go well.

Tomorrow Elana has another session with this Francis "Dick" Cunningham, who is a guest teacher all week. She is really enjoying his perspective and lectures.

This past weekend, we were back in Ashdod, visiting Grisha and Valya and all your old favorites. Then, today, we drove to Petach Tikva to have lunch with Izya, and some more of his relatives, who were all very nice. In Elana's words, all her family here "adores" me, which certainly makes me feel good. We got some great pictures, which we will post as soon as Hebrew University gets its act together regarding my internet account.

So, tomorrow, for Elana, it's to JSS; for me, to the gym and to classes. A momentous day, truly: the beginning of routine. More tomorrow, after all the fun.
- posted by @ 10:48 PM

 
I hate computers. I don't really, especially now that I've got this network set up. But it took waaaaay too long, and I have a splitting headache now. I won't bore you all with the mundane details of the technobabble, mostly because I don't understand them. But it had something to do with IP addresses and static and dynamic, and network bridges and adapters and whatever. But now, I'm sitting at our dining room table, connected to the internet totally wirelessly. I do have a temptation to call D-Link and tell them they can shove their "Quick Installation Guide."

Anyway, a long entry was promised, so here it is. I'm going to go in chronological order, beginning with last Monday (one day after we got our keys).

We were planning to move in that day, but we knew there would be one thing weighing on our minds in Ashdod: the friendliest stray dog in the world, whom we named Tuxedo, in honor of his black coat, white belly and white paws. I was not going to tell this story if it did not have a happy ending. He was six months old, a lab/dalmatian mix, and he adopted Elana's relatives' complex as a new home. He had a collar, but there were no signs of the owner. We had gone outside one day and started playing with him, and had a great time; it wasn't until we talked to the owners of the house on the corner, who had been giving him food and water, that we discovered he was a stray. Every day we made some time for Tux, and asked all our friends and relatives if they wanted a dog, or if they knew any dog-seekers. Sadly, nobody did. We were almost at the point where we would have taken him ourselves, if our apartment allowed it and we weren't leaving Israel within a couple of years. The situation had some urgency, too: some of the neighbors didn't like the idea of a stray dog, however cute and friendly, prowling around the area (though Tux didn't "prowl" so much as "lazily loll about"). Their recourse would be to call animal control, which is of course a death sentence for a stray dog. There were a couple of times we thought someone would take him, only to be disappointed; the first, a man who drove in from Tel Aviv, turned his nose up at Tux because he was a mut; the second, a group of kids in a nearby park, actually got mom's approval to keep the dog before she was vetoed by dad. We resigned ourself to leaving Tux in the care of the neighbors and fate.

Then, something almost miraculous happened. Without any particular motivation, I was seized by an urge to go check on the dog. Elana was not there; she was at the cemetary, repainting the faded letters on her great-grandparents' tombstones. This is something one does in Israel. I filled up a water dish and took it outside, only to find a somewhat menacing-looking, non-descript van with two men regarding the dog somewhat suspiciously. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that it must be animal control, here to take poor, friendly Tux away. "Is this your dog?" asked the older man, the driver, in Hebrew. Unable to lie (and especially to produce any proof that I owned the dog), I muttered, "No, he doesn't have a home." I heard the second man say, "So this is the dog they called us about." He nodded toward the back of the van, apparently signaling a third animal control employee to grab the dog. I braced myself for what would happen next, as my mind raced through a series of desperate gambits to save Tux. The door swung open, and out jumped...a ten- or eleven- year old boy in a David Beckham soccer jersey. This was my first clue that perhaps these men were not from animal control, after all.

Quite the opposite. As it turns out, they were from Haifa, and they had heard about the dog from the boss of the neighbor in the corner house. I love Israel, all these connections! The boy's name was Boaz, and the two men were his father and his grandfather. His grandfather, as it turns out, is a professor of physics at the University of Haifa, where my dad taught when I was in first grade. He had been at some other University at the time, and did not know my dad. None of them spoke any English, but the father kept repeating, over and over, "AI-zeh Cha-mud!" which means, "What a cutie!" Any reservations I had about them being from animal control vanished (it shouldn't have taken that long, should it?). Boaz played with Tux (he had clearly had dogs before, because he didn't freak out, as some did, when Tux affectionately bit his arm) and gave him meat, which Tux was only too happy to inhale. I told him his name, and explained what a Tuxedo is because I didn't know the word in Hebrew; when Boaz got it, he laughed and started repeating, "Tuxedo! Tuxedo! Abba, I want to name him Tuxedo, too!" I gave Tux a quick belly rub, then watched him jump into the van with Boaz, who continued to laugh. They drove off, and Tux was on his way to a good home in Haifa. Elana returned to find me jumping up and down at the top of the stairs, repeating, "Doggy found a home! Doggy found a home!" So then we did our happy dance. Don't ask.

We packed up the Shtinker, and were quickly on our way to our own good home in Jerusalem. We arrived with no problems, moved in, unpacked, and made a huge shopping trip at a nearby store. We bought all of the essentials, a few treats, and lots of fruits and veggies. We went to bed exhausted.

The next day, Tuesday...yesterday...was Elana's first day of class. I walked with her to her school, saw her into the building, and then went home to order internet and cable. I comparison shopped all the options (Bezeq DSL or Arutzei Zahav cable), and the cable gave the best deal if I bought it in conjunction with cable television. I then chose a service provider after shopping around those for a while. Then, I was off to Hebrew University to register.

The University was nothing like I was expecting. I think, after Brandeis, I had this expectation that college campuses have to be very ugly. This one is glorious. It has a breathtaking view, which I will post on my soon-to-be-created website, of Arab East Jerusalem (not to worrry; security is good). All the buildings are Jerusalem Stone (as is every building in Jerusalem, by civic law), and are all wonderfully constructed. I parked the car, walked through security, and headed towards the Rothberg School, where I will study. First, I got my ID card (I fortuitously had an extra passport picture in my little bag), then took care of registering and all that. I was done in about an hour and a half, so I decided to go take care of getting health insurance. This involved a fifteen minute walk to just off campus (well, fifteen if you go directly; I think I circled the University twice before I found it), and a simple signup. I had already paid as part of my tuition. I then decided to try to get a parking permit; after being redirected to five or six different people in three different buildings, I found out that you buy them in the Academon Kol-Bo (which literally means, "Student Store With Everything In It"), but they are not on sale until November 1. I then decided to take a walk to the gym, which was a mistake; it was past the health insurance building, and even the security guards didn't know where it was (or elected not to tell me). I found it, walked in, and decided to sign up for membership. This was also a relatively painless process with my new student ID...until they handed me the sheet I needed a doctor to fill out. I didn't have a doctor. They suggested I could use the University's doctor, so I went back to the insurance building and had no trouble getting this taken care of, either. Odd thing, though; they needed to give me a cardiogram. I guess the gym doesn't take chances. It is a beautiful gym, and I drove back, parked in the lot (now that I was a member) and turned in my sheet. Then, I drove home.

We had simple soup for dinner, and again went to bed exhausted. We have been going to bed early and waking up early, which is totally weird for us.

This morning, Elana had another class session. She has had a special instructor the last two days, who will be here for the rest of the week: Francis (Dick) Cunningham (yes, he's called Dick. No, we don't know why). He is a big fish, the founder of the New York Academy, and Israel Hershberg's teacher. Cunningham, in turn, had studied with Edwin Dickinson, who was himself a pupil and main assistant of Charles Hawthorne, the art king of Cape Cod and father of the color spot painting tradition. She is already receiving the types of critiques she was thirsty for, and couldn't be happier with the school. (Interesting note: when she tells people that she is studying art, the immediate response is, "At Bezalel?" referring to the art school that everyone has heard of. And when she says "No," they figure she couldn't get in. As it happens, she does study with some members of the Bezalel faculty; they happen to students at JSS, like her. So ha). She just walked in from a lecture this Cunningham gave tonight on his own work and theories. She's exhausted, but thoroughly satisfied.

After the cable guy came and installed everything this morning, Elana came home for lunch with two ladies who are also students. We're so used to saying "girls" and "guys" for our peers, it is strange to say "ladies;" but you can't exactly call a 30-year-old and a 55-year-old "girls." It's strange that these are our peers. We had lunch, and when they returned to JSS, I went back to Hebrew University today with the express purpose of signing up for a username and working out at the gym. My registration had not gone through to the computer system yet, so that was a no-go; I did get the email address of my academic advisor, who I am meeting tomorrow. I then went and worked out, and had a good workout; this is a fantastic gym.

Afterwards, I came home, and arrived at the same time as Elana. We lounged for a while, had dinner, and caught up on all our internetting. Then, while she was at the aforementioned lecture, I went to Office Depot (in the nearby mall) and bought the aforementioned network; after that, I stopped by at Home Center to buy a cutting board and an S-Video/RCA cord so that we can watch DVDs on our TV through my computer. I got home, and set up the network. The setup complete, I sat down to write this blog. I began: "I hate computers..."
- posted by @ 11:23 PM

 
This is just going to be a short entry, to let everyone know the following:

1. We are moved in, have internet and cable (more details to follow).

2. Elana has officially started at JSS (more details to follow).

3. I am registered at Hebrew University (more details to follow).

4. I am working on a web page (more details to follow).

5. We helped a stray dog find a home (more details to follow). Now, it's off to clean up quickly and head out to my (beautiful) new gym (more details to follow).
- posted by @ 12:59 PM

 
Hi again, everybody. Today was a long day. We drove to Jerusalem again, and we now have our keys. We are moving all of our stuff tomorrow, and Valya gave us the few things the apartment lacks: some good new bedsheets and linens, and some big towels, a big down comforter, and a few decorative things. She was with us today in Jerusalem and saw the apartment, and congratulated Micha on everything being "Teep-Top." It's great to have such support.

I also managed to (finally) contact Hebrew University; I am going in tomorrow or Tuesday to take care of registering for classes and all that good stuff. We'll see how long moving in takes. We aren't rushing, especially now that we've got the time. Elana's school starts for real on Tuesday.

My Visa card was temporarily suspended, because apparently if you don't tell them you are traveling, they view any purchase in a foreign country as "suspicious." Imagine. It took five minutes to clear up the confusion.

Driving is much more of a hassle here than I originally thought. For one thing, people are crazy, indeed. Today a man pulled out in front of me (I was going straight, and he was making a right). If he had continued to go, there would have been no problem. If he had stopped earlier, again, it would have been fine. Instead, he pulled out into the intersection, stopped dead in my path, and then turned to look. I at least had the pleasure of seeing the startled expression on his face when I honked the horn, and skidded to a stop mere meters from where his car sat, totally defenseless, against the Shtinker's potential onslaught. Also, a word about the lanes. They are apparently much more amorphous than in the U.S.; think of them as less of a "law" and more as a "polite suggestion." Which, it turns out, is the only polite thing about Israeli society, near as I can tell. Israelis are great, giving people, with warm hearts, courage, drive and determination. But polite they are not.

To my family: We both love you very much, and are thinking about you constantly.
- posted by @ 8:33 PM

 
I had a feeling, when the Red Sox won game 6, that it was only to add to the lore. I woke up this morning and was disappointed to learn about the 11th inning loss. Unbelievable.

I figured out what happened, though. The Red Sox and the Cubs just weren't ever meant to get this far in the same year. So, the Curse Gods had their hands full. First they dispatched the Cubs by sending an evil fan to the friendly confines, and then had just enough energy to make sure the Red Sox were eliminated. Close calls, indeed. At least I never have to look at Roger Clemens again, since I don't plan on waking up at 3 AM to watch a Florida-New York series. Had Boston made it, my alarm would have been set.

So, let us all join forces and pray for the Colorado Rockies' brothers-in-expansion, the Florida Marlins. Another Yankees championship will make me ill.

Here, things are moving. Specifically, we are moving in on Sunday. We are very excited to be in our own place, and even more excited to be in Jerusalem. Stay tuned.
- posted by @ 3:47 PM

 
Yesterday we went to Jerusalem to open a bank account. We parked near the apartment, walked a couple of blocks to Bank Leumi, and met with a rather snooty lady who told us, "Well, you're not Israeli, so you can't open an account here. You must go to the King George Street branch." What? We drove all the way here for you to tell us that? There was more. "You won't get there in time. It's almost 11:30 and we close at 12:00." Okay. Instead of heading to King George Street, we walked next door to Bank Hapoalim, where we had no trouble opening up a checking account. It took about half an hour, they were pleasant, and blessedly unbureaucratic. Eat that, Bank Leumi.

We then decided we had to rent The Princess Bride and Ferris Bueller's Day Off, to complete Elana's cousins' education (somehow they had never seen either). We had to drive to the City Centre to find an actual video store instead of an automated video deposit (think coke machine, but for movie rentals). We succeeded in renting The Princess Bride, but they did not have Ferris Bueller, so we rented Moulin Rouge instead; then we drove past Ashdod to Ashqelon to go to a restaurant Elana's cousin Liat, who was with us, recommended. It was delicious, and the Shtinker got a free car wash in the bargain. It felt good to eat out for once (something we sadly cannot make a habit of). Then, we drove back to Ashdod, and watched the Princess Bride, which is always a big hit.

Today, my closest childhood friend Jacob called my cellphone from his Yeshiva in Gush Etzion. It was good to talk to him again, even if only for a few minutes. For reasons I won't go into here (not because I want to be cryptic or fish for "what's going on?" comments--I don't--but because this is something that I don't want to talk about in this type of a public forum) the last 24 hours or so have been very difficult. This was a comfort, indeed.

Interesting note. Someone else I, and many of you, know, is studying at the same Yeshiva with him, and when Jacob, Elana, and I get together, I hope to see him, too. For those of you wondering what Seth Panzer did after graduation, wonder no longer.
- posted by @ 7:49 PM

 
This entry is going to kind of update a whole bunch of random things that I have not included, for whatever reason.

First of all, a little funny aside about the apartment: the neighborhood it is in is called Arnona, which, perhaps coincidentally, is also the term for the municipality tax one pays on flat rental. So we live in the Municipality Tax neighborhood.

Last Saturday, Elana's cousin (again a generic term; I'm not even sure exactly how this one is related) Boris, or Borya for short, took me with him to a Kibbutz outside of Ashdod to play soccer with his friends. Not a one of them (including Borya) speaks any English. It was fortunate for me that our team had too many people, and I was sent to the bench to start the game. It was not, as Borya originally described it, "not competitive, but only for fun; a game between friends!" Rather, the level of play was well beyond what I thought it would be. Borya, for example, was in his forties, but was a former member of the Moldovan National Team. And because he was in his forties, he was a little slow compared to the rest of them. I was still struggling with how exactly to kick the ball. So I wasn't disappointed when I played for only a couple of minutes at the end, and was positively relieved when the ball came nowhere near me for the entire time. The game ended in a 6-6 tie, and I left feeling like David Beckham, that not once had anyone scored a goal due to my mistake.

Today we drove to Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv in the Shtinker (a first long trip; I've decided I like driving here) to pick up Elana's Uncle Ze'ev (see previous posts) who was in Kazakhstan on business. At the airport, Elana noticed a fast-moving Israeli who dropped his sunglasses. She chased him all the way across the terminal, said gamely in her best Hebrew, "Uh...excuse me...uh...you...uh...you...here." Only to have him attempt to answer also in Hebrew, and then say hesitatingly, "Uh...do you speak English?" The Washington State native thanked her in perfect English. I also had my first Israeli fast food, Burger Ranch (or, as it is properly pronounced, "Booer-gehr Rahnzch"), which was actually quite good. It's more expensive than in the States, and the fries were disappointing, but the meat in the hamburgers was somewhere above the average Grade L meat they use in the States. We certainly won't make a habit of it, not with the wonderful fruits and veggies and humus they have here, but it gave me my hamburger fix for the month.

One last funny story, which I deliberately saved for last. Our cousin Eden is four years old; she is very precocious and cute, but can be somewhat vicious at times. To illustrate this last assertion, I offer the following anecdote:

Yesterday, in the afternoon, I was exhausted. Everyone gets exhausted here around 2 in the afternoon because of the heat, and that is what siesta is all about. Well, the sleepy bug bit me at about 3, as I was sitting and watching the Jungle Book in Hebrew with Eden (I couldn't figure out what it was until I heard "something something something SHERE KAHN something something BALOO v'MOWGLI"). So, anyway, my head started to droop, my eyes began to close, and I noticed that Eden, who was holding my hand, started to sing a nice, quiet lullaby in Hebrew. I smiled and thought how cute and sweet it was, and then I drifted off. Moments later, I was rudely awakened when Eden's hand, which apparently had been lifted in the air, came crashing down with a surely-satisfying SMACK on my belly. The sound of her giddy self-congratulatory laughter could surely be heard through half of Ashdod, and it rang in my ears until I managed to doze off on the sofa in the next room. Cute, indeed.
- posted by @ 8:18 PM

 
I had no idea when I woke up this morning exactly how productive today would be, and it is largely in thanks to Elana's cousin (read: Grandfather's mother's brother's son) Izya, who went above and beyond for us today.

At 10 AM we had our appointment with Micha to finalize the arrangement and give him all the information he needs to get the lease contract from the lawyers. I must say that he, too, improved in my esteem today, and the apartment looked even better. We arrived early, and after an abortive attempt to open a bank account at Bank Leumi (closed for Sukkot) made our way back to the apartment. On the way back, incidentally, we ran into a little orange cat with a black moustache (literally; I almost stepped on her) who was affection incarnate. Elana bent down to pet her, and she purred and rubbed against us and almost followed us. Fortunately, she did not. It was strange to see a stray cat (at least we assume it was stray) act so affectionately towards humans. But anyway. When we got to the apartment, Micha showed Izya and us around again, and then we got down to business. After everybody was happy, Micha took us to the promenade that is a five minute walk from the apartment. If you have ever seen a picture of Jerusalem, it was likely taken from there; you can see the whole city, and all the way to the Dead Sea on a clear day. It's quite a sight.

Izya then wanted to know what was up with the car, so I gave Ori a call and asked if we could come to Rishon (Izya works in Rishon Lezion) to pick up the car. He said yes, so we were on our way. It was good to see Ori again; it had been about ten years. The car looked much better after a wash, and it drives fine. Nonetheless, in that first impression it earned its new name: Shtinker. Izya gave us directions (in fact drove out of his way to make sure we got on the right road) and he went home, and we returned to Ashdod. Driving is not as stressful as I thought it would be. Sure, the drivers here are nuts, but driving is still just driving. You just have to be a little more paranoid, and make a few modifications. The guns are going to be fitted tomorrow, but we won't get the rocket launcher until after the holiday.

Honestly, that's not a bad motto for life here: you just have to be a little more paranoid. Life is not all that different from the U.S.; you simply must watch your back and fight for most of the minutiae. It can be exhausting.

When I get some webspace (hopefully from Hebrew U.) I will post some pictures of both the apartment and the Shtinker.
- posted by @ 5:38 PM

 
My hair is as short as it has been since I was seven.

I decided it was time for a haircut, and Alla was going to get one, so I tagged along. The barber didn't speak English, only Russian and a bit of Hebrew. I asked for a centimeter or so off the top, nothing too much. She regarded the top of my head as I imagine Michaelangelo regarded a giant slab of marble, and chopped off an inch and half from my bangs in one savage cut. At that point, there was little I could do but sit back and pray it would be even. It is, but I now look fifteen. It's not nearly as bad as I am making it sound; quite honestly, it will grow back quickly. And it's not even a bad haircut. It's just not my style. Either way, somehow life goes on.

I feel at this point I should mention some of the fun stuff we did last week. Elana's cousin Tova's boyfriend Zoar and his parents took us on a little excursion out to the Soreq region (named for its river). There are some truly awesome caves there that were a lot of fun to go to. Think Cave of the Winds, only cooler.

After that they took us to a nearby amusement park of sorts called "Mini Israel." The slogan is "The entire country in one small town." Basically what it is, is models of buildings and cityscapes from around Israel. I imagine that the amusement to be derived from this sort of park is increased when you have recently seen what you are looking at. For us, there was only so much we could take; one man behind me, upon seeing the "Mini Kibbutz," must have said, "That's definitely a Kibbutz! Yes, a Kibbutz! Ha, ha, ha! Really, a Kibbutz! Look at the little Kibbutz!" about twenty times. It was fun and interesting (and built somewhat to scale, which gives a good estimate on how big each building actually is) to the extent that the models were excellent models. The visit reinforced our desire to actually visit the places we were looking looking at (those that are relatively safe, of course; we won't be visiting Joseph's Tomb anytime soon).

For all you Red Sox fans out there, consider my support officially given. You heard it here first (Okay, probably not): This Is The Year. Go Sox.
- posted by @ 9:28 PM

 
So things are finally moving.

The day after Yom Kippur, we went to Jerusalem and then to Elana's school, JSS, by taxi. There, after I walked her to the studio, we split. I walked downstairs to a bench, pulled out all the contacts for apartments I have found, and one by one, called them on the cellphone and arranged a time to come visit the apartments. Even as I planned and marked down exactly where each apartment was on the little map of Jerusalem I had, I began to get nervous. I could tell I was going to be walking a lot (Brandeis: think Rabb-Sachar-Rabb-Spingold-Rabb; Creekers, think East-West-East-West-East, only much more so). I wouldn't have arranged it that way, but their schedules dictated this rather unfortunate arrangement. I managed to reach all but one (with whom I left a message) and set off from Talpiot to an area north of it called Katamon for the first apartment. It was about a mile, and I arrived promptly at nine.

The first apartment was owned by an American, and was dreary. The walls were light blue, but dingy; the flat felt enclosed, there was no view, and the washer/dryer (the only redeeming quality inside the apartment) was going with her when she moved. The furnishings were bare. There was a nice garden entrance, I noticed, but later on I found that to be standard, and this one was nothing to write home about. How ironic that I seem to be doing just that. Also, it was overpriced, especially in comparison to some we later found. However, since it was the first apartment, I put it down on my "maybe" list, as I had no idea what I would find next.

The second apartment was in Arnona, which meant I had to walk all the way back to where JSS is, and then walk east for ten minutes. On the way there, I found a sign that said "Dira L'Hazkara" (apartment for rent) and a phone number. Seeing as how I had some time to kill (I wasn't due in Arnona until 11, and it was now about 10:10), I called. He was home, and came down to show me the apartment. He didn't speak any English, and my Hebrew was almost good enough but not quite. Still, we managed to communicate. He had two apartments to show me. The first, less expensive one was even more depressing than the previously mentioned apartment. Imagine this, if you will: a hallway, with four rooms (living room, bathroom, kitchen, bedroom) all lined up on the right side, each one a box. It felt depressingly like a dormitory, but bigger. The little furniture that was there was rusty at best. The second apartment, about $100 a month more, was much better. It had a private entrance with its own garden (a beautiful garden at that), and was HUGE. And by huge, I mean cavernous. It was more than we needed, but still marginally in our price range. Most of the furniture that was visible seemed to be in good condition. There was a good parking situation (a basically empty side street), and I was starting to like the landlord more and more. When I left, my spirits had lifted significantly. Though not ideal, certainly (it was still a bit far away from the studio), we COULD live there and not be miserable. So, with a spring in my step, I hopped down past Talpiot and cut over to Arnona to see the next apartment.

Apartment number four seemed too good to be true. Fully furnished (and I do mean fully: dishes and silverware, a washer, ironing board, even pictures on the wall and plants), only ten minutes from the studio, even better parking situation, great view of downtown Jerusalem, a new building (five years old) with an intercom buzz in, ready to unpack your bags and be at home. I had planned to be in Jerusalem on the morning of Yom Kippur, and had called everyone to tell them I would not; this landlord mentioned right off how much he appreciated that. So it was off to a good start here. The apartment was a little small (one bedroom and small rooms) but how much do we actually need, after all? It's also walking distance to a bunch of shops, a supermarket, and, perhaps most importantly, a Blockbuster Video. So, out of four apartments, two had made the callback list. At this point Elana called, to tell me she was having a great time at JSS (more on that later), and I told her I was having lots of luck.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day's search only succeeded in making my feet hurt and giving me a sunburn. The next two apartments were the same model in the same building, but owned by different people; far away and either too expensive or unfurnished. They were utterly forgettable. The final apartment was even further away, and that meeting ended rather abruptly when the landlord discovered that we are students and are not going to be working here. "Well, eh...how will I know you will pay, then?" I simply smiled, and gave the finger to the door as it closed behind me.

I had no other apartments to see at that time, so I went and sat down in the mall across the street from JSS. After going through tight security (bag check, metal detector and a frisking for good measure) I sat down. I had walked about seven miles in a little under five hours, and seen seven apartments to boot. My feet were filthy, my face, arms and chest were burned (there is a cute little red "V" right at the base of my neck...it means I am a Vagrant), and I was exhausted. I bought a coke, and walked around the mall until that got old. I decided to walk around the area, and found, among other things, an office of the licensing authority (closed due to strike, of course; that's why we have no car yet), a shawarma stand (which, strangely, I had yet to see in Israel), and a Mexican restaurant called "Poyo Loko (sic)." Sick. There was also a Best Buy, which amused me, and all sorts of other shops with anything we might need. At about 3:45, Elana called to tell me her day was done.

Elana's day went very well. They drew from a model, and the master artist, Israel Hershberg, called everyone aside to speak with them individually. Elana had a nice chat with him, and he remembered her from when they met in Italy. She liked the facilities, her twenty-five or so classmates, and the general feel of the place. Israel gave an opening speech, telling them basically that he is not a teacher, he is an ARTIST (and the big galleries in New York agree with him, so it's not ego), and that he comes in to teach once a week because that's the way he can remain an artist. At this stage of the game for the artists in the class, he doesn't believe that anyone can be a good teacher who isn't firstly a great artist. This isn't going to be a handholding kind of place; he means business. The school, as he described it, is not a school. It is an energy source of artistic learning and progression where you can come and "plug in," or not. He made it very clear that he wasn't interested in dealing with anyone who wasn't there to "plug in," and then some. Elana, naturally, can't wait to get started.

I did get the chance to meet him; he seemed very nice. When I told him I was studying politics at Hebrew U., he said, seriously but jovially, "Politics are not allowed in here." I bowed my head and made for the door. Not really. We had a nice chat with him, paid tuition, and went to the mall for a quick meal of bourekas.

We then made our way back to the two apartments on the short list. First, we saw the fully furnished one in Arnona. Elana liked it, and she also liked the landlord, Micha (the "ch" is the guttural sound, and in the Scottish "Ach!"). Because we were both beat, we took a taxi to the big, huge one in Katamon. Elana instantly got the creeps upon seeing it (and so did I; in context after the one in Arnona rather than the dreary light blue one that started my day, it looked like a giant mausoleum). There was even a sheet over a hefty couch that looked like a body patiently awaiting burial. The paint was chipping, the toilet wouldn't flush (plus it had nasty rust stains; I leave the image to your imagination), and the thought of having to clean a place that size, and in that condition, had Elana running for the door. We got a taxi, found our way back to Valya's in Ashdod, and, after a bite to eat and a nice cold shower for Ari, instantly crashed.

This morning I woke up and went down to turn on CNN, to find out if the Red Sox had managed an improbable comeback in the ALDS. Of course, I was jolted back to more serious thoughts when I heard the newscaster announce, "The mood is jubilant at Governor-elect Schwarzenegger's campaign headquarters..." When I relayed this to Elana, and tossed in a comment or two about the mental health of the average California voter, she giggled guiltily and admitted to being tickled pink. She spent so much time in high school caring about California politics, I think she must have blown a fuse somewhere. I was happy when I found out that the Red Sox had, in fact, managed to reach the ALCS against the Yankees. When I relayed THIS news to Elana, and explained to her about the historical significance of a hypothetical Red Sox-Cubs World Series, she was heard to mutter, "DA Cubs." Right city, right animal, right saying. Wrong sport, wrong team.

Later on, we called Micha, and after some bargaining, agreed on a final rental price for the apartment. We are returning to Jerusalem on Sunday morning with Valya to work out the contract details, and we're both really happy to have this apartment. That's all the news that's fit to print and a little that probably wasn't.
- posted by @ 8:42 PM

 
It's coming up on sundown. Easy fast, everyone.
- posted by @ 5:29 PM

 
Yes, we're fine. The recent suicide bombing was in Haifa, which is nowhere near where we are now. This is the first big attack since we've been here; the latest I heard, 19 people were killed. It's interesting to note that this particular restaurant that was bombed in Haifa was owned and frequented by Israeli Arabs, not Jews, although plenty of Jews were killed too. It goes to show that these extremist monsters don't do their homework.

Tonight we went to the beachfront here in Ashdod and saw something which really perked both of us up: a large crowd, perhaps 100-150 people, all doing Israeli dances in a large circle. For those of you at or from Brandeis, think B'yachad and multiply it by a factor of ten. It was very heartening to see that for most people, life goes on even after such a horrific event. In my last entry I mentioned the rhythm of Israel, and discussed some of the negative aspects of it. It shouldn't be lost that the people here are courageous, brave and stubborn, and it is inspiring to see. They would never show the dancers on the news in the states; they show the aftermath of the attacks, and some American viewers (the same ones who somehow believe Saddam Hussein is responsible for 9/11) assume that life here is an endless string of terrifying attacks and frenzied scenes of EMT workers carting off the dead and wounded. That's not how it is, ninety-nine percent of the time, in ninety-nine percent of the places. It is true that people don't go out as much; the fastest growing industry in Israel is movie rental. The busses have obviously seen fatter times. There is security outside all malls, most restaurants and shops, and even in the courtyard where the Israelis were dancing tonight. There are soldiers (by which I mean kids younger than we are) with rifles walking down the street--new for us, but not for Israel.

This is the way life is here, and we've only seen a small part of it so far. People live in caution. But they do live.
- posted by @ 9:10 PM

 
I am beginning to learn about the rhythm of this place.

It is impossible to do anything in a timely fashion. The car we are going to buy has been pushed back again because the government workers responsible for changing the title are on strike. And it is now Shabbat anyway, so everything is closed until Sunday. But then Sunday is a half day because of Yom Kippur, and everything is closed on Monday, as well. Meanwhile, we need the car in order to get to Jerusalem and look at apartments. Elana also has her first class at JSS on Tuesday. Hopefully we can squeeze getting the car into the short Sunday workday, since we think that changing the title and taking care of the insurance can all be done at the post office. Either way, I called all the people with whom I had scheduled an apartment visit for Sunday (except for the one who keeps Shabbat, who I will call after sundown tomorrow) and told them we wouldn't be in Jerusalem until Tuesday. They all sounded very gracious that I had called, and some were genuinely surprised that I had bothered. Like I said, slowly we are learning the rhythm.

Meanwhile, we are kind of taking it easy. It's frustrating to feel useless and unproductive, but at least our cellphones have afforded us the ability to begin to make some connections with people. (A funny thing about the cellphones is that you can compose your own ring, which I know exists in the US but is new to me. My cellphone rings with 'Lukey' by Great Big Sea, and Elana's ring is a Russian song called 'Beliy Tanets.') Since making calls is about all we can do, there's not too terribly much to report. Hope you are all doing well.


- posted by @ 6:55 PM

 
I have tried to add a comment section to this blog, and I think I was successful. Thanks, Leah.

Things are progressing, but slowly. Our car will hopefully be ready tomorrow; if not, perhaps we can "borrow" it from Ori for Sunday, when we are planning to go to Jerusalem in the morning to check out some apartments which we researched. Of course, we have to be back in Ashdod (near where the whale spit Jonah out, for the biblical among you) by 2 because Yom Kippur is beginning.

Researching the apartments is certainly an adventure. Every conversation starts out with me asking, "Medaber(et) Anglit?" or "Do you speak English?" My Hebrew is good, but not yet good enough to converse about apartments. So we have a few that we are going to see, and some sound promising.

That's about all for now. We'll let you know how it goes on Sunday.
- posted by @ 4:47 PM