Many days, many stories

 Yes, yes, I know I haven't updated this recently and, no doubt, avid readers are stabbing themselves in grief at not having every detail of my trip at the ready so I apologize. Some things are better left unsaid so once I figure out what those are, I'll know what not to write.

I will begin on Friday evening as shabbos descended. It was a quiet and low key meal -- the kind you can have when there are only 18 people at the table. Guests galore and there was singing and stories and food to beat the band. Lunch was more people and more food. You aren't hearing me complain. I ate the food and ignored the people. It was glorious. Nomi and I went out quickly after shabbos and then I read some more. I am glad I know how to read because if I couldn't read, I wouldn't have anything to do when I'm not writing.

Sunday, I wandered into the mist in the midst of Jeruslaem.  I walked up to Agrippas and turned right to find the Maccabi building so I could visit with Steve L. He had a nice chair and people getting him tea and such and all he had to do was sit there and get pumped full of drugs. I'm not saying I am jealous, but it did look like a comfy chair. Steve, Senja and I spoke about the past, the present and, you guessed it, the weather. When I left, the mist had coalesced into active rain. I had a positive Zoom meeting and then decided to be Living on Tasha Time. Seven bus to the 22 and then to Tasha's place. As if it was actually that simple. Intermittent internet and construction zones everywhere made the supposedly simple task of walking from the bus to the apartment much more complicated. For me. I navigated the public transport admirably. The private service my legs provided was where it all fell apart. So maybe I turned the wrong way. Maybe I couldn't find the apartment or the proper entrance to the building. Maybe a lot of things. This is how rumors start. And truths, too.

I imagin it was easier to give someone directions in old Western towns which had just a Main Street. A guy comes up to you and says, "howdy mister -- how do I get to Main Street?" and you say, "Well sir, you see that road over there? You take that and you are on Main Street." "Great," he responds, "And where is the bank?" I answer, "It is on the right side, on Main Street. Take that street over there and look to the right." And then he says, "Thanks! And where is the saloon?" So I tell him, "You walk out of the bank -- you'll be on Main Street, turn around and walk back in. That's also the saloon."

Even I wouldn't get lost. Maybe. 

Tasha and I chatted like two sort of adults. She's a neuro scientist and I am a neurotic uncle so we have much in common. She told me about her kids and her apartment and her job and all the things that amaze me, considering that in my mind, she is still 4 years old. Then, as the kids tucked into some Wacky Mac (god, I love Wacky Mac), I retraced my steps (sans the getting lost part) and found the 22 bus back to KKL/King George. I found Pastito and ordered Mac and Cheese, garlic knots and a beer. The garlic knots were incredible, the mac and cheese was pretty ok (but it was no Wacky Mac...geez...the Wacky Mac people should be paying me for my effusive support of their product. Hey, Wacky Mac people, I love your stuff. Send me money!) and the beer made me not care about anything else. It was exactly what a tired tummy needed on a cold, and a rainy day. Where on earth is the sun, anyway? (Natalie Merchant, either I owe you or you owe me for that shout out. Let's call it even.) I weathered the weather and started walking back, taking a quick stop at a grocery store so I could buy a package of Liebers sammich cookies (think low-rent Oreos). Some survived the walk back. Not many, but some.

On the walk back, I ran into a Frisch colleague, D. Stein, and two of her kids. She had been trying to get my attention but I was distracted by the call of the cookies. I offered them some cookies and they said no. More for me. They continued on to shop while I rolled my way home. More Jack Reacher (thanks, Zevi!) and sleep.

Up at a relatively normal time because I had places to be and people to meet. I felt that I was really adjusting to the time difference which signalled to me that my trip was coming to a close. Off to the central train station because I stood the best chance of finding a train there. On the way, 2 people asked me for directions. One, an older woman, asked in English without any hesitation. The other was a younger man who asked in Hebrew, also without pause. Clearly, I come off as different to different people -- to older women I'm ignorant and younger men see me as uninformed. I ran into a former Frisch student in the station and we caught up quickly as I tried to find the right platform. I took a 732 train (that's its number, not a time) to Tel Aviv. At whatever station I detrained I switched over to the train that was to take me to the Holon Junction. Good news -- I got on the right train. Bad news? Wrong direction. I had to get off after a couple of stops to find the right train going the other way. Time for a Sprite Zero (they should also be sending me swag for all the plugs I give them) because the correct train in the correct direction wasn't coming for 30 minutes. This is why I always leave early and build in substantial time for me to get lost and still get places on time. Eventually I got to my destination.

After my meeting, I was given a ride back to "the" roundabout and was pointed in the direction of the train station. The gentleman who drove me assured me that it was a "5 minute walk." Now here are some possibilities:

1. They don't actually know what "5 minute walk" means and they use it as an idiom to mean an indeterminate period of time under an hour

2. They are all superheroes who can fly and they mistook me for the same, whereas, in truth I am the human equivalent of the baby of a sloth and a slug -- a slog.

3. Time flows differently here because of a warpin of the space-time continuum.

They all seem like reasonable options and I'm not sure which one it is, but that was no 5 minute walk. And, by the way, a 5 minute walk is no joke, especially in the rain.

Back at the station, I scoped out the trains and saw that one listed "All Tel Aviv stops" so I hopped on it. My English is apparently rusty as the phrase actually means "all the Tel Aviv stops except the one you want." I got off at the same stop at which I had flipped directions earlier and I flipped yet again. Savidor Center and I are now tight. I found a train back which stopped where I needed it to. Sure, all trains lead to Rome, but they don't all stop at the airport so you can transfer to the Venice train.

I got back into Jerusalem and decided to grab some food and pay for it. Bissarabak is the place. I got Asado Balls, a burger and a beer. Hey, Carlsberg people, I have name checked you plenty. How about a free case of beer for my efforts? Call me, maybe. The asado balls were sweet (think a sweet pulled brisket in a crispy coating). The burger was fantastic. My order was not supposed to come with fries but there were fries there! I told the guy behind the counter, and tried to pay but he comped me. I got rizz, no? The fries were ridiculously good, and not just because they were free. They were hot and really crispy and had potato in them. Who knew? Me. I knew. There was no place on the ordering kiosk to say "no raw onion" so I got onion on my burger and figured I would try it. Now I know why people order a burger with raw onions on it -- they are insane.

I picked up a bottle of "Gat" juice just to try it out. It tasted like (very expensive) pomegranate juice. No effects, but some nasty side effects. Let us never speak of the short cut again. Back to N+D for a relaxing afternoon/evening of reading and finishing off some more cookies. Part of the reason that there are gaps here is because I was really trying to do nothing. I wanted to relax and that's what I did, and there isn't much to report about that except ahhhhhhhhhh. And repeat.

Monday night held no sleep for me. Maybe it was my Tuesday meeting, maybe the upcoming flight, maybe the residual effect of the Gat juice. Who knows, but I finally dozed for an hour, starting at 6:30. So I started the day with a cup of tea and I finished grading the first set of papers. The ones that I expected to have finished about a week ago, so I'm right off schedule. Huzzah. Only a million more to go.

David and I went to Gan Sippor down the block for a brunch. I got a pizza with burata on it (that's a cheese bag, cheese bag) and a cup of Turkish Coffee, hold the accent. David had a little baby macchiato (or however you spell it) and some toast with stuff on it including a soft boiled egg. It was warm and filling, and balsamic vinegar on pizza isn't bad. Back to the house for some more reading (I finished a book and I can't remember the title or author -- it was that good) and hanging out with family.

My flight is scheduled for Wednesday, 9AM. The problem this presented was that I knew that if I stayed at the house and tried to get up at 4AM to schlep my overweight bag (because it is filled with overweight clothes, worn by an overweight man) up all the hills to the train station, I would be crazed and worried all night. Instead, I went early (and Yoni did the actual schlepping -- KUDOS to YONI! and was satisfied with getting to the airport 11 hours early and sitting.

So that's where I find me now: in Ben Gurion, drinking a Sprite Zero and looking at the clock every five minutes, waiting until 5 AM so I can check my baggage. I'm pretty much hopeless and crazy, but damned relaxed right now.

Unless something interesting happens, I expect to close out the coverage of my trip now (though I might have more to report vis-a-vis the wait, the flight and the ride back to my apartment, but I want to give a super-dee-duper shout out to the hosts with the mosts, David and Nomi. They housed me, entertained me and fed me and have been helping me out in so many different ways, so public appreciation! Thanks, you crazy kids. And thanks to the nieces and nephews I met along the way. Signing out until something else interesting happens.

Ketching Up

 Dinner on Wednesday was a quick walk up to Agrippas to Burger Market. I think I have been there before but it seemed like a reasonable choice. Their menu had 2 main-course options: Burger and Vegetarian burger. Guess what I had! (hint, I am not a communist)

I ordered a burger with extra meat on top, hold the raw onion. Fries on the side and a Carlsberg. There was some confusion on what I wordered, whether I paid and what I paid for because the automated ordering kiosk chose not to communicate my order to the men behind the counter. So I ordered again, and this time, I guy wrote my order down with a magic marker, on a piece of scrap paper. Much more efficient that way. I ate successfully (any meal you can roll away from is a good meal)

Back to the house and I saw Eli and cousin Elish. They went out to buy stuff for a birthday party and I asked them to pick up a Cookie Monster (in Hebrew, Jookie Monster) onesie PJ for me. It cost 100 Shekel but he got it for 40. SCORE. The rest of the evening was schmoozing with Eli, Elish, friend Ilan and whoever else happened to be around. Then Jack Reacher, 3 hours of reels and bed.

Thursday was a food focused day (making it markedly different from exactly no other days). I met Jeff Oshin at the Columbia store on Agrippas (I like Columbia clothing but those prices were at least one decimal point too high for those products) and we walked to Mike's. Jeff got the buffalo chicken strips which were spicy. I ordered a Guiness as my appetizer. Strong move. Chatted with the owner and we knew some people in common and some common people. Jeff and I caught up and discussed Israel, and food and stuff. He had a New York burger and I had a double Mike's burger. TWO LAYERS OF MIKE!

It was a wonderful meal with wonderful company so that was pretty awesome. I finished just in time to get lost on my way to dinner. I used my phone to get me to ShlomTziyon Hamalka but it kept giving me directions which seemed rather confusing. I had recalled that the street was easy to find but the phone made it unduly difficult. I believe the street must have moved because my phone was in the same place. So I put the phone away and relied on luck which paid off. This is the kind of street which one can only find when not looking for it. I met up with Nomi and Eyal at Chicken Chips (these chips don't lie) and we bellied up to the barstools and ordered.  I started with 500 ml of Muller beer and then had five pieces of crunchy chicken. They make each order to order so there is some wait time. I filled it by talking to a cat and drinking a beer. Possibly vice versa. Nomi got a sammich of crispy chicken on bread with lettuce on the side. Some things don't change. The fries were just meh but the chicken was very nice!

During the various walks, I ran into a Karben, some Mershons  and a 5 students (after a few hours, I remembered 3 first-last name and 1 first name and one no name but I should know) from Touro and Stern. Back to the homestead. Thus endeth the Thursday night.

This morning Nomi and I took a walk to look at some stuff and then back here to get ready for Shabbos. Wishing all a great Shabbos and a happy everything else!

Making the grade

 Tuesday morning, I decided to stay in. I was here to chew gum and grade papers, and I was all out of gum. The weather validated my decision -- gusty winds and driving rain made the entire of outside even more uninviting than I find it usually is. 

While I worked, I had an idea. This is never a good idea. My having an idea is not a good idea. I decided to download the WOLT (delivery) App and try it out. I found a restaurant called Halati, in Hebrew Challahti (I think their sammiches are served on challah). David got a pulled beef sammich on some sort of bread (possibly challah). I searched the menu for the word "fried" and then clicked "select all" and "add to cart." Forty minutes later, a guy on a motorcycle drove up and handed me a bag. They estimated the time would be an hour but he was 20 minutes early. That was unexpected, but welcome.

We sat with Avital (Yoni is sick on the couch and Eyal is at a Yom Patu'ach for Shefa) and ate. The sweet potato fries were a bit סגי but the onion rings were crispy. The kubas were kubalicious. I got the schnitzel strips. They have an interesting recipe. First you pound out the chicken breasts incredibly thin. Then you slice it up and put it on the side and go ahead and just fry the crunchy outside. Serve and enjoy! Now back to work.

I learned something interesting about the weather in Israel. In the US, when the temperature goes down a degree, that is 1 degree. But in Israel, when the temp drops from "17" to "16" that means it dropped 36 degrees (or maybe 2.2. I'm not really a math guy and I rarely go outside). The evening concluded with some more Jack Reacher and a few hours of Reels. By 2:30AM I had exhausted the internet's store of videos so I decided to try and fall asleep. I awoke at 8:05 and checked my phone, only to find that there had been more videos uploaded while I slept so I dutifully started watching. I got up at 10 and added money to my Rav Kav. This would guarantee that I don't use public transportation!

I walked out into the mist, the midst of it. The drizzle was light and actually refreshing -- the only thing missing was some warm sunshine. Mist and light rain would work so well with sun but unfortunately, it was cloudy here.

Continuing down Ben Yehudah. It was mostly empty because of the inclementine weather (it is orange and sweet outside) and there was a lack of buskers. Because of this I was able to hear essence of Jerusalem, the natural sounds of antiquity and the beating heart of the Jewish people: EDM blasting out of the Cellular stores and construction vehicles backing up. It is like stepping back 2000 years!

Continuing down, I approached the old city and sunlight broke through. It was a sign to me -- a sign that I could take my hood off. So I followed God's edict and took off my hood!  I entered the old city through the Jaffa Gate and walked a route that I could walk with my eyes closed (though I don't recommend it -- you hit a lot of stuff) but I could not explain to anyone else. I finally made it to the entrance to find the entrance was closed and I had to walk back to the main entrance. I made sure to open my eyes for this part. I got to the wall and had a heart to heart with God.  There is much construction even at the wall plaza and the idea that they are doing construction there makes me wish for future construction there as well. I hope that in the beis hamikdash, when it is rebuilt, there will be a separate room for Ashkenazi sacrifices, otherwise I'm going to be so lost.

And they will have break-away showbread. There, I said it.

It is humbling to be in the presence of so much living history. If you go to historical sites, you usually end up looking at the past. At the kotel, you see the past, present and future at the same time. We visit not to remember, but to reconnect with a living and breathing wall. There are no ghosts but there are millions of souls. And also no wifi. So there's that.

A shacharit minyan was just wrapping up while I was tghere which means it is time for mincha. I sat for the 16 minute lull until the first opportunity to daven mincha approached. We started a minute before the earliest time so we hit the Amida right at 12:18. Bam. I overheard a tour guide give a totlly inaccurate explanation of Jewish prayer to some tourists. I felt at peace. As mincha time approached, the various sections started recruiting people and tried to attract people to any one of a bunch of different minyanim. I was reminded of restaurant owners who stand outside their restaurants trying to entice passers by during the off season. The guy in charge of the minyan in which I davened kept shouting that this was a "super minyan." I assume that's because I was there. How could it not be?

Eventually I walked back to the square by the Churva synagogue and thought about food. I saw 2 pizza places. The first had no seating and, as it was raining and cold, I had just climbed 8,000 steps, I opted out. The one next door had seating so I waited to order. And waited. It seems that there was only one guy working the counter and he was also making pizzas to order and waiting for them to cook. The guy in front of me had asked for 5 different and customized pies so nothing got done while the proprietor made each from scratch to spec. Eventually he heated up 2 slices for me. The crust was doughy and chewy and there was very little sauce. The cheese was middle of the road, nothing special. But it was heated up and I got to sit. I continued my walk back (I saw a former student in the old city but I don't remember her name...don't tell her; I am so embarrassed. Then right after she passed, I saw a woman and her child -- she said "is that Rabbi Rosen?" so I smiled and waved. They waved back. I haven't the slightest idea who they are).

I left the old city and started up Yaffo. Suddenly I see (suddenly I see) another pizza place (Pizza Mamila). By law, I had to stop in and try it out. It was a little dry and I think they used a premade crust but it was fast and hot and tasted ok. Nothing to write home about, so if you are in my home, please don't read this. I saw the Liskers as I crossed to the top of Betazlel and I waved hi to them and then I let myself roll down until I returned to N+D.

Now I will sit and try to grade some more papers (I got 1 done so far today...at this rate my students will be in graduate school before they get these papers back) and rub my ever growing belly.

travel day

 First off, an important announcement: I SLEPT LAST NIGHT.

Next, let's retrace my steps to explain how I got to that momentous event.

Monday morning, I did not feel fine. I had set an alarm but then, out of an abundance of caution, I made sure not to sleep at all beforehand, so I was up on time. And I felt gross because, no sleep make Dan something something. I filled the time with both tossing AND turning, and a Jack Reacher novel (The Secret). No spoilers but the secret is that Reacher doesn't die. Boom.

I prepared for my trip to Hod Hasharon which is Hebrew for "the Hod of the Sharon." You're welcome. On Sunday, the directions said to take a 930 bus from the bus station, Monday, the directions said to take the 950 bus. Inflation in Israel is mad crazy. I walked to the bus station and I didn't get lost because I walked uphill. I found me way to platform 17 on the third floor. I got on the bus, already proud of myself for not getting lost and being able to read the numbers 17, 3 and 950 in Hebrew. I sat down and quickly checked my phone. I had a missed call and a message both telling me that my 10AM appointment was canceled. I called back and said that I was already on the bus (true) and they said to come at 11. Then, a minute later, the bus began to go so I stayed on it. The message had said that I had not reconfirmed that I was coming. True, but I didn't know I had to so there's that.

The bus started moving and so did my stomach. Between the 1 cup of Earl Grey (hot) tea, the lack of sleep and the herky jerky motion of the bus, I was in a bad way. But, if you checked this motning's news, there was no story of "grumpy tourist caffeinates a 950 bus riders without permission" so I somehow kept it together, not resting, not relaxing. Just feeling hot and nauseous. I got to my stop and let Google Maps help me know where to walk. The route it gave was inexact, but so am I. I walked the 10 minutes to my appointment, had a grand old time there, and then found Brian. Brian and I drove to pick his daughter up (I would not be lying when I said that Brian entered the secure campus of the school by telling the guard he was going to visit the dairy called Edna -- please ask no questions for I have no answers). Then to drop Elise home in Tel Aviv, and off to his office.

I failed completely at helping his wife with a pdf, and then he and I went down to the lobby (you have to indicate your destination before you get on the elevator, and then it tells you which elevator to take. Once you get on, no changing your mind! There are no buttons in the elevator so if you miss something, gotta start over. We crossed from the lobby to the food court in the adjoing mall (which also served the connected Tel Aviv Medical Center). Apparently all the food is kosher except for McDonald's. Just like in the US! We went to Al Dente. He got salad and I got pizza. Very buttery and crispy. Good flavor. I got two slices to go and they stacked them in a bag. No boxes here.

Brian then gave me directions to the central train station. They seemed simple enough but just to be sure, I also loaded them into Google Maps and expected a seamless transition from feet to wheels. Not so much. The maps had me walking and suddenly being on a train in the middle of the street. I crossed, recrossed (both legally and not), walked up and back and simply could not magically be on a train. I asked a guy on the street (who was also not on a train) and he referred me back the way I came. So I walked back and found some stairs that headed down and there was a clip art of a train so I figured I was in business. Clearly, I'm not a business man. Inside the station, I couldn't find anything that mentioned a train to Modi'in (which was my destination -- I wasn't just capriciously looking for that) so I asked a guy in the control room. He told me that the train was up so I had to leave, go in a certain direction, then go there. I thanked him for the precision, left the station and walked a bit and across a street and found another set of stairs. I ended up on the other end of the exact same station. So much for directions. I asked the security woman and she said I had to walk to the bus terminal and I would see a sign for the trains. It was a blue sign. Now THAT resonated with me, so I walked back up and scanned the various horizons until I founf (no where near where either Brian or Google told me to go) a blue sign that said something cryptic like "Central Train Station." That train must have been the right one because I did not have to go down to get to it. My theory holds true. The right way is up. I arrived just in time to miss my train so I took the opportunity not to get on the train I missed but instead to wait for the next one. Never one to miss an opportunity am I.

The 121 train from Tel Aviv to Paatei Modi'in was about 8 stops of quiet. Very nice. I davened mincha on the train, and exited the station. Avrum picked me up and we drove from the station to a shul for ma'ariv and then to his house. He lives in a suburb of Modi'in (which to my mind, is like living in a suburb of a suburb, but what do I know?). We sat in his house and I schmoozed with him, Eliana and Orli. We played with a relatively new baby, talked about times, old and new (and pending). We ordered from Alesh (a meat restaurant). I got a burger and fries. The fries were too much, if you know Aramaic) but the hot and yummy. I had asked for them to hold the onion from my burger but I needn't have worried. All the toppings were packed separately so I could build-a-burger to my own specs. I added pickles and tomatoes and fries. There were kebabs, fried cauliflower,  rice and beans (or vice versa, I don't judge), and Seven-Up Zero (who knew?). I ate well, making only a couple of mistakes.

Phone calls were made, plans laid, and much rejoicing in the streets. Then a ride to another train station, goodbyes and see you laters exchanged and I went in for my rides back. The first thing to know is that there was no train to Jerusalem. Next, I had to figure that any train going in approximately the right direction would stop at the airport and I knew I could transfer there. So I found the next train to leave for Naharia and hopped on. Two stops later, airport, and then a switch. While waiting for the Jerusalem train, a soldier asked me to watch his stuff as he ran to the restroom. I was guarding the guardsmen and it felt cool. I sat on the train next to an Arab family coming back from vacation. They had 2 kids and the younger one (a girl) was having none of it. She must have been about 3 and unhappy about something. But a crying screaming child did not bother me. First, I wasn't intending to sleep anyway and second, it reminded me of my own children who used to cry and scream endlessly as recently as last week. (I kid because I can -- I love my grown, adult, mature children. When I find them, I'll let you know).

Jerusalem was windy. Exceptionally windy. But I finally knew how to get back to N+D's house without getting lost so I opted for that. In the house got myself ready for bed (10:15) read "King Matt" for a while and then, it seems, got a reasonable night's sleep as the wind howled, the rain poured and the rest of the responsible people did whatever life demanded of them. Breakfast has been a cup of NON caffeinated tea and a good stretch.

My plans for today? I think I might write some follow UP emails, and grade papers. Thanks for asking.

So in sum, I took a bus, 3 cars, and 3 trains and lived to tell the tale. As a public-transport-a-phobe this was quite the break through. Alert the media!

Sunday in the Park, then gorge

 Sunday morning I sure felt fine. Well, not so much. Saturday night's sleep began at 11ish and stalled out at 1:30. I fell back asleep a few hours later and then it was 10AM. I'm sure I was asleep but I have no memory of it. No proof. Pics or it didn't happen. But if you have pics, you are going to get arrested. Stop stalking me. Or don't. It's really OK.

I started walking up Bezalel and I noticed how curteous and conscientious the drivers are here. Here's an example -- I was walking past a pedestrian mall area and noticed a car on it. It was moving back and forth. Finally, it adjusted itself into a parking mode, properly behind the car in front of it which was also parked on a pedestrian mall area. 

My daily goal was to grade my papers. To that end, I was marginally successful.

Jerusalem, in terms of food options is an embarrassment of riches. I left the house expecting to get coffee, but I saw so many different places to eat that I didn't want to limit myself to coffee. But every time I saw a place I wanted to consider, I thought of any number of reasons not to. I wanted to wait and see what else was available, or maybe I didn't want to be fleishig, or I did, or I simply didn't know. I also didn't want to go some place I had been before and yet I didn't want to risk not liking the food at a new place. So I ended up at Big Apple Pizza just because. It is much easier to be lazy.

I stopped along the way to grade papers, but it was tough to focus because it was a lovely day and I hate grading papers. I saw a Seidman along the way and eventually wandered my way (I had been strolling through the shuk and all around the area) back to N+D and I availed myself of their resources (mostly a couch). Then Eyal and I both went for a walk. I, to capture and consume a dinner and he, to make sure I made it back OK. David recommended "Joseph's" and I am not one to argue with a recommendation.  We were both successful -- I got a Sloppy Joseph (that's what it is called on the menu), plus sweet potato chips, and a couple o' beers. Then back to the house for an evening of talking to family and reading.

Tomorrow, my aim is to take a public bus BY MYSELF! I'm a little nervous. Wish me luck and let's hope that my next post doesn't include words like "lost" and "Young Israel of Riyadh." More later.

Sat, you are. Day/Night

 Ah the Shabbos. A time to refresh, reflect and eat too much. Mission accomplished!

The Shabbat preparations carried us through the afternoon with people dropping by to bring stuff and others coming to avail themselves of rooms and beds. Two girls were staying (Aliza and Rina, one from Toronto and one from Dallas, both learning at a mich-something, somewhere. Huzzah). Dinner was populated by (and no, don't say this in one breath):

Swidlers (N, D, R, Y, A, N, E)

a passel of girls studying in various seminaries. By passel, I say "10, at least." Dinner was delish and the Swidlers turned into Les Mis in that there was no dialogue unless it was sung. While the eating, laughing and singing were happening, we heard noise outside and we all went quiet. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Thirty-seven yeshiva boys came in. Perfectly reasonable. They filled the house with good cheer and oppressive wild-boy hormones. I moved to the couch. At some point two of the boys saw me sitting there avoiding everyone, so they came over to have pity on an old man. It seems that the Yeshiva on this block is a large draw from Flatbush and Magen David. A little Jewish geography was played. After more singing, the boys left and invited me to Gan Sacher. Now, maybe they were inviting the seminary girls but I prefer to think that they wanted to hang out with me. I have very shapely legs. 

Sleep thought itself muktzah so it stayed away from me. Up on Shabbos morning and to shul. Then after a really nice davening, we return for lunch. Lunch was populated by

Swidlers (N, D, E, Y, R, A, N)

Swidler parents (S+S)

Eisenbergs (Ch and Mo)

Nava's friend

Violet and her two daughters

Some guy named "Daniel" (besides me -- 2 Daniels at the table. Hilarity did not ensue)

It was Taco Shabbos (chicken, ground beef, pulled beef, rice, string beans, other veggies and a bunch of other stuff, then chocolate torte, popcorn and cookies for dessert)

Some more singing (but no descent of locusts). And then we sat and schmoozed for a while. Then back to shul for mincha and then more schmoozing.

As a change of pace, I would like to close this post with an actual dvar Torah that I came up with after hearing the Friday night vort at Kol Rinah. During that discussion, Dayan and Rabbi Rubanowitz mentioned an interesting fact -- God's name doesn't appear in much of the first chapters of the book of Exodus.

So I checked and I found that, indeed, the name of God appears sparingly. Then I noticed a detail having to do with WHICH name of God is eventually used.

The midwives, it is said, were fearful of "Elokim." They acted as they did, saving the Hebrew children because they feared Elokim. They were rewarded by Elokim. The name then disappears until a new king shows up (2:23 ish) and the people cry out to Elokim. The name Elokim is then repeated 4 more times.

What is the significance of the specific and repeated use of the name Elokim? Why didn't they cry out to Hashem (the 4 letter name)?

Elokim signifies the trait of justice of God while the 4 letter name points to mercy. When the midwives acted, they weren't afraid of the God who is merciful. They knew right from wrong and ignored the king's command because ultimate justice comes from the King, not the king. They made a decision to rely on a transcendent right and wrong and not the edict of the human person and they were rewarded for doing the right thing.

And do we think that the whole time the Jews were being oppressed they didn't pray for redemption, for saving, for something? I think they did pray, but they prayed to Hashem, asking for mercy. Was it mercy for them, or for their oppressors? I don't know, but it took until the new king arose before they finally focused their prayers on asking for justice. It was justice that heard them and justice that acted. While it is important to recognize that we must ask for mercy, at a certain point, we have to look at things and say "this just isn't right" and ask for the strict measure of Hashem's justice to set things aright. I believe that the people shied away from this and used it as a last resort because we are always afraid that if we ask Hashem for justice he will apply that same standard to us, but in this case, we were blameless so appealing for justice had no blow back on the people.

We must do what is right and stand for what is right. Then we can be assured that we will be on the right side of things when the verdict comes down because the God of Justice will reward us as he did the midwives. Right now the world is full of challenges and violence. We must make sure we stand on the side of justice and Hashem's laws so when we need Him, we can appeal to the middah of justice.

Just a thought.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe seeing some friends, maybe taking a walk, maybe getting some mac and cheese. Who knows? The future is wide open.

Ps. I ran into 2 former students this afternoon (Akiva Goldsmith and Bella Shatzkes) and they were fun to chat with and I wish them much success. 

Time Zoning Out

Hello all. If you are wondering, no I did not sleep well. My body, even when it has been conditioned to believe that 3 in the afternoon is really 10 at night has decided that one does not need to go to sleep at 10 at night anymore. Wouldn't 3 in the morning be better? No, it will not, I respond and I consider the implications for 4 hours until I doze off enough to realize that it is 10AM somewhere and I should probably stop trying.

The less said about that, the better, so I say, in terms of sleep, "less." And since less is more, maybe I can get more sleep. I now recap Thursday.

I awoke and took some time to become human and then I went for a walk. My goals generally involved food. When I am here there are a couple of sine qua nons: Moshiko's (done), pomegranate juice, PowerWorks coffee. I found the pomegranate kiosk first (yay Etrog Man). Food goals are measured in storefront form. I ordered the super mega triple gonzo big chug which has 142 ounces of seedless in Seattle. The guy squozed the necessary crate of 'granates (I'm on a last name basis) and I waited impatiently. Eventually I dove in (it was that big). While he was squashing fruit, he tried to sell me on a cream that you put on your finger and rub under your nose and it smells like mint, lemon and ginger. This is designed to help cure sinus cloggage, migraines and scrofula. I'm not sure what scrofula is but I don't have it, so the product works! I chose not to buy it, but for the balance of the day, whenever I breathed in, I didn't have scrofula, but I smelled my own finger, and that doesn't help anyone.

People don't realize how crazy sweet good 'granate juice. In America, it isn't toot suite. I sat and savored the sweet and the sun. And the doggos. On to more walking down Ben Yehuda and back up Yaffo. I found the new location for Power Coffee works but I was too stuffed with juice to get anything. I shall save the other for another day.

Side note -- when I say that everything is uphill, clearly I am not being serious and literal. The only places that are uphill are the places to which you want to go. That's how you know you are lost. If you go downhill, you aren't going uphill so you clearly don't want to go there and ergot (sick) you are lost.

I sashayed through the shuk and saw a place called Bomba Pizza. Now, I wasn't on a pizza quest but I still felt that I needed to keep my hand in the game so I tried a slice. VERY thin crust and a sweet sauce. The flavor was good so I added garlic. I like that I can stop most anyplace for a slice, and sit on the street eating it, and then I can walk to another pizza place. That is freedom. And gluttony. I remember that my ancestors fought for my right to pizza. Twelve NIS for a slice. In real money, that's 62.71 Rand.

As I was eating, a woman walked by and said "bete'avon lecha" for no reason. I thought she would eventually ask for money, but she didn't. She was just being spontaneously nice! To me! Pizza and good will? This place rocks. 

Who knew I would be so full after a slice and a gallon plus of juice?

I noticed that many (at least 3) store names were not transliterations of English (which is annoying because I spend hours trying to understand the Hebrew, only to find that were simply taking an English word and transliterating) but had the English name with Hebrew vowel points underneath. They love English. Why not just use English then? Instead they constantly pander to "Hebrew speakers."

I got back to N+D and tried to restore non-feeling to my shins. Then, I went to pick Eyal up at the Gymnasium. In Hebrew, the G is pronounced as a G not a J. For a J, you need to have any other letter with an apostrophe. So you use a Jaled, or a Jamed or Juf. Hebrew is mystical like that. I took a benadryl to help me sleep. It failed, but I now have one fewer thing to carry. It is currently tomorrow mid-day and I have spent my morning doing a whole lot of nothing, which is as it should be. Shabbat is coming and we're so happy. I have a Nava next to me with her (she is eating apples and peanut butter, flavored with onions). Avital is making chocolate infused dough. Yoni has eaten pizza. Eyal is on his way back from another school's open house. The cookies are on the track (will anyone get that reference?) Tonight, there will be 18 people and tomorrow, 19. Natural expansion, you see.

I assume I will get back to this after Shabbat (either Sat. night or Sunday morning here). So to all of youse, I wish you whatever it is you would appreciate if I wished you.

In which I don't know what day it is

 I will now try to catch you up on the entire of yesterday leading up to today, but I shall do so without knowng exactly what day it was and/or is. The jet lag adjustment has been only middling so far so my mind is mostly in between reality zones (they are like time zones, but not for time, hence the name).

So welcome to Tues  Wednesday.  I slept fairly well and comprehensively thanks to such things as a bed and a blanket and a sleeping pill. I woke up refreshed and ready for a nap. Eventually, I realized I would need to get going so I came upstairs in time to take a nap. I saw avital as she left for school and then Eyal and I played my daily, online brain games to ensure that the zombies will get a good meal out of me. The boy also played Pips wich is like dominoes with math. I see no reason to participate in such a travesty. Math. Amirite? Eyal then made himself a breakfast of an omelet and jachnun. I aspire to have my face on the side of a jachnun box one day.

We walked to the light rail and light rode to Har Herzl (my first executive decision will be to add some sort of letter to the second syllable of his name, and maybe even introduce the Z to a T...Har Hertzel. Yeah. That works. So it shall be done! We got on the light rail and then, a few stops later, we had to get out of one car and go into a different car. I'm not sure why but I trust Eyal. He also told me I have to pay again even though we got right back on to the same train. I did because I trust Eyal. He then laughed because Simon didn't say, so I had to go sit on the side until next game. I met a former student (named Douek. When I knew him he had less beard, or possibly fewer). Then off the train and up the hill to the Yom Patuach (open house) for Yeshivat Netiv Meir, which Eyal is looking at. When I walked in with him, the security guard asked me my business there, so I said I was with the boy. Then he asked me (in Hebrew) if I was carrying a weapon. I laughed and surrendered to him because I'm not a gun carrying guy.

I walked up to the fourth floor and spoke with some people there, then I walked down to the first floor and left. I decidd to walk back -- how bad could it be as it was just 8 stops on the light rail. All I needed to do was follow the light rail back and I would save all that money on the train fare. Stickin' it to the man. That's how I walk. The flaw in the plan was that it relied on my good judgment. I should have known that it was a bad idea, simply because it was mine. I walked. It seemed a reasonable task and I even stumbled upon another place at which I wanted to speak to some poeple, so that was convenient if not tiring. (ask me about this place in person -- the front entrance was actually around the back) Then things went downhill, but only briefly because then things went back uphill. Israel is the old country. How can I tell? I recall all the stories from the old country. In those stories my elders always said that the walk somewhere was "uphill both ways." That's clearly Jerusalem. It was uphill in all directions. You went uphill only to discover that in some escherian way, you were at the bottom of another hill. And also completely lost because while bemoaning the hills you forgot to follow the tracks.

[I recall the events of one of my favorite books, "The Man Who Stole the Atlantic Ocean" in which the main character gets lost while already being lost.]

I found my way through Romema and Zichron Moshe where all sorts of people knew where they were. I onged for that sense of place and comfort so I sat on a bench and pretended to know where I was. I did this many times on my trip and I think it worked because no one came up to me and asked "are you lost?" By sheer luck and the fact the Israel is not a large country, I eventually found a street I recognized (though I had never seen it from the back) and I finished my one hour walk in a record time of two hours. [In an effort to save money, I am leaving my phone on wifi only. I figured that I could find someplace with free wifi so as to save the 12 bucks a day. My stubborness served me poorly yet again as I could not find said wifi and could not call a cab, pull up a map or play any games. Torture.]

Time for a quick turnaround during which I decked myself out in a suit, ran my fingers through my lack of hair and headed out to the number 7 bus towards First Station. Sometimes it seems that Jerusalem is a city of buses as there are so many. This was not one of those times. There weren't any buses for a while so my carefully crafted schedule was tossed into a carefully crafted trash can. Fifteen minutes later, the 7 appeared as if by driving. Along the way, I connected to the bus wifi so I was able to become nauseated more efficiently. Science! The bus worked its way through the traffic (half the streets closed, half the streets pregnant, MASH reference). We made it to First Station and I debussyed with no idea where to go to find the taxi. This was compounded by the fact that the bus drove away with my wifi. Because I needed to be in contact with the others waiting for me in the cab, I turned my phone on. But everytime a bus drove by, my phone attempted to connect to it so the roaming 4G service I was hoping for never stood a chance. It took a series of missed calls and panicked wanderings before a gentleman named Benji found me and took me through a completely unintuitive path to a parking lot that I would never have found on my own. I have always depended on the pity and competence of strangers. Into the cab and onward.

We drove through a series of side streets (in Israel, you get everywhere via detours and side streets which is why invading armies have trouble) until we arrived at Neve Ilan (Kedma). Into the wedding we went (how exciting!!!) I found me some Lauderdales, an Aunt Marci and other refugees from the US who chose to invasively colonize Palestine, appropriate its culture and force evil western values upon the peacful and indigenous cats. True fact, the plethora of cats are NOT indigenous to the area. They were brought in to get rid of the dogs. In Israel, cause and effect go from right to left. I was introduced to other people in all sorts of professions. I quickly excused myself as meeting people makes me social and I can't have that. I ate some food. There were bao buns, and Thailandian bowls of things. I also had an orange soup.

The wedding was conducted much like the in-flight safety video on El Al except instead of being in Hebrew and English, it was in English and Portuguese.  The bride's side is from Brazil, and not the one in Indiana (h/t Rafi for the research). I feel like the next time I go on an international flight, I might smash a plastic cup and shout Mazal Tov after the last announcement. I look forward to flying Air Brazil because now I will know if anyone is getting married on board.

We settled in for the chupah -- I asked Steve if I could sit on his lap but he said "take a number." The others who had asked were better looking than I so I slinked, slanked slunk away and sat on a couch next to a cat.

The order of operations at the wedding was basically what I recognized but with a twist. Dani and his parents walked first and then Dani made a Shehechyanu on the talit that he put on. Parts of the ketubah were read and translated but not the whole thing because I was told there would be no math. As soon as Dani put the ring on Bruna and said the magic words, everyone (who was so inclined to express human emotion, so not me) erupted in joy and song. I was sitting next to a cat. What more joy could there be? After the reading of the ketubah, Dani gave it to Bruna and said "harei ze ketubatech" and there was much rejoicing.

The 7 blessings were made by a variety of dignitaries, uncles and dignified uncles. Each blessing was explained in English and Brazilian (I don't know how to spell Portuguese) and then the band played on.  Then we moved into the grand room for the meal and dancing and laser light show. I ate some bread, had some falafel and skipped the appetizer (there were two options, one had pistachios and the other, kalamata olives. I am possibly allergic to the former and the latter is a crime against humanity and possibly some other species). For the main course, I chose the Asado which is Israeli for "cow." It was served on a puree but, strangely, the menu did not say "of what." I ate it. It was definitely a puree. There was also a small tomato which looked like a planet. I don't eat planets. Gotta have rules in life, friend.

At the crack of 11:15 three of us got into a taxi for the ride back. We needed to be back before I turned into a goon. The cab guy did not drop us off at First Station but instead, took each of us to our ultimate location. I got back to N+D and prepared to go to bed. First, there were a couple of phone calls to make (and answer) then, conked out.

This morning (rumor has it that today is now Thursday) I woke up at around 8 and got up to daven. Towards the end of davening I began to feel faint and sick, so I immediately got back in bed. That cured me. Two more hours of sleep is what the doctor ordered (so now I have to pay a co-pay) and now, it is already afternoon and I have yet to wake up fully. I shall persevere. Today's plan involves maybe a cup of pomegranate juice, and maybe a walk. Or both. More events as updates warrant.

Plane and Simple

So here I am. This, on any random day is probably true. But now, the here is not where the here sometimes is. I have jaunted and find myself in the Holy Land. So I will begin by catching you all up to speed. So on your marks, get set, and etc!

Six months of waiting culminated in my not being able to sleep on Sunday night because I knew that Monday, I was to get on an aeroplane and soar above the clouds and lose more sleep. After a few fitful hours, I got up and readied myself for the trip to Kennedy Airport. It used to be known as Idlewild Airport until someone said that that name was taken by La Guardia. For a while it was known as Lincoln Center but that was already taken. Eventually, they settled on Kennedy's name and we shall see if it escapes updating by our crouching tiger hidden president. Randy drove me and we followed Waze's recommendation that we drive in circles for half an hour, as that would still be faster than the Van Wyck. We arrived at terminal 4 and I wended my way through the various lines at which my bag was weighed, and counted and found the opposite of wanting. I was there early but not ridiculously so. I know this because my bag didn't come out last when I arrived!

Through the various levels of scrutiny and on my way to gate A4. I know that that particular detail doesn't matter to most people, but I write for the out-liers, the ones who know that details like "A4" make the story come alive. All you other slaggers can just deal with it. The plane (The Jerusalem of Gold) is a 787 of some sort but it looked little compared to some other jumbo jets. I caught a quick mincha in the terminal with other, likeminded Jews, and then I (as a proud member of Zone F) boarded the plane and found 35K (exit row, against the wall -- no real window to look through). The configuration was 3-3-3. I made sure, before take off to avail myself of part of a little pill that promised to knock me out for the duration of the flight. Spoiler alert, it did next to nothing. I did doze, but I was crazy cold (I think they closed the screen door, but left the actual door open to invite visitors at 40,000 feet). I used 2 blankets and had a jacket on, but I could not get cozy and warm. Add to that that "comfortable" was not in the lexicon of whoever designed the 787 and you have a recipe for a lot of sitting around and being anxious and annoyed. I did doze a bit, but on the whole, it was a wakey wakey eggs and subzero temps. Also, because this exit row was an exit row, there was a lot of extra space for me to wal around. Except I didn't want to walk around because I wanted to sleep. Fortunately, a few other families made use of the extra space to hold their constantly screaming and crying children. The kids took shifts, don't worry. The 2 year old would scream while the newborn slept, and the newborn would scream while the 2 year old was out getting smokes. Team work makes the dreams impossible.

We landed at Ben Gurion before I knew it, but after I knew it also. Xanax did have some effect. I got off at Ben Gurion and things moved nicely until I got to passport control. I arrived right at 7AM which is a shift change I think. As we waited on line, the people in the little kiosks who interview us and ask us for our social plans WHEN THEY DON'T EVEN WANT TO DATE YOU! left. New people showed up a little while later and the line had grown appreciably. I appreciated it because I didn't have to wait on it.

Then I followed signs to the train station. It was not where I left it. I had to walk out of the airport, walk down the sidewalk and then back in. The ticket cost 21 Shkalim (I had 32 in my pocket) in both English and Hebrew which I find highly suspicious. Twenty-something minutes later, I arrived at the Yirzchak Navon station (just rolls of the tongue, donit?) Then I walked to N+D's house. I schlepped my overweight baggage and my suitcase towards their house. Because of the ever changing construction, I had to use my standard method of dead reckoning, aiming at a general direction where I assumed I would find Korazin. Eventually, I found the right street and got to the house. I let myself in with the key that is hidden in the  fkjsdfh and the combination is 47267664 .  David came home a few minutes later and we chatted (I had had time to daven, don't worry). I was torn between two competing options: I could stay up, power through and make it until the evening so as to help my system to catch up, or I could take a nap which would, no doubt, further ruin my sleep patterns. So I made the obvious choice and took a nap. The nap was great but I woke up with the trifecta of confusion -- I didn't know where I was, when I was and why I was.

I went to sit in the sun which was really nice. I spoke with some local cats (not slang, for cool people...I just like talking to the strays wandering the streets. They have such a refreshing perspective. People walked by and a couple asked me (in Hebrew!) for directions. My ignorance knows no bounds so I made sure to give them the wrong information in a variety of languages that neither of us spoke.

Andi dropped by so I could transfer the Dunkin Donuts coffee and coffee mug that I transported on her behalf. Apparently, I was carrying it for a Frisch family (the Frankels?) so I can probably write the whole trip off as a business expense. If you think that that is wrong, keep it to yourself. You can't spell fraud without FU.

Yoni and I then went for a walk. He had to pick up his glasses (mishtkafreilach I think). We wandered back by way of Ben Yehuda and I stopped off at Moshikos (by law, I have to check in there within 36 hours of landing or I can be jailed I think). Dang their falafel is delicious, and it doesn't fall apart as you eat through it. But don't eat through it. It is mine. I am going to eat through it. Then, for Yoni, we went to Sam's Bagels so Yoni could explain the finer points of "mac and cheese" in Israel. I am now educated. Ask me something, I dare you.

"Mozzarella." Bam.

I saw another optical store, called "Optical Shesh Shesh". It seems to be the case that in Israel, no one cares if you have 20-20 vision. You have to have 6-6 vision. Their tests are hard.  We finished up at Sam's and headed back to the house because Yoni had to be elsewhere at elsetime. I saw Eyal briefly (he is now sitting on the couch, engrossed by a computer but hey, so am I), and then I realized it was 6:30 local time (they do time here in metric so you have to take the local time, multiply it by 2.2 and add 32. It is very complex, but that's how they do things in the second world.

The Hebrew word for students is studentim which sounds to me like Sudetenland. I don't know what to do with that realization, but there you go.

I presume that i will do little of significance this evening, but tomorrow, I will accompany Eyal as he looks at a school. Then I will return and get gussied up for the OSHIN WEDDING which is the primary reason that I felt empowered to come to Israel now.

More when more happens. Stay fresh, cheese bags.

World Hunger, My attempt to solve

 So by now most of you have heard about world hunger and realize that it is not a fun thing, the way we were promised it would be (remember the ad campaign for "World Hunger Day"? That didn't end up being so much fun, did it?) So what can we do to fix it.

Well, I sat down with my closest advisors (a small flashlight, a cup of peppermint tea and a nickel from 1949) and tried to solve this thing so that we can go back to just eating and not feeling guilt for doing so. I wanted to make use of existing food sources so as not t tax our already delicate ecosystem. I decided that we need to repurpose our surplus and turn it into a food item that can be shelf stable and tasty and which we can give to all the sad and poor people (happy poor people need not apply). Now to identify the raw materials which we have in excess of need.

Last week, in the midst of my current stage of "not wanting to make dinner but still want to eat it," a stage which has lasted for many, many years, and sees no sign of slowing down, I ordered Chinese food. My usual order is simply an order of plain chicken wings. Ironically, it is brought to me by someone who uses a car. I think that's ironic because, you know, wings. Maybe it isn't. When it arrived, it came along with a host of packets of sauces, some Chinese noodles an fortune cookies. I'm just one guy who wanted some wings. Do they think I am sharing this with the entire block? And this isn't the only time. I am saddled with a large collection of Chinese noodles, fortune cookies, Chinese mustard, Duck Sauce, soy sauce and hot sauce. Now, sure, I could drive around and hand them out to individual sad people, but I think that it would work out better if I could create something and mass-distribute it.

So I encourage all my chef type peeps, grind down the noodles and/or cookies, mix them sauces, and come up with the food that will save the world.

The rules -- you may not add any other ingredients.

What can you come up with? Please let me know and then provide an address so I can send the many, many packets and collections of crunchy things and you can feed the world. Let them know it's Chinese New Year time.