Someone we care for once told us to expect a weird encounter every day in Israel. So far, they have been wrong. One weird encounter a day is not enough.
Our first day, if you want to scrimp and call it only one day, stretched over four airports, some eleven time zones, and lasted 30+ waking hours. It was a weird encounter on its own terms. By the end of it, we were mostly delusional and everything--the record breaking heat in Tel Aviv, the supremely grumpy stewardess between SLC and ORD, and the security personnel in Philly--counted as a strange encounter to the three kids, Kourtney, and me. That said, the kids were wonderful, for the most part, on the flights. Our dear friend Amit turned our luck around by meeting us at the Tel Aviv airport just as one of our two overfull luggage carts had decided it, too, had had enough, and toppled over in front of a thousand on-lookers at the airport. Amit stuck us and our stuff in a taxi van, where Carlos, an emigre from Argentina who enjoyed using his Spanish on us, shuttled us off to our new apartment in French Hill, Jerusalem. The drive from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem featured ubiquitous tri-lingual signs (Hebrew, Arabic, English), palm trees, rolling deep hills, and desert-forest-plains to remind one of Southern California. The drive, which crossed most of this tiny country (small by European standards), rolled by quickly with Aaron speculating about the wildlife, survival strategies, and game he would soon be pursuing, with Elliot regaling anyone who would listen with his songs, and with Libbie zonked out.
Upon arrival at our apartment, which sits atop the cosmopolitan neighborhood French Hill and overlooks much of northeastern Jerusalem, Kourtney and I experienced the one moment we had spent months anticipating and never really knowing how to properly prepare for: we had arrived home. Now what? Here again, Menahem, another dear friend, stepped in to answer the unanswerable, showing up just in time to help schlep the luggage, hand us flowers and utterly delicious unidentifed fruit, snap some photos, and race off in time for Shabat to start at Friday sundown. (In a deft display of foresight, we planned our arrival hours before Shabat begins, and most quarters of Jerusalem shut down.) Cooled by a continuous cross-breeze flowing through the apartment, exhausted from the travels, and undeterred that, despite the darkness outside, it was really time to wake up, our bodies' clocks compelled us to spend the evening, and then night, and then the brutally early morning shuffling ourselves and our stuff around the apartment.
Which brings us to the finale of first day weird encounters. At 4:30 am, about half an hour after the morning call for prayer in Arabic came wafting threw the windows, and not long after several minutes of particularly rambunctious luggage juggling, two kind police officers, touting feircesomely large machines guns, knocked at our door, smiled at Libbie and Elliot who were racing around the floor, threatened by listless pantomime to give us a ticket for disturbing the peace, ever so usefully reminded us that "we are in Israel, not America, now," and left us to ponder our arrival in the (30+ times invaded) City of Peace. The next day Aaron was disappointed to learn he had not noticed the guns, which were as long as their policemen's legs.
The next day was Shabat, our first Saturday. A local leader of one of our congregation's charitable societies (RS Pres) brought over a box of cereal, milk, and then came back to help us stagger out of the door and into a van, which took us directly to a pair of wonderful local church meetings held in the BYU Jerusalem Center. The Jerusalem Center overlooks the Old City from atop Mt. Scopus and the members (mostly expats in university, government, and corporate circles, with a fair portion of Russian and Spanish-speaking emigres) have welcomed us with open arms, and we came home that first Saturday very happy to be part of it all.
Every day this past week has had its share of surprises, delights, and adventures. No one has escaped thorough jet-lag adjustments, some waking in the middle of the night for hours, others pressing for mid-day naps that last hours. Without a crib, Libbie has taken to falling asleep on the bedroom floor often with her head directly in front of the door. Elliot and Aaron freely cruise around the kid-friendly neighborhood on their scooters, although not indoors out of consideration for the neighbors.
Now for an interlude from Elliot: the neighborhood is full of, according to Elliot, "kids, a playground, berries, flowers, people, axes, spears, lances, and swords. There are cats here, just three. (Editor's note: the current tally tops off at about 20 cats in the playground square between our buildings.) They scratch people and they bite people, and berries too. I know how to say good: tov! I know how to say bad: ra! And there's a button. If you push the new button, you will blast off into America." Elliot is saving up points to buy a "squirta" (a squirt gun) at the main (Manahe Yehuda) market and starting this Wednesday may attend a kindergarten next to Aaron's public school.
Aaron remains dedicated to fishing in the Mediterranean and invites interested participants to come join him this Monday. He hopes to angle for a variety of tuna and albacore apparently common in the Mediterranean, using Menahem's rod and a small pile of tackle he has cobbled together. Aaron begins first grade in Hebrew at the public school a few blocks away this week, which no doubt will be a major adjustment. The instruction will be entirely in Hebrew, although one girl in the class, whose mother hails from New York, will hopefully help bridge the language gap.
Our general language experience has been fascinating mix of English, Russian, Spanish, Hebrew, and Arabic. Nearly everyone we have met so far speaks Hebrew, although perhaps a quarter also speak English, another quarter Russian, and a scattering of Spanish. The amount of Russian speakers is surprising: we can often get through a long grocery list without any Hebrew at all. There are also a few students from East Asia around campus. It is an ideal language learning environment in that if our miniscule Hebrew fails, another common language can usually be found to get the point across; on the other hand, because the norm is to respond in the language spoken to, even fluent English speakers will continue to speak Hebrew with foreigners, like us, who want the practice.
In other matters, the weather has been sunny and warm but not terribly humid and far from unbearable. Transportation so far has been by taxi, bus, scooter, skateboard, and foot, and although we often wish we had a car, we are not sure it would be worth the trade-off in the opportunity get to know the city and its people, in person and en route. The food--especially fruits, vegetables, and spices--is plentiful and delicious. Hummus and pita is stunning, especially when fresh and cheap. The falafel, delicious and fresh. The milk, pudding, and cheese, abundant and creamy. Our apartment--located on the second floor of a building built just after the Six Days War--is graced by an incredible cross-breeze, three bedrooms, two small bathrooms, living room, full kitchen, and washer and dryer. Coming from Manhattan, we think the place couldn't be more spacious. Aaron's school and Elliot's kindergarten is down the hill a few blocks on the way to Hebrew U, where I will teach and do research this year, which is probably a brisk 20 minute walk away. A rec center, a grocery store and supermarket, two falafel stands, a Dominoes pizza, a bank, several cafes and fancy clothes shops are several minutes' walk away. Across the highway lies a lively Arab neighborhood, Ramat Eshkol, with affordable shopping and delicious food. The roof on our building also opens up an panoramic view of northern Jerusalem backlit in the evening by the setting sun. The view on the roof is marvelous itself, although the kids haven't minded eating ice cream cones and playing throw-your-shirt-on-the-clothes-lines nearly every evening since our arrival.
So in all, we are settling in and immensely enjoying ourselves, excited to adopt and adapt to a new way of life. We have had such a blast just being together and doing things in our own time. We are studying Hebrew together nightly and hope to start a class soon. I (Kourtney) haven't learned a new language in ten years, so I am way overdue. It's exciting to be studying again and being able to see tiny bits of progress as we use what we learn bit by bit. We feel at home, despite (and in part thanks to) the daily weirdness, and well taken care of here, and we hope that many of you will come visit!
Well so much for our first hasty report. Incoming calls are free on our cell phones (which need charging basically once a week it seems). Ask if you want our numbers. Signing off for now but will be back soon, hopefully with pictures.
Kourtney and Ben
Aaron caught a crab with his bare hands-- he just reached into the river and grabbed it; it was pretty Man vs. Wild-y
