Last lefts

I intentionally slept poorly last night, or at least that's what I will tell myself, but a tired body is part of my master plan to help increse the odds of a solid sleep on the flight. So up I get, and I spend some time talking science and math with Rafi. That's how tired I was. I was talking science and math. I wasn't making much sense but that's par for the course. Eventually, I worked up the energy to eat so he and I went off in search of a last day's journey into lunch.

I had noticed that Kuba place (called Varda maybe?) opposite Power Coffee Works and today was the perfect opportunity to try it. I'm a fool for kubas (or kibbehs or whatever you want to call them -- ground meat and spices and pine nuts in a corn meal crust) so I wanted to indulge my foolishness. I said my goodbyes to Eli (he's my nephew) as he returned to base and I left with Rafi. As we approached, I pointed out to him that I would not be getting any coffee because I noticed that the Poqwer Coffee Works was being staffed by that same 12 year old who served me a sad excuse for a decaf on my first trip out last week. Fool me once, whatever. Fool me twice and that's bad so cut that out.

At the kuba place, I perused the menu and discovered that their idea of kubas was more like a kreplach, served in a soup. I didn't sign up for soup and soup isn't what I wanted so we bade a hasty farewell to the purveryor and Rafi said that he knew a place in the shuk called Tzidkiyahu that had kubes. We left unenkubaed and crossed over to Machaneh Yehudah. There are, by the way, enough restaurants just on Agrippas that I could spend an entire vacation just eating up and down the block and still have places left over at the end. That sounds like a plan. Remind me to write that down as a plan.

The place Rafi recommended was not a restaurant but a take out place and they had a pile of kubas there all sad and cold. We rescued 8 of them and asked the gentleman to heat them up in the microwave. They ended up somewhat warm and soggy but the flavor was spot on. Yum, in its own way. Then we turned around and saw a juice place and we ordered a large pomegranate juice for each of us. I was approached by a gentleman who asked me for charity and said he was hungry. Then he asked me to by him a carrot juice. That, I was willing to do (6 shekel). People just walk up to you and ask for food, money or bus fare. I don't judge but, what the hey?

Next stop, the candy store, so I could pick up a Pesek Zman for a neighbor. I don't like buying that stuff because it encourages people to put hazelnuts in things and I'm allergic to hazel nuts and would rather they all die and suffer in the fiery pits of hell. But I bought one and Rafi got me a bag so I wouldn't even have to touch the wrapper. then back to the house so I could start watching the clock, pacing and fretting.

A big cultural difference -- Sunday is a full-on weekday. This makes the waning hours of shabbat more stressful (IMHO). Sure, you might get Friday off but then all your "day off" energy is focused on shabbat prep. Meh. Also, elementary school students here have substantial and daily homework over the summer. While Avital and Eyal had their review work, Nava studied math intensely, as she is retaking a bagrut exam tomorrow. She did fine the first time, but she feels she can do better. And she's mighty cool and awesome and stuff so I'm just saying that I believe in her and her success and work ethic.

Then the text came -- my flight, scheduled to leave at 1:30 AM was moved to a 4:50 departure. There is one kind of change that I have the most trouble with and that's the kind where there is change. Some people would be excited at the opportunity to do more stuff, see more things or whatever but I am not one of thsoe people, Heck, I'm not ANY of those people. I had set up a schedule accounting for everything from my sleeping to my eating to my packing and to everything else and this one text threw it all into a state of higgledy piggledy (a real mess). I was on a particular particular trajectory of anxiety, scheduled to culminate at 7 when I would leave for the train. Now suddenly, I was at a 4pm anxiety when I would be anxious all the way to 10PM. This is not good. I had already mapped out my pacing routine and I had to go pack to the drawing board and reevaluate EVERYTHING. 

On the plus side, as it was approaching dinner, this afforded me an chance to try one more place so we all (David, Nomi, Eyal, Yoni, Avital and I, with Nava's order memorized) went to New Deli (Sandwich, Sandwich -- the store so nice, they named it sandwich). I have walked by various branches of this chain but have never gone in, let alone tried the food. So tonight, in honor of my delayed flight and as a final thank you to the hosts with the mosts, I chose it.

To list what veryone got would take too long, so I'll stick to what I got, a salisbury steak type sandwich (which, of course, should be "sammich" but they just aren't that progressive) with doubvle meat, and onion rings with a sriracha dipping sauce. To drink, a mineral water (which, translated to English is "water"). Surprisingly great. Good sized sammich, yummy rings, quick service, reasonable cost. The stuff other people ordered also looked really good, good enough that I would certainly go back in the future. I paced while eating so i am pretty sure that I added no calories to my daily intake. I also watched people walking around Agrippas.

One thing I miss when I leave (and I know I have mentioned this before) is the feeling I have of belonging. I know I don't totally belong because I'm a dumb American tourist, but the people, regardless of their color or race, their personal level of religiosity, or even religion, are all, in an essential way, like me. We share something vital and unique and the we of we are all everywhere. Maybe this wouldn't hold true in other cities, but who cares. I was strolling and jaywalking on Agrippas and I felt like I was an equal part of something really special. Darn that was a good sammich.

Back to the house to do some more clock watching. I had set up a time to leave so that I could make the 10:02 train. Nomi, David, Rafi and I left at 9:45 and got to the station at 10:11. But who cares. I knew that there was a 10:32 train and I had plenty of time to make that. Nomi had helped me recharge the rav kav card and it was a real relief to have people accompanying me and schlepping my bags. With all the changes, due to constant construction, I would never have found the entrance to the station without them. I left them once I bought my ticket and I made it down to platforms 1-4. I hadn't looked to see which platform held the train I wanted and there were trains just sitting at, I don't know,  3 or 4 (H/T Pete Puma). The one on track 3 had a sign asking people not to get on. The one on 4 had no sign at all but people were getting on.  I chanced it and got on. I wasn't sure if the trains were like Metro North trains at Grand Central that sit, waiting 30 minutes before departure, or if this train would leave earlier and the correct train would pull up at 10:31 while I was on the way to Syria.

And my mosquito bite itches.

I was still possessed of all sorts of questions. Would they allow me to check in so early? Should I nap? I really do know nothing but, as they say in Israel, "מה?" I do have to send another thank you note to the entire of the Swidler clan. This trip was a blast. I hope this blog post qualifies because I'm not going to remember to...

The train ended up being the right one and 25 uneventful minutes later, I pulled in to the airport. Up to the 3rd floor for departures, into the check in line. Yes, yes, I know I already checked in over the interwebz and I could just go to an automated kiosk and print up baggage labels, then leave my bags in a pile somewhere to be moved. But you know what? I prefer working with people. I like someone to blame. Also, if my bag is a little overweight, a person can make allowances or grant favors to a pathetic American dad. A machine can't.

My suitcase clocked in at 22.5kg (booyeah!) and they didn't ask nuthin' about my carry-on so I moved to security. The guy also said something about going somewhere to pick up a card for coffee or milk, as recompense for the delaying of the flight but I didn't really hear or understand him and I have no interest in coffee or milk. Off to security. I don't know if it is because I'm early or because they have changed  things, but I was able to get x-rayed and scanned before the room that herds everyone into a mass of undiffferentiated lines, and I didn't have to take off my shoes. By 11:22 I was walking down the big ramp towards the food court. This big circular area has indorr rainfall in the center, and birds are flying around. I wandered a bit and found a bunch of yummy looking kosher restaurants. I conidered getting a McDonald's shake but apparently, no such thing exists. They have McFlurries and that was tempting but I noticed that a standard add-on was hazel nuts so the spectre of cross contamination reared its butt ugly head and I had to back away slowly. Also, I had had a fairly large sized meal somewhat recently so I just had no appetite. How depressing is that? I'm finally at the airport early enough to eat and there are interesting places to eat but I'm still stuffed from dinner. I looked into getting a soda at one fo the shops and saw that they were charging $3.50 for a can of soda. Not cool.

I made it to the gate listed on my ticket and saw that on the big board, a different gate was listed. I asked a dapper young man what the story was and he said "I guess the gate is changed" but that didn't tell me which one was right. I decided to keep it a mystery. We'll see what happens.

Now I have 3 hours to kill, no charging ports for my phone and I'm feeling very tired. This hould be interesting. Next stop? Not sure. Stay tuned.