Hoooooooooowwwwwwdy! I hope I haven’t worried anyone. I am sorry about the “Lizrael” mini-hiatus, but I needed a little vacay…no, literally…to Eilat. But don’t fret; I will try very hard to fill everyone in on the daily details (give or take a few that I will withhold for everyone’s sake). So since we’ve last spoken (and by “we” I really mean “I” since I guess I’m the only one doing the talking) some exciting things have happened.
I had my last day of Ulpan, said “goodbye” to a friend who is leaving, said “hello” to a friend who just came back, and took a road trip to Eilat (which I just returned from this minute…chlorine still in my hair).
I guess I will start at the very beginning, because as Maria Von Trapp sang, “It’s a very good place to start.”
So, I had my last day of Ulpan and received my diploma which states: “Elizabeth Blum [Sorry Ira, I sometimes forget to use ‘Savetsky’ but that doesn’t mean I feel any less a part of you; ‘Blum’ is just easier.] successfully completed Beginner’s Level Hebrew course! Well done!” This of course was also written in Hebrew, but the only words I recognize are my own name (which, believe me, it took a few minutes for me to realize that’s what I was reading), “Ivrit” (which means “Hebrew”), and “Kol Hakavod!” which I only realize now means “Well done!” I am used to hearing “Kol Hakavod!” all the time, usually from Ira’s mouth, dripping with sarcasm, when I spill something or trip, which is quite often.
Immediately after receiving my diploma, I went down to Aroma Espresso Bar to get my caffeine fix. I was feeling like a million shekels, really mamash glowing and grinning from ear to ear with my diploma in-hand. I walked up to the bar and began to order my coffee in Hebrew. Not more than 3 words passed my lips before the barista said, “You can speak English.” I firmly replied, “Lo, ani tzricha ledaber Ivrit achshav. At medaberet b’Ivirt, bevakasha.” (No, I need to speak Hebrew now. Speak in Hebrew, please.) She complied and it was at this moment that I realized I had a serious problem on my hands: when I speak to people in Hebrew, they will respond in Hebrew…and not in the way my amazing Ulpan teacher responds, but quickly, with no clarity, and with authentic Israeli accents. By speaking in Hebrew, people will assume I will understand their responses, which is an absolutely logical assumption, but an extremely false one. So now I have to talk to people in Hebrew, listen to their Hebrew responses, and then force them to translate them into English. I can tell I will be making a lot of friends here as Israelis are known for their patience.
Last Thursday night I bid farewell to the ever free-spirited Jen Gladwin, my former Neve roommate (along with Marissa Nuckles).
Jenny is heading off to Hawaii to do some writing, some surfing, and some chilling (Did I get that right Jenny?) because obviously you can’t do ANY of those things in Tel Aviv. Jenny, I’m sorry we did not overlap more during our time here. Israel will miss you…well, maybe not Har Nof, heh heh. Give Ris a kiss for me during your LA visit. I will try to come up with more inapprops nevacay memories unsuitable for this blog, but very suitable for your writing. I’m sure we’ll be finger painting again soon. XO
So, I failed to mention that on my way to my Ulpan graduation, I heard someone screaming my name from across the street. Well, I wouldn’t exactly expect to run into anyone here so I just kept on walking. Then this really attractive girl runs across the street and hugs me and it’s only mid-hug that I realize it is my dear friend, Sara. I hadn’t seen Sara in almost two and a half years, and was beyond thrilled to reunite with her.
Sara and I, 2 and a half years ago (Sara, this was the night before you left I think)
(Okay, I can’t lie, I completely just dramatized that whole story and exaggerated almost every detail. WHY do I do this? Actually, I had been communicating with Sara for months now and knew she lived in the same neighborhood as we do, and my chances of running into her were no less than 100%. We had both been too lazy to meet up before this moment because of her jetlag and my extremely busy Ulpan/gym schedule [there I go again lying and exaggerating].)
So Sara and I are bonded for life by the strongest ties with which any friendship could ever be forged. No, not love, you emotional saps…shopping…duh. This is how it went. I had been learning and living at Neve (a seminary here in Jerusalem, Har Nof to be exact) for approximately 2 months. I got pretty comfortable and always sat in the same seat in the second row in class. One day, I saw an unfamiliar ponytail in front of me and wondered to whom it belonged. Towards the end of class, I started to get kind of chatty and was going on a rant about how I had been living off the same clothes for 2 months from the 1 suitcase I brought, plus a few hippie skirts, and like 5 pairs of genie pants purchased for less than 40 shekels from the shuk. I was going on and on about how I wanted some NORMAL clothes and had NOTHING to wear and was getting very depressed about the situation. When class ended, the ponytail turned around and I saw the face of an angel. The angel opened her mouth and said the most beautiful words I’d ever heard: “Would you like to go to the mall with me?” 3 hours later I was broke and happy. The rest is pretty much history. From Sara I learned some important life lessons, like how to order an Americano instead of a Latte when you are counting calories, and of course, how to hitchhike back from the mall when you idiotically think it will be “fun” to try to walk up an enormous hill for 2 hours.
Needless to say, I am thrilled Sara is also living in Jerusalem.
We had a big group here for Shabbos lunch including Ira’s friend from med school, Val (Chaim), who came from Tel Aviv and was a wonderful addition to the weekend. We all had a really great time. It was a gooooorgeous day…FINALLY. So after Shabbos lunch, the whole crew took a nice walk. Sara and I enjoyed catching up and decided on a whim to drive to Herzliya after Shabbos. Obviously we invited Kenny and Val and Ira on the condition that they would sit in the backseat.
Kenny asked if we would mind taking a detour through Har Nof, which was quite nostalgic for Sara and me, being that it was the place of our first meeting. As we were reminiscing, the boys were listening, and we all made an amazing discovery: we all share a rabbi. He worked at the yeshiva they attended before he came to Neve. The best part was, we figured it out solely based on Kenny’s and my impressions of this man. Now for a small tangent. I know I spoke about my “aspartame detox” before, but that was also a lie. You see, in Israel, in addition to your standard packets of sweet and low, they also have these tablets I like to call the “crack pills.” You put these crack pills in your coffee and phsssshhhoooo….they explode and bubble up and then dissolve. It’s like a chemistry experiment in your cup of joe. I’m a huge fan of these tablets (except they only work in hot beverages…so don’t get too excited, you iced coffee loyalists), but sometimes when you’re pouring them from the container, more than the one or two you want come out and it’s like a crack pill avalanche and your coffee is ruined. End of tangent. Well, this particular rabbi was very friendly and would often invite me in his office for some coffee and a chat. I promise you, I have never in my life seen anyone use more of these tablets in one cup of coffee. The top of the cup would begin to develop a bright yellow foam, (I try not to think about what this stuff does to my insides) but he just kept on adding the tablets, “I’m going to add another one. Eh, two more, what the heck. You want more? You sure you don’t? Come on…take another! Don’t be shy!” Kenny and I discovered our mutual rabbi based on these tablets. So thank you, father aspartame, for bringing people together…I will defend you until the death (hopefully not an aspartame-induced death).
Once in Herzlyia, we decided to go to a big dinner…because that’s what everyone wants to do right after Shabbos, eat more. It’s like going to a steak dinner after Thanksgiving lunch. The only issue was the restaurant we chose did not have an English menu.
Everyone looked at me to put my Ulpan skills to use…shahhh right…I don’t mess around when it comes to ordering food, and it’s a good thing, because this place is known for its chicken hearts (I prefer not to eat organs) and I may have seen “chicken” and gone for it because it was a recognizable word. The very sweet waitress tried to help us work through the menu,
but in the end we decided to just order a whole cow and share it.
As we were waiting for the food I noticed the table next to us was enjoying a round of this delicious looking drink.
Now, have you guys ever heard of that book, “The Secret?” I think it’s all about like the power of positive energy and you’ll get whatever you put out into the universe or something like that. I saw an abridged film version with my dear friend Jenn Freeman, but the 15 glasses of wine we drank during it makes the memory somewhat blurry. Well, I remembered some lady on Oprah saying something about the idea of “The Secret” and how she followed it and it worked for her. She suggested making a board with pictures and words of things you want in your life and by making it visual and putting it out into the universe you will get these things. I’m not sure why, but seeing these delicious looking drinks made me want to try out the secret (Maybe because I was drinking when I first watched The Secret). And I mean if Oprah does it, it must really work, because it’s not like she can just go buy anything she wants in her life…riiiiiiiiiight. Therefore, I decided to take the picture you see above to try to bring that drink into my life. Well, I’m telling you guys, this secret business really works! The man whose drink it was, got up from the table, came over to me, and handed me his drink.
And people say there’s no G-d! Next I’m going to photograph a large pile of cash.
As I mentioned before, we just returned from Eilat. We decided to take a little trip down there for a couple days at the beach. Ira didn’t have work all week until Thurs (one of these days I promise to tell you guys what he is up to…it’s pretty interesting I must say, but since this blog isn’t called “Irael” you’ll have to wait til I have nothing else to say…which could be forever) and since I just finished Ulpan, we just packed up and hit the road. For my graduation from Penn I got a $13 bottle of wine. For my graduation from Ulpan I got a trip to Eilat. I know what you’re thinking. “You took a ‘vacation?’ Isn’t this whole three months a ‘vacation?’” Well, yes, you’re correct, so we can call this a vacation from our vacation. It was kind of nice actually because I didn’t have those “end of vacay blues” I usually get because I knew we were just coming back to Yerrrrruuuuu, still thousands of miles from the “real world.”
We decided to rent a car and make a little roadtrip out of it.
I told Ira to pack some snacks for the road. This is Ira’s definition of “snacks.” 8 rugelachs and 15 chocolate cookies oh yah and a kilo and a half of roasted pumpkin seeds...which of course I end up eating. It will be a miracle if they don’t have to roll us out of this country.
I’ll try to take you with me and show you what the roadtrip was like. It starts off desert, desert, oh there’s a camel, more desert, ahhh the dead sea, a few security checkpoints (in America we have tollbooths, in Israel we have checkpoints…btw one of the checkpoint soldiers was this really hot blonde girl whose gun was bigger than she was…I wanted to take her pic, but I thought she may kill me). Popsicle pit stop, more desert, more desert, McDonalds? (I had to take a pic because I really thought it was a mirage), Eilat!
Yes, that's McDonald's...can you make out the golden arches?
Finally in Eilat!
Well, the cookies and pumpkin seeds didn’t do the trick, so we were pretty hungry when we arrived, which was good becaaaaaauseee this is what our table looked like BEFORE we even ordered.
The waitress asked, “salad?” So we said, “yes, please.” And the next thing we knew, 17 “salads” filling our table. Now, I really dislike salad. Because in America salad=leaves and I’m not a fan of leaves. I also don’t like a bunch of cold things mushed together. I usually prefer my food to be hot. I know you may think I sound “high maintenance,” which I for sure will not deny, but you should also know that I could eat nothing but peanut butter for the rest of my life and be fine with that too. If I have a jar of peanut butter I am a very, very low maintenance eater. But anyway, my point was that salad in Israel does NOT mean leaves. It’s so refreshing. “Salad” can mean any number of things including chummus, babaganush, matbucha, etc. (sorry to my non-Jewish American friends, let me know if you need clarification). I was very tempted to order nothing and just eat the salads and laffa bread and then bounce before anyone could say anything. I know plenty of people (who will remain nameless) a couple generations up who do that sort of thing all the time and get away with it.
One of the best things (arguably THE best) about staying in an Israeli hotel is the breakfast. They have these endless breakfasts with everything from omelets and pancakes to surprising things like pasta and vegetables and even herring (Disgusting…Really? At this hour? Herring? Vomit).
Ira’s choice of breakfast looked like this. Cocoa puffs, pancakes, and a chocolate muffin.
Ira can buy a special new bathing suit to fit in with all the French people vacationing there. I didn’t let him, though.
Please enjoy some Eilat pics from our trip:
Please enjoy some Eilat pics from our trip:
On the way home Ira entertained me with his car dancing. He had me laughing for hours. I really wish I could post a video on here, but with his residency match around the corner I’m forbidden to embarrass him any more than I already have.
