Happy Valentine's Day!
Speaking of all the love in the air right now, we learned this song in my Hebrew class, and I'm sharing it with you! YAY!
This weekend has been one of the most enjoyable since I've been here, and I'm pleased to say that I'm both acclimating more and at the same time learning many different aspects of Israeli culture. I always try to update this blog twice a week, but found myself away from the computer for the past few days. That, with the combination of the worsening Internet situation (we only seem to have access in the hallway, and very poor service in our room) has kept my laptop closed and my book open.
I recently started "Three Cups of Tea" which was given to me before I came to Tel Aviv. I'm finding that I am really admiring the man character of the book, and am finding his story, which depicts a failed attempt at scaling one of the Himalayas and his hard work to build and open a school in a small village in the valley of the mountain inspiring, and can only hope that I can make a difference when I "grow up" as he seems to have done.
I spent this past Shabbat dinner at my Roommate's Boyfriend's Friend's house, which was a wonderful experience. Shabbat dinner is like a weekly Thanksgiving/Sunday Roast, and every Jewish person must partake, and so it's not uncommon for families to take in a wandering traveler for the evening meal. The Sabbath, starting sundown Friday night, and ending when the third star is spotted in the sky on Saturday evening, it's common for strict Orthodox (common in Jerusalem, but a rare sight in Tel Aviv) to honor it completely. No electricity, no work, no causing of any work. In Tel Aviv, all the shops are closed (except coffee shops) and there are no buses. Cue me, the 21 year old Goya who who can pass for just about anything in this region, depending on her choice of dress and how many bobby pins she puts in her hair.
The family was warm and hospitable, while being the stereotypical, throwing (yes really throwing) a broken off piece of Challah dipped in salt on the table for me to take after the prayer and before the meal. I did have to lie, for the sake of comfort on both ends. When they asked if I was Jewish, I told them my mother was non-practicing, but the other side, and larger side of my family, was Catholic, so I was raised as a Catholic (but, since I said that my Mother was Jewish, they considered me a Jew). They asked, as I have been asked before, what the Jewish population was like in New Mexico (which, because they didn't know where it was, I had to explain was 'next to' California and above Mexico), and I responded with 'so small that I never met any others.' True. They asked if I keep Kosher, and I said 'no, and if I did, I don't like pork.' True. I'm such a bad Jew, but it's OK, because the mom said she liked bacon, and so we actually got along well, not to mention the fact that she was the only one in the family who spoke English fluently. The person who invited me spoke better Spanish, and so when we talked, it was more Spanglish.
My dinner was a combination of this...
and this...(start at 2:00)
I ate EVERYTHING. Schitznell, chicken that fell off the bone as my fork put pressure on the skin, spicy white fish, hummus, tahina, eggplant, mushroom and pepper salad, pasta with mushrooms and eggplants, potatoes, sweet potatoes, challah, and many things I didn't know existed until then. All of it was delicious.
About 4 hours later, stuffed like I've never been before, and my skirt stretching at the seams, I was driven home and spent the rest of my evening and until noon the next day digesting my food. I have not been hungry since (yes, bri, I have eaten!).
Since then, I've spent the rest of my days (yesterday and today) relaxing, either in the park across from our hostel, or at the beach, reading and doing crosswords and sipping on iced coffee during the 85 degree days or warm chai lattes while enjoying the 70 degree nights. This is the life.
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