Pfeffernusse

Every year for Christmas we got a package in the mail from my grandma.  I didn't really know her as a chef or a baker, but every year she sent us a bag of homemade pfeffernuss.  Pfeffernusse (pepper nuts) are small hard anise-flavored cookies.  I know - anise.  I always loved them.  Probably because they were from my grandma and because of the emotional connection to the food.  Anyway, they are these little bite-sized cookies about the size of a marble.  They have a distinct flavor and don't need frosting or sugar on top.  Just plain and simple.

There were two ways we could enjoy our pfeffernusse.  First, we could dunk them in dad's coffee (not mom's usually, she didn't like them).  Pfeffernusse are firm and the coffee loosens them up just enough.  Or we could eat them out of our pockets.  Yes, our pockets.  That was my favorite.  Ohio winters are cold, especially when you are waiting for the bus or pushing the woods. (Pushing the woods means walking through the woods from one end to the other in a strategic manner so as to kick-up the deer and sending them running in the direction of the hunters.)

I remember standing outside in the cold on several occasions, it was so cold so I'd put my hands in my pockets and....you guessed it...pfeffernusse!  I would pop the little delight in my mouth and just kind of let it melt down.  (I have to tell you that once...maybe a few times...I'd put on my coat for the first time of the year and find a pfeffernusse in the pocket.  When they are a year old they are a bit too hard, and sadly, you have to toss them.)

When grandma died two years ago I scoured her recipe books for the pfeffernusse recipe.  To the envy of my cousins and aunts, I found it.  It wasn't until this year that I tried to make them, and I really wish I could have called grandma for some clarification.  You see, not only was the recipe written in the time of lard, but there are no instructions.  Only ingredients.  And even that isn't a complete list.  "Enough flour to roll."  Hmmm..."enough"....I seem to have lost my "enough" measuring cup.  It was a bit of guessing, but I think I figured out something at least close to what grandma used to make. If only it were cold...

Holidays with Family (and some cute babies!)

We just got back from the States in which we were able to celebrate a whole seasons worth of holidays in just two weeks!  We didn't get to see everybody we wanted to, and we'll still wish we were there on Christmas, but it is good to be back in our place.

Our first stop this trip was Connecticut where we celebrated a wedding (again), a first birthday and Thanksgiving.  As if this didn't keep us busy enough we also squeezed in some delicious Mexican food made with lots of love by our friend Jenny, a stop at the local watering hole the night before Thanksgiving to see the variety of locals, and a nice long walk in the woods.  We had so much fun playing with our nephew Atlas...or more so...following him around as he crawled and walked and explored the whole house.

I think after our many trips crossing time zones we've almost figured out how to beat the jet lag:  NyQuil and Red Bull.  I know - not the healthiest, but I don't think the body was made for time travel and when you only have a few days, you can't waste the best hours sleeping.  Oh..and baking at 630am.  If you can't sleep, might as well do something fun! I had a great time making him these really cute Sesame Street cupcakes...I won't tell you how long they took.  But if you'd like some - forget it.  This was probably a one time shot and only one other person in the world (right now) will ever get anything close to this.

The theme of the trip seemed to be babies!  In addition to Atlas, Paul's friend had a baby just days before we landed.  He was so small and looked just like his dad!  I admired him upstairs for a bit while his dad had band practice in the basement.  Live show!  It was pretty cool.

The next..and prettiest..baby was Allison Marie.  She has got to be the cutest little girl I've ever seen! (and she happens to look like me! :) )  Alli turned 5 weeks old while we were there and greeted me with a dirty diaper.  We met our niece during the second half of our trip in California where we spent a few days with my brother and sister-in-law.

When colleagues asked how my trip was I couldn't say fast enough: "Great! I met my niece! She is so cute!  She smiled at me!!!"  This is monumental because she is just starting to smile and I had played with her the night before.  In the morning as soon as she saw me she smiled. :)  Did I mention how adorable she is?

Besides the baby, I also got to see my entire immediate family in California!  My mom, dad, Paul and I cooked up a storm in the kitchen! They cooked, I poured flour all over the counter every hour and used up all of the butter.  Shawn and I read so many books to Alli and he was awesome just holding her and playing with her during tummy time.  Amy and I went to yoga.  That was the coolest yoga studio I've been to and blows anything I've seen in Israel so far out of the water.  It was really fun and I can't wait to go again next time I'm in Cali!  Dusty made some amazing waffles and gave us all a tour of the USS Midway.  We also snuck in a walk around the block, a trip to the zoo, and a few trips to the grocery store (the Salvation Army woman outside of the store made quite a pretty pen during my many mini-trips).

It was a super fun trip!  I wish we'd have had more time to hit up more locations and see more people.  On the bright side, we'll be back in March!

Wine Tasting, Camping and Minor Injuries

Last weekend was a lot of fun!  We did a wine tasting and camping trip that we've been wanting to do for quite some time.  And the best part was that we did it with a decent sized group of friends!  It was so much fun...that tomorrow night we are heading south for another trip (this time minus the wine).

When we were trying to find a time to go on this trip I went through the calendar and realized that we only have about 4 unclaimed weekends left in Israel.  I could go through each weekend and tell you what exciting plans we have - but I'll spare you.  Instead, the short version:  Ball, home, home, Paul to Africa, party, Christmas, Visitors, visitors and more visitors! Then....USA!!!  So this realization of only 4 free weekends was pretty interesting.  Really made us think we should make the most of every weekend left.

So the crew left from Tel Aviv on Saturday morning and the three car caravan pulled into Nazareth just before noon.  After all 12 of us used the teeny tiny restroom in the wine shop, we headed upstairs to find a large table with lots of cheese and meat and breads...and a table with lots of wine.  It was really fun.

We left there a bit later than expected...and got stuck in traffic somewhere between Nazareth and Cana (yes...the miracle at Cana..Jesus turned water into wine...we were just trying to experience history).  So we headed waay North to one of my favorite wineries. By the time we got there (2.5 hours after our apt.) it was cold and dark and we'd lost one vehicle which chose to go straight to the campsite.  The second winery was also a lot of fun, but cold. 

 From there we headed to a great campsite and set up tents in the dark.  Paul was just getting over a hurt ankle (from a running accident) and I slipped on some water and hurt my knee - so we were quite the damaged pair.  Regardless, we got the camp site set up and served up a great camping meal!  I remember this warm comforting soup my friend Lyndsi's dad used to make when I went camping with them.  I really wanted to make it, but it called for bacon and green beans...which are not in season.  Well, I was determined enough that I found both so we had beans n taters for dinner with couscous and hots.  Top that off with smores and you have some happy campers! 

Everyone who camped out just happened to be a big coffee drinker.  So in the morning three of us pulled out our ingenious way of making sure the group had coffee.  One guy brought a french press, another Turkish coffee, and I had my dad's percolator!  Needless to say, there was no shortage of delicious coffees to go with our eggs and bacon.  I'm telling you, this was not a tough camping trip.  More photos here (if the link works).

Halloween and Farewells at Work

I can only remember a few times when I've been more tired at work than right now, and they were all during grad school when work and school and friends competing for my precious sleeping time.  This week was on par with those days and I have no clue how I used to do it.

Last Year's Halloween

Halloween is one of the only holidays that we can celebrate at our work.  Everything else seems to be tied to a nation or religion that not everyone can buy into, or that offends at least a few people in the office.  But Halloween - I think no one really knows enough about it to be offended, and God knows they have kids.  An afternoon to bring in the kids, get free candy, practice English - they love it.  So the work Halloween party is crazy! (Not like a company Christmas party...more like a school carnival.)  Today at work there were sooo many kids running around on sugar highs and lots of people in costumes.

Rewind a few days.  One of our favorite colleagues is leaving.  This is part of life in the foreign service - everyone moves every 2-4 years so you get to know people just well enough to make the goodbye sad.  The guy who is leaving now is a great guy and awesome co-worker (in my office).  He's been over to our house a bunch of times for dinners and parties and for a few movie nights.  His request for his last night here - dinner and a movie at our place :)  It was a lot of fun (and a huge compliment) - but I was also making 4 cakes for his farewell on Friday.  Wednesday night was cake baking time in our house, and Thursday (after the movie was done and guests left at 1130pm) I started the frosting.  I didn't quite finish so I woke up early this morning to put the final touches on and throw all 4 cakes into boxes.  (Yaawwwnn!  5 hours of sleep was not enough!)

It had to have been one of the best lunches at work!  The guy who is leaving bought pizza for the entire Mission (25 pizzas) and because I was ordering we, of course, had gourmet pizza from the best pizza place in town :)  I enjoyed two pieces of arugula pizza followed by a slice of salted caramel cake!  Correction:  "a slice of the famous Vaca cake!" as the boss told everyone.  I heard from at least 5 people that I should open a store :) (and if our trip to Brazil didn't remind me why I got a degree I might just be working on a business plan!)  It was all very fun, and now (at 445pm) I am ready for bed.

More Israeli than the Israelis!

Yesterday at the grocery store I think we were more Israeli than the Israelis.  We gave them a taste of their own medicine! (Although they didn't mind as much as we do because it is normal to them.)  Here is the story:

You know the stereotype of penny pinching and watching the price of every item that scans?  Well that was me yesterday.  BUT...it was totally justified and in the end it turned out very well. 

Let's assume you are buying olive oil.  So when you go shopping in the grocery store here items are not always on the shelf where their price sticker is.  The bottles may have been put on the shelf above, below, or to the side depending on where there was space.  Luckily, you can read just enough Hebrew to match the price tag on the shelf to the name on the bottles.  Then you have to check the prices, the price on the shelf is not always the same as the price sticker on the bottle.  To go the extra step, see if all of the bottles have the same price on their stickers.  It could be the front bottle is 35 shekels, but the identical bottle just behind it is only 30 shekels (meanwhile, the price tag on the shelf says 32).  You obviously should take the bottle with the 30 shekel sticker on it.  You're final test is when you get to the checkout line - the price that rings up may  not match any of the three previously mentioned prices.  If it is lower, let it go.  If it is higher, the thing to do is to stop everything, hold up the line and demand the lowest of the four prices.  The people around you will either a.) roll their eyes and look for another line to go to because this will take a few minutes to resolve, b.) ignore you, leave their groceries as a place holder and run back for that carton of ice cream, or on rare occasions c.) get involved in the argument and tell the cashier that you have a right to the lower price.


Also, one last cultural thing before I get to the main part of this story, it is the holiday season here.  The high holidays include the Rosh Hashana (the new year) and Yom Kippur (the day of atonement).  Then right after those, they have Succot and Simhkat Torah. Line this up with Columbus Day and basically the whole month is holidays.  And the grocery stores run crazy specials right before the holidays, especially on wine, apples and honey (like how an American store might run a sale on champagne just before New Years or turkey and stuffing before Thanksgiving).


So...finally, the story.  We go to the grocery store with the intention of buying wine.  The price on the shelf says 3 bottles for 100 shekels.  The price sticker on the bottle says 57 shekels each.  Then I look at the bottle behind it...and it says 4 for 100 shekels.  Fast forward to the check-out line.  The bottles scan at 3 for 100 - but there is a sticker on each of the four bottles that says 4 for 100.  So I pull the chord and stop the line.  The cashier and I are awkwardly trying to explain to each other our points (using the simplest of phrases) when the lady behind me in line jumps in....and argues for me.  (You have to read this with your best Yiddish accent) "Just give it to them. The sticker says 4 for 100, give them 4 for 100."  She keeps going in Hebrew so that the cashier has to call the supervisor.  Once the supervisor comes she and the cashier are speaking and the nice lady smiles at us and then runs off to grab that ice cream that was for sale.  When she comes back they were still debating the price of the wine and the nice lady left for another register and a different woman is in line behind us. 

They always say something right before you pay asking if you want to buy this gum that is on sale or these batteries...something you don't need.  We always say no.  So they ask Paul (in Hebrew) if he'd like to buy the honey that is on sale for 1 shekel a jar. We have 2 full jars in our pantry and we don't go through it that fast.  "Lo, toda."  I kid you not, we were shamed into buying honey.  (Nice lady in English) "Come on! It is one shekel. Just buy the honey." Paul laughs, "we already have two jars at home."  "I'll buy it for you then!  It is only one shekel!"  (1 shekel is about 30 cents.)  Yes....we were shamed into buying a 1 shekel jar of honey.  Wine and honey.  If we'd have gotten the apples too we'd have been completely Jewish.


Meanwhile, the supervisor says something like "come here" (pointing to the main "service" counter) and walks me over (bottle of wine in hand) to the manager.  (Yes, this saga is still going on.  It has been like 5-10 minutes.)  They look at the receipt, back at the bottle, back at the receipt and the conversation all sounds like gibberish to me, I'm catching maybe every 5 words.  Finally, the supervisor goes behind the counter, does some magic on the computer (while other customers now roll their eyes because they have to wait) and eventually hands me the bottle and my receipt. "Shana Tova!!" (Happy New Year) she says and hands me my bottle of wine. 

I know it was a hassle, but I got that 57 shekel bottle of wine for free!  And it was the nicest that anyone has ever been to us in a grocery store here!  In fact, multiple people were nice to us!  I guess my tactic of being rude and stingy is actually the way to win them over.

Home Sweet Home - Part Two

During our first full weekend in the States we headed to New Jersey to see Paul’s family and attend the baptism of our nephew.  Though I missed the Brazilian dinner Paul’s brother and his fiancé made on Friday night, I heard great things about it.  We’ll have to have a cook-off one of these days!  Saturday brought more time with family and more great food.  “Pah, pah, pah, Paul” – It didn’t work.  The baby is still too young to pronounce the letter P, much less say Paul.  Maybe next time.

The reception for the baptism was before nighttime the Mass and once all of the guests were there, Paul’s sister told us she wasn’t 100% sure the Mass was going to be in English! Ha ha.  It was…and it wasn’t.  Half of the songs and half of the readings were in English.  The gospel and homily were done in both English and Spanish.  And the baptism was only in Spanish.  I was translating for Paul’s cousin which is pretty difficult given that I haven’t spoken Spanish in a year.  The church was packed and the mass was…long (3 hours).  After the part and the after-party, we went back to the hotel to hang out with Paul’s siblings.   

As I write about this all now I don’t know how we had the energy to do it all, but when you only have limited time back home with everyone you just subtract and hour of sleep and add a cup of coffee, and somehow it all works out.

Matty's Friend

A few weeks ago I posted about our "pet" praying mantis, Matty.  Well, we've been watching Matty grow and move around more, and yes, (s)he is still here.  Last week Paul commented on how much bigger and greener Matty is now.  Still not that big, but about the size of a grass hopper now.

So this morning I was pretty confused when I went to the plant.  "How thin you look Matt.  And oh so pale again."  Maybe the mantis is sick?  Have I been watering the plant too much? Not enough?  As I bent down to get a closer look something moved on a large leaf about 2 inches away.  It was Matty.  "But...if that is Matty (big and green), who is this little white guy?"

I have no clue where the new guy came from, but I hope Matty doesn't him.  He could not physically eat Matty as he is about 1/3 the size.  He?...she?...it is young.


If you can see the zoomed in view of the top picture, you would see that the new guy is basically transparent.  We can see four little dots in his stomach!  Probably his siblings.

A Delicious Little Corner

Paul flew out early Sunday morning for a conference in the Hague.  And while I was very jealous that he was off to a week in a beautiful country, I didn't sit around the house.  I went with some friends to the northern most tip of Israel to this delicious little corner.  I don't know exactly what the population of the town is (if it is even big enough to be a town), but they are on to something!  They have two wineries (one of which is my new favorite), a gourmet chocolate factory, and a small little restaurant that is raved about.   Oh...and fresh goat cheese made by the winemakers wife.  What a life!

First five wines we tasted at Pelter.

As we left Tel Aviv in the morning we picked out our wineries.  A well informed group we were.  We had recommendations (and driving directions) from friends, the most popular guide book, and the guide to Israeli wines. We had access to everything you could want to know about the wines....driving directions...well that was another story.  I successfully pointed out a shortcut absent from our directions.  But the second time I knew of an alternate route I kept my mouth shut, thinking the directions were a short-cut.  I should have spoken up.  We up the steepest curvy (poorly banked) roads.  I'd have taken a picture, but the military fence alongside the road said no photography.  Note to self - don't go that way ever again.

I'd been to the first winery before after a camping trip.  They weren't so nice to us, but I chalked that up to us making a reservation from the parking lot (they are big on reservations here) and showing up after a night of camping.  The second trip was as...lacking in hospitality and pleasantry.  A quick tour (the only cool part is their cellar) was followed by tasting 3 red wines.  I don't really care for their wine and two of the four wanted to buy whites.  Boo...

Then we headed up, up and up (to the highest elevation in that region) and as north as possible.  Finally, we came to a dead end:  right through a crossing or left to the winery.  Left Please!

Near the border...

The winery - Pelter Winery - could not have been more enjoyable!  First, the wine was delicious!  And instead of the three skimpy tastings at the previous winery, we tasted like 12 wines!  Second - he had fresh goat cheese laid out (which his wife made...they have 10 goats).  Third, it was so laid back.  He was tasting with us and wasn't tapping his foot waiting for us to finish. Fourth - the winemaker himself was hanging out with us!  Fifth, I don't really remember - but we did ask if there was a bed and breakfast in that town also, or at least a good (safe) camping spot.  It is like 30 minutes above the Sea of Galilee, so I think we'll be heading up there in a few weeks for a culinary camping trip! :)

Bags of Pelter Wine in the trunk on the way home.

Where in the world are...jen and paul vaca? (You're supposed to sing that)

I knew when we signed up for the foreign service that we would be doing a lot of traveling, but I didn’t think we’d be doing this much!  Paul especially!  As of two weeks ago, we are counting down our time in Israel by trips and visits.  When I was little and wanted to know when mass would be over, I’d ask my mom how many more songs they were going to sing.  That was a fun way to count, but this even more fun! 

Two weeks ago we unexpectedly made a trip back to the States for Paul’s grandmother’s funeral (she was 104 years old!).  While it is a sad reason for travel, we are always so happy to be back in the U.S. and especially when we get to spend time with family.  (Funny side story:  as soon as we get out of the airport, I sit on a bench next to a stranger who is also waiting for a ride and he is speaking on the phone….in Hebrew.  He lives just 15 miles from us here.)  The trip was so short, but we so enjoyed every minute (and fought the jetlag for every waking moment) that it felt like much longer.   

On the way home we had a lovely 15 hour layover in Amsterdam!  At least it sounded lovely.  We landed at about 6am and after washing up in the airport bathroom, we headed out into the city…which was still asleep.  Luckily we didn’t see anyone we knew there because I’m sure we were a pair of walking zombies.  Three nights before we were flying to the States (and slept about 5 hours each).  The next two nights we were jetlagged, but managed to sleep for about 7 hours out of pure exhaustion.  The third night we were flying back and the poorly timed dinner and early breakfast made for at most 4 hours of sleep. Listen to me, complaining about an international trip and chance to see Amsterdam!  It was lovely.  We went back to the Van Gough Museum, took a nap in the park, had a delicious traditional meal, and walked a few miles around the city.  This has become normal for us.

Now we’re back in Israel.  But not for long.  Paul is heading out to the Hague this weekend (which is a 20 minute metro ride from Amsterdam).  Two weeks after he returns we’ll be heading to Brazil for Greg and Mafe’s wedding, stopping in London for long layers on each leg of the trip!  (I’ve wanted to go here since I was 10 years old!  Time to brush up on that Portuguese.)  A few weeks after that trip we’ll hopefully start our U.S. tour (California and Connecticut…and maybe Ohio and New York?).  If all goes well the first visitors will arrive the day we get back.  Jill and Mitch have tickets! And then hopefully two or three more visitors…then we’ll be packing up our house and we’re done with Israel. 

We heard a joke a while ago that now seems so true: “You know you’re in the Foreign Service when your favorite coffee shop is in the Amsterdam airport.”  (When I read that now I don’t think it will be funny for you.  But it is for us, because it is so true.  We know the departure times and flight plans by heart, and we either know the layover cities or know someone who knows them well, so we become experts at the 8 hour vacation/tour – Newark, Philly, Amsterdam, London and Frankfurt.  Any one of them could be inserted into that joke.  We even know which terminal the flights go into and out of in Newark.  It is really weird.)

To the Party...or is it a Protest?

What to wear…what to wear.  The events email I got this week talked about all the bands that would be playing concerts tonight in support of the protest.  They are protesting the cost of living in Tel Aviv.  Actually, this is like ten small protests all coming together and the binding thread is the cost of living. 


It all started with a young orthodox guy who created a facebook page to protest cottage cheese (there is only 1 or 2 producers and it is really expensive!  Like $4 or $5 for a 10oz container).  Then a 26 year old girl who mad at her landlord did the same thing for rent prices.  
 
 This snowballed into a “tent city” on the most popular street in the city, then a 50,000 protest two weeks ago, 150,000 last week, and 300,000 this weekend.  Before you start to get a wave of anxious fear, the papers are saying the protests are more like street parties than protests.

So…the dangly earrings?  These seem a bit too party-ish for a protest.  Hmm…how about a casual dressed up look that looks effortless (but really takes me 45 minutes).  A casual cotton T-shirt with a touch of sparkle, hair pulled back, small earrings, and the obligatory across the shoulder crunchy protest purse (packed with an id, enough money for a cab home, a camera and two beers – there is no open container law here).

When we walk out of the house there are 6 tour buses parked on our corner.  There is a band playing from the second story balcony.  I’d stay to listen but it is in Hebrew and I want to see the main event.  The general crowd is moving towards the city center like a swarm of bees towards honey.  Most of them look like they are about to go grocery shopping, no signs, no hippy clothes…just normal people. 
 As we get close we can feel the excitement rising with the beating of drums.  We squeeze past the groups of young adults chatting with their friends (one of them brought a sign), past the strollers, the dad with his 6 year old daughter on his shoulder, past the families who just came to watch.  There are as many people marching as there are watching.

The march is the exciting part.  It is moving slowly – like an unorganized parade that got really scrunched up.  Each group has a banner or poster and some even have people in costumes, group T-shirts, or instruments.  We can’t really read the signs, most of them are in Hebrew.  The chants are in Hebrew as well, also very unorganized, but supposedly they are saying something like “the people demand social justice.”  We see one sign in Arabic and one in English.  We see a guy on stilts, some orthodox guys, guys with drums, a Che Guevara shirts…mostly just normal people aged 20-50. 

Looking around we can see that the walls lining the sidewalks have become benches for supporters with cameras and every other rooftop and window facing the street is packed.  “Jen, Paul.  How are you guys?”  Who would have thought, a crowd of 300,000 and we run into someone we know.  He is actually one of the two big wine experts in the country and – lucky for us! – he is carrying wine! J  The march is winding down so we head towards this great pizza place downtown and share a pizza that tasted like it had been dipped in truffle!  Of course, paired perfectly with a great bottle of wine.  We probably wouldn’t have gotten a table if we hadn’t been with the wine guy as the place was packed with hungry “protesters” (catch the irony here – the protest is on the cost of living in Tel Aviv, and they are going straight from the protest to the pizza place to enjoy $24 pizza).

It was fun.  And if the government doesn’t do something I am sure we’ll have the opportunity go again next weekend. 

My Pet Matty

If you're my brother Dusty, you know what this is about and you are probably laughing at me :)  Still - I think it is cool. 

I'll come right out and tell you.  Matty is a praying mantis. 

I was walking past one of the trees in our house (we have a lot of plants) and I noticed a bug on the wall.  I pulled my hand, prepared my swing, and half way through the execution - I stopped.  Oh...my...gosh.  I almost broke the law.  Wait...that doesn't make sense.  When I was little we though killing a praying mantis was against the law.  Now, as I almost accidentally (ehhhh) killed one, I am realizing that if I had killed it no one would have come in and done and investigation.  They wouldn't have given me a huge fine and I surely wouldn't have been carried off in handcuffs.  Still...I felt bad.

I did a bit of research and it turns out killing praying mantis isn't against the law.  So I did it.  Whhhap!  Just kidding!  The myth about killing a praying mantis probably came about because they are such valuable creatures in a garden.  They don't eat any of the good stuff, but eat the bugs that are attacking your plants - similar to lady bugs.  (And then I remembered the plague of lady bugs that tried to take over Ohio a few years back.)  I only have one praying mantis so it probably won't be a plague...and even if there were two, the female would eat the male so the population wouldn't grow too quickly.  I digress....

Matty is in the center of this picture.

So Matty is a great sign for our garden, except she isn't in the garden.  (My cousin Mitch told me Matty was actually a she.)  She is on the solitary pepper plant (next to the tree).  The plant itself came from the compost bin, quite by mistake.  The peppers are too hot for me to eat, but apparently Matty loves it. 

For the past 3 weeks we've been able to find Matty everyday, hanging out (usually upside down) on her pepper plant.  Sometime she climbs up to the top of tree.  Sometimes she hides.  Usually she hides.  She is pretty scared of us and didn't much care for the photo shoot (but if it didn't get the pictures you all wouldn't believe me).  She also really does not like Roomba (our robot vacuum cleaner). 
 
I don't know how long Matty will stay with us - but for the time being, I'm just going to be happy that our little plant is healthy and sturdy and up to the standards of this little guy....gal. (PS.  If you can see the up close photo...she looks a lot like an alien.)

The Bid List (Duh duh duuuuhhh)

The Bid List just came out!  We are very excited as we’ve been waiting for it to come out and now the office is a buzz.  “Did you see the one in India?” “There were 9 in Kabul!” “I think there are 3 more spots left in Baghdad.” “If this is posted this year, then it should be posted again in about 2 years.”  While we understand all of this, the most confusing part for you is probably why in the world we would say “We want to go to Kabul, Afghanistan.”  So…I’m going to translate this Foreign Service talk into English for you.

First – What is a bid?  A bid is basically a job application. Paul already has a job, but he applies (or bids) on different positions around the world every few years.  Some of the positions are for 1 year; his position now is for two years; some are three, and some are four.  It just depends on the country and the position.  “I’m going to bid on Afghanistan” = “I’m going to apply for a position in Afghanistan.”

Next – What is THE bid list?  THE bid list is the list of all of the open (or soon-to-be open) positions worldwide that Paul can bid on.  It just came out!  Up until know we have just been guessing and hoping, but now was can see what is actually possible.

So…What do you mean when you say “MY Bid List” – this is a prioritized list of positions that we would like. 

Now.  Let’s start this over again. The Big List just came out!!!  Paul and I are in the process of putting together his bid list now.  The order of operations here is that Paul bids, within about a month we find out if he got any of the positions we bid on.  If he did, we contact the Post (the Embassy community he’ll be working at) and start the process of finding me a job.  This process is slightly different for Afghanistan because I can’t go unless I have a job, but at the same time, they have a lot of jobs so it is pretty likely I’ll be able to get one.

“How does it look?” (This would be the question you’d ask in response to this news).  Basically there are a few positions in Afghanistan that we're looking into and given the large number of positions in Afghanistan, it seems pretty likely that if we want to go there, we’ll be going there.  We are doing this for the first time, so we’re learning what questions need to be asked (such as:  what may become available in 2 months that we don’t know about yet? And how far ahead can we plan?).

As you may have heard, we are hoping to go to Afghanistan.  It is not so much that we WANT to be there - but it is the least bad of the bad options that we have to choose sometime in the next few years (And we prefer to face it sooner rather than later).  Kabul, Afghanistan is also comparatively safe and that Post has the most positions for spouses (so the greatest likelihood that I can go).  Also, two of our friends just arrived last week and would still be there for first two months - so we could go through it with friends and have a nice introduction.  AND, it will be much easier for us to get a post that we really want (you basically get to be first in line the next time you bid and you’re given priority, similar to affirmative action).  Next, this will be a big career boost for Paul because of the huge amounts of work he’ll be doing and the people he’ll meet (there are like 5 Ambassadors there).  Not to mention I can probably get a really good job there - challenging and focusing on democracy or strategy - so good for my career prospects as well (there is so much good work to be done, they are happy to have people skilled enough to do it). 

So complicated.  There is also the long-shot bid which would be a dream come true, but I don’t want to jinx event the 1/1,000,000 (one in a million) chance we have of getting it so I won’t tell you about it.  We’ll keep you updated when we know anything more! 

Yoga by the Sea

There are quite a few yoga studios here in Tel Aviv and my friend Katie found a pretty good one last year.  We had both just arrived so it was a fun thing for us to do together.  But...yoga lessons get pretty expensive, especially in Tel Aviv!  Well, that studio went under (ha! that is funny because it was located in a basement!).  So Katie and I haven't really gone to yoga together since last summer.

Last week I heard about yoga lessons in the park...by the Sea...at sunset.  :)  The announcement was in one of a hand-full of English language listserves that I'm on but, like most everything on the that list, when you follow the link for more details it is only in Hebrew.  Still, Katie and I decided to give it a try.

The park is about 200 or 300 yards long, so we showed up at 630pm and started looking for someone else with a yoga mat.  When we couldn't find them we decided to try the phone number listed on the all Hebrew page.  A really nice girl answered and told us they'd moved the class back to 7pm (no surprise), and exactly where to meet.

The class was only 5 students and the instructor.  The sun set during the class and it surprisingly wasn't so hot, but it was humid.  At about the time we were doing warrior 2 (kind of squatting down with your arms out like you have a bow and arrow), a bridge (hands and feet on the ground, stomach to the sky, bent backwards like a bridge), and some other pose were you balance on your shoulders with your feet in the air...when we were doing those, small groups decided they'd stop and watch.  This was the intimidating part of this class, especially for someone who hasn't done yoga in a year.  We may have been the evening entertainment for some of the groups on the beach, but I think it was worth it.

She stuck in her thumb and pulled out a cherry!

It is cherry season again in Israel.  This is one of the things we like about it here – we always and only eat what is in season.  I think we’ve bought one bag of frozen veggies, and it is still in the freezer.  Otherwise, the market is full of the freshest produce when it is in season.
We really should have tracked the seasons so that we can tell people who are coming when to expect what (and when to be ready to not be able to find something).  Strawberry season, for example, is March/April and avocado season ends just before 5 de Mayo.  But anyway – now it is cherry season which means most of the fruit stands in the market have huge piles of cherries! 

There were wild fires on the way up there.

Last year I made my grandma Schuett’s cherry soup!  I don’t think I ever ate it when she made it, but I inherited her recipe and it was delicious!  I bought a kilo of fresh cherries (I don’t know how much that is in pounds…I’ve been out of the States for long enough to not know how much a pound of cherries or chicken is.  But I know how much 200 grams of cheese is and how much 1 kilo of cherries is.  They will take you about 45 minutes to an hour to pit with a hairpin – another cherry secret passed down from Grandma.).

This year I thought I’d take it a step further.  It wasn’t enough to make my own cherry pie from scratch, or pit my own fresh cherries…no…this year – I wanted to pick my own cherries!

My friend Claudia and I drove to the northern most Northern tip of Israel (we were literally only kilometers from Jordan and kilometers from Syria – no, I don’t know how far in miles).  There was a fruit orchard with tons of cherry trees and…ready for it…RASPBERRY BUSHES!  These were the only bushes I’ve seen in all of Israel…and there were fewer bushes for the whole country than there were in my backyard growing up.  Nonetheless, after crawling on my hands and knees for 30 minutes, I found 12 raspberries!  The 20 seconds that those little berries dripped down my fingers and melted in my mouth were magical!

Anyway – back to those cherries.  At first we were like kids in Willie Wanka’s factory, eating cherries off of every tree.  Then we started to get full, so we got pickier and only ate the darkest berries that were warmed with sunlight.  Then we would only eat one from a tree – unless that one tasted good, then we’d try another from that tree.  Eventually my stomach started to hurt, so we moved to the raspberries and eventually decided to fill my bucket with the cherries (instead of my mouth).

I think I succeeded in eating my fill!  And then, with the kilo of cherries I hand-picked myself, I made a delicious cherry pie!  Mmmm.

We always see Israelis jumping into flower beds or behind bushes to take pictures.  This is our ode to the Isreali cherry pickers.

Life in Paris

Neighborhood Fromagerie

Paris was a really great trip – one of my favorites – but you probably got that from the last post.  What you probably didn’t get is what we actually DID in Paris.  So here is a brief rundown of the trip.

We rented an apartment that we found listed online.  We did this in Germany too – it was a great time and we’ll probably do it again on our next trip!  I landed a few hours before Paul, so I dropped the bag at the apt. and headed out walking.  I think I walked a spiral around our apartment trying to get the feel of the neighborhood (which was awesome!) and eventually made my way to the water, hoping for my first glimpse of the either the Eifel Tower or the Louvre.  Right as I sat down with my map – Paul called.  I quickly walked back to the apartment (okay...I had to go quickly to make up for the time spent in a scarf shop on the way there).

Friends recommended a few places for dinner, but it wasn’t even dark yet so we decided to walk and see if we found something cute and popular.  By the time the sun set and we’d found a place it was 10pm.  This happened most nights because a.) the sun set late, b.) we were snacking at every cheese shop we passed, and c.) we were just not paying attention to the time. 

Butcher in a market.

The next day was more walking, we do this a lot when we’re in a new city.  I think we’ve made my dad walk about 10 miles every day on every trip he makes to see us.  We even made my mom and little brother walk about that far at about 5am in January (yes, it was cold!).  Back to Paris…

We did picnics in the parks, at the Eifel Tower, walked around the beautiful neighborhoods, went to church, stopped at cafes, tasted tarts…it was wonderful.  What we didn’t do was museums or tours or schedules.  Paul had a conference to attend on the last three days so I wandered by myself.  The first thing I did was go to the Lourve. 

Lost.

I thought I’d spend hours enjoying the art – I was out of there so fast.  Too many tourists, not enough (if any) abstract pieces.  I had lunch with a friend and she pointed me in the right direction, to a museum full of abstract art from Monet and the Duffy brothers.  Well…there went my afternoon!  It was wonderful.  I was in such a good mood that I got lost walking back to the hotel…but getting lost in Paris means you end up in another beautiful neighborhood with a beautiful bridge and gold statues! 

On the second to last day I discovered the joy of shopping in Paris!  Yes, it took me that long.  I went into 5 Zarras (yes, I know they are all the same, but maybe I missed something in the first four!).  I loved every store and the experience of trying on clothes was so much fun!  They were so friendly (Voila! Here is the dressing room) and so cute when I didn’t buy the clothes (C’est non?!?).  And when I did buy something I was surprised by the price – I conveniently forgot to look up the exchange rate so everything at least looked cheap (I think the real price was about 20% higher) and a lot of times things were on sale (but there was no sale sign).

The last day in Paris was a wild goose chase as I went searching for that scarf shop from the first day.  I was in a hurry the first day so I didn’t actually BUY the scarf, but the thought of having it taunted me the whole trip.  Again, I spiraled the neighborhood for about 2 hours before giving up…and then there it was!  In my last few hours I grabbed a scarf, some macaroons, two limes (we usually can’t buy them here) and jumped on the metro.  The city really felt like home from the minute I got there, making the six days feel like I’d been there for months.  Sitting on the plane I was listening to my music and it sounded happier.  The people looked happier, the food tasted better.  Now it seems like it was such a short trip, taken so long ago. 

Picnic with a view.