Jen's First Sandstorm

"It's a bad one out there," says an elder colleague as he exits the office. "What?" replies Jen, confused at the thought of less than perfect weather in Tel Aviv. "The sandstorm, it's a bad one," he clarifies. Jen runs to the window to see a haze over the city. It's the end of the world!!

Khamsin (with the harsh "H" at the beginning) is a sandstorm produces when winds kick up the sand in Africa (Egypt) and blow them towards the Mediterranean Sea. The sand is then carried thousands of miles until it blows West onto the shores where we found it in Tel Aviv this week.

Because my image of a sandstorm prior to this was either a.) winds blowing sand into your face in the desert or b.) my brother throwing sand at me, I'll explain what it was like: The sky was a yellowish-gray color like something from a movie about the apocalypse, the beach was deserted and few people were outside. (I purposely did not play with the colors or blur on the photo so you could see exactly what it looked like. This is well before sunset. The buildings are .5 miles away)

When you walked outside you were greeted by the finest mist of sand almost unnoticeable except for the grind you start to feel in your teeth and the sand collecting in your shoes. (Think of magic ferry dust.) The sand was most noticeable on the cars which looked like they had just passed under a bridge and sand/cement splatter on them. Before we could pull out of our parking spot we had to turn on the windshield wipers - but instead of water dripping off, the sand was pushed aside. At home our "garden" plants were doing better than we'd expected, but the balcony floor had a light coating of sand.

The temperature was the same and you didn't feel or hear the sand falling, but the eerie color of the sky, the grit in your mouth and the light covering of sand on everything really looked like the end of the world. But don't worry- it is sunny with a high of 75 today. I think we'll be okay.

Paul versus the Volcano

I just returned from the most incredible bachelor party in Cartagena, Colombia. We stayed in the largest and most luxurious apartment in Cartagena, replete with an original Botero sculpture, penthouse pool and two hot tubs. And while a number of events took place that easily merit their own posts (what happens in Cartagena stays in Cartagena)it was the end of the fiesta when the real adventure began.


My travel back to Tel Aviv from Cartagena hit a snag, to say the least. First my departure from Panama City was delayed by the ash cloud over Amsterdam. Mount Eyjafjallajökull--actual name--had already ruined European travel for a month now, and it should not have been such a surprise. And as dad says, nature is a mother. But then an older gentleman had a heart attack on board (probably from all the screaming babies) that forced us to reverse course and land in Puerto Rico. We were already 45 minutes into the Atlantic, but it seems that Puerto Rico was the closest airport with a modern hospital.

Since no good deed goes unpunished, our unanticipated landing--gasp, without the proper paperwork to land!--resulted in a two hour delay on the tarmac in San Juan. It looked like my 7 hour layover in Amsterdam would now be just an hour and a half. But because Dutch labor laws require that the flight crew not work too many consecutive hours, the pilot flew us back to Panama City instead of continuing on to Amsterdam. We landed back in Panama City at precisely the time we should have landed in Amsterdam...an irony that was lost on the flight crew.

So is Dutch socialism the real villain here? I think so. And I'm angry...like Tea Party angry. If I make my connection in Amsterdam on Tuesday then I will be in Tel Aviv on Wednesday. Hopefully Jen will still recognize me by then.

Cat Woman

When I was little I loved Cat Woman so much that I had my mom make me a Cat Woman costume for Halloween - long black fingernails and all. Today, I hate Cat Woman. More so, I hate the cat woman who feeds the cats in my alley. I guess they would literally be alley cats.

Cats are a phenomena here. They are all over! We were warned: don't touch the stray cats! They may look cute but they may also have some disease and attack you. Emphasis on the attack part. THESE ARE NOT HOUSE CATS PEOPLE! Would you pet a rat in the alley?!
I pretty much see them as filthy scavengers just one (or two) step(s) above mice - which thank God we don't have thanks to these cats. For the most part they are out of the way - in the trash can, sitting under a bench or on top of a car. They don't usually cause any problems (except leaving paw prints and scattering trash); But none the less, they are ugly and the thought of them attacking me is kind of scary.

So why does this make me hate Cat Woman? She is akin to the woman in Mary Poppins who feeds the pigeons. (Feed the birds...toppins a bag...) Here's how it goes...every day!:

apx 6:30pm - Feeds about 10 cats at the North end of the alley.
apx 6:40pm - Walks down alley with used grocery bag of consumables, followed in toe by 4 cats.
apx 6:45pm - Feeds about 8 cats at the South end of the alley.
apx 6:50pm - Leaves the alley.

SHE DEOSN'T EVEN LIVE THERE! This crazy woman is feeding all of the stray cats right by my house and then she goes home to her own neighborhood (which I'm guessing is a few blocks away and full of cats) and leaves my alley full of mangy ugly alley cats!!! Feed your own cats woman!! I don't want them to stick around my place!

This wouldn't bother me so much if I only had to look at them - but yesterday I finally gave up my dream of washing my own car and paid to have the sea salt and cat prints washed off. I even went so far as to have the car waxed! It looks beautiful! Until 30 minutes later...the cat lady came...and her cats pranced all over my clean car. It was as if she'd put the food on my sunroof and under my tires. (Sigh...) Any suggestions?

(Those are cat prints on top of my car!)

Military TV

We are...blessed...to have access to the American Military TV and Radio stations. We get one movie channel, one news (which shows various programs from all networks), one sports channel and a few other channels that show the most popular shows in the States. (Biggest Loser, Lost, etc.) And about every 5 minutes you see at least one guy in uniform...but I would say it is closer to 10 uniforms per minute between the commercials, newscasters and news stories.

The commercials are the best! Imagine high school students making public service announcements that are only aired once or twice a show. So fewer, lower quality ads but much more informative and helpful. And because it is military most of them have to do with "your military benefits" and "protect your assets" with "Major Savings." He is my favorite even though most of his tips are pretty basic. (Protect your identity, plan for retirement, etc.)

While this is all very interesting it wouldn't be blog-worthy if it weren't for the news I'm watching right now! 5 minutes ago the "news" was how fast a specific base in who knows where can unload 4 helicopters from a massive airplane (less than 3 hours in case you were wondering).

But the very best part: they were just covering the oil spill in the Gulf Coast and expert commentary was provided by guess who?!?!?! "BILL NYE the Science Guy! Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!" Oh, it will be so sad to someday return to normal TV.

Israel is not so far away...

At the wedding reception we had a table with greeting cards and asked our friends and family to fill out a card and write a date on the back. On that date during the next year (this year, our first year away) we would open the card. We have gotten some really lovely messages and we look forward to those days when we get to open another card at breakfast. Last week one envelope read:
TO: Jen & Paul, Far Far Away

But Israel is not so far away. Especially if you have Skype. Now, this might sound like a Skype advertisement but I assure you they are not paying me for this. I wish they were. Every evening as we are making dinner Paul and I check to see who is on Skype. The usual suspects include our parents, Paul's brother, my cousin (though she never answers), my grandparents and 2 or 3 friends. We talk to those people quite often.

Moral of the story: if you miss us you should get on Skype! It makes the Atlantic seem like a puddle. For example: this weekend my mom and I had a one hour sewing lesson/date and my brother gave me a hug all the way from California! I had lunch/dinner with Greg in Brazil, a drink with my dad in Ohio, a chat with Jill in Wisconsin, with the Vaca family in Connecticut, with Alexandria in Florida, and coffee with my grandparents in Wisconsin.

Granted, it would be nice to sit next to my mom for the sewing lesson or actually feel my bother's arms instead of the hard computer monitor; but Skype is leaps and bounds above letters, phone calls or emails. And it is infinitely better than silence.

Assuming we had unlimited vacation time and money this is one example of why it is difficult to physically cross the Atlantic to see everyone: Paul might make it, but I'm not THAT strong of a swimmer. Haha, just kidding. Paul is having one heck of time trying to get home from a bachelor party right now. His "trip" home will end up being about...Sunday at 7pm until Wed at 3am - plus an 8 hour time change. You can do the math. It was not supposed to be this way, but this is how the mother nature, the human body and airlines work. Paul will write about this later and you'll understand what I mean.

Amuuurica

Twice now I've wanted to write a post entitled "America." But not "America"..I want you to hear "A-muuuur-ica" in your head when you say it. As in: "This is a-MUR-i-ca!," said the man defending his right to tailgate. It is a way of saying the name that in itself is American and that drips of pride. This is what we find ourselves saying several times a week.

It is funny how once you leave a place you start to feel an even greater tie to it. For example, I don't ever remember craving raspberries as much as I do now that I don't have a raspberry bush in my backyard. This phenomena is happening to us on a large scale, so while the 4th of July may be months away - Jen has started planning. She's not alone - others here are also planning. "Did you know Maybelline isn't American?" said one co-worker to another in disbelief as she tried to make a list of American companies in Israel. "French...Hmm."

The paradox of this situation is that while you want connect more with American culture while abroad, you are more disconnected from it than ever. I have no clue what songs are on the radio back home, what TV shows are popular, what movies are about to come out...and I haven't heard a word about Brad & Angelina in months (not that I want to, I never followed them). My American pop culture is now informed by YouTube and my little cousins' facebook profiles which is to say uninformed. So I'll stick to the old stuff that I know when planning for the 4th.

As I've said before, few things remind me of America more than summer, grilling and Neil Diamond! (Did you know that he is Jewish? Yeah..I thought the same thing! "Maybe he is doing a concert in Israel sometime while I'm here!" But he's not...so my Neil Diamond album with have to suffice.) So as the 4th of July approaches I will be trying to gather up all of the ingredients for an authentic American party - burgers, corn on the cob, the Birthday dessert my mom makes for me, an American flag, cornhole (a game) and fireworks....that last one might be tricky.

Jen and Juggernauts

When I was little we used to take long road trips to Wisconsin to visit our family. Dusty and I (and eventually Shawn) would have games and books and music to entertain us in the car. One particular year I remember "sharing" GameBoy games with Dusty - trading Spy vs. Spy for Bart Simpson and the Juggernauts. My preference was Spy vs. Spy as I wasn't so great at knocking the Juggernauts off of their pedestals or beating them through the obstacle course. I was - however - quite good at the skate ramp! Bart had to skate down the ramp and up the other side, dodging pizza and potholes on the track. Then he jumped off the ramp and defeated the Juggernaut with a flying kick. Driving in Tel Aviv is kind of like this...

I learned to drive in Mansfield - pretty much the country. "Traffic" is 2 cars in front of you and distractions on the road include roadkill, deer crossings and the occasional (usually predictable) stop sign or stop light. Bart's Juggernaut ramp is the other end of the spectrum with unpredictable obstacles - Tel Aviv driving falls somewhere in between.

My drive to work starts by backing out over a metal pole that is about 2 inches thick, barely missing the car parked in my alley and dropping down off of the sidewalk into traffic. As I shift up into 2nd and 3rd gear...and pray that it all goes well. The cars to my far right are all parked - and I hope they stay parked. The cars to my right are moving now, but there is bound to be someone who double parks and blocks that lane so I try not to go there unless I have to (Reason #1). The cars to my left are driving at the same speed, but they may want to turn right - at which point they will cut me off. The lights change from Green to Yellow to Red in about 5 seconds - so don't run the yellows! We stop on average about every other block because of lights or double parked cars. Then there are the pedestrians who have crosswalks and lights for crossing, but when there is no light they can cross (at the crosswalk) at will. This is when we slam on the brakes. Finally there are the motos - smaller than motorcycles but bigger than scooters, they ride with the traffic and stop at lights, but go between cars, move faster and change lanes with greater frequency. (I also imagine they fly further when you hit them...but I don't want to find out).

Oh...and last week we learned about one more obstacle - nails. We had a pretty short but very sharp nail poke a hole in our tire. (This could be its own story - but we'll suffice to say the issue is resolved and no one was hurt.) Unlike Mansfield - houses are right on the street here, so construction crews usually take up the sidewalk and part of the right lane (Reason #2 not to drive there). This means that when they drop nails and screws and other sharp shards they land in the street...and stay there until some poor car comes along and takes one for the team. Reason #3 not to drive in the right lane - the nails. Asking around we've heard this is a frequent problem, especially on Saturday's as the Israeli's have Friday's off work so they do their housework and such then, throwing additional crap onto the roads.

So...the point is that driving in Tel Aviv is very different than in Mansfield. I've learned from Bart Simpson to avoid the obstacles in my path and to be aggressive in pulling out and switching lanes. I'm not fighting Juggernauts but by the time you visit I'll have this driving game down and you'll have nothing to fear. See...I've already identified the dangers and learned to deal with them! And best of all...with the low speeds, frequent stops and crowded roads it is virtually impossible to flip a car! So I'm safe :)