Evening activity

 A quick summary of the afternoon and evening so that those of you hanging on my every move will be placated. I assume very few people really care about what I'm doing, but I write this stuff down so if someone says, "so, nu, what did you do when you were on vacation?" I can say "Learn to read, jerk." I won't, but I can.

I returned to the Ira place and realized it was so nice outside that I wanted to try the roof out in the sun. Glorious. I took many pictures and then came back downstairs. And decided that I wanted to go back to the roof and lie down in the sun. So I did. I didn't really nap much because it was already starting to get a bit breezy but I enjoyed the feeling of absolute relaxation -- no where to go, nothing to do. I like it. Eventually I came back down and sat on a chair and tried to doze there. I was equally unsuccessful, yet still very relaxed so I'm counting that as a win and you can't stop me.

Josie confabbed with her mom and we all decided that the best place to go to dinner was a dairy place right by the entrance to the beach (where I had walked earlier), so we waited until it was an appropriate time and worked our way down there. A lovely walk with a lovely young lady. She is my favorite Josie as far as I remember. If someone reminds me that I know a better Josie then that could change but I'm old, and remembering details like that smacks of effort so I'll pass. We went to Jony Forno. That's what it is called. They had personal pizzas (but no business pizzas...strange), pasta dishes and other things that combined tomato sauce, starch and cheese. I ordered rice balls with a cream sauce and we shared them. Yum. Then each of us ordered a margharita pizza -- mine with mushrooms and hers with kalamata olives (gross) and jalapeno peppers (ow). She got a seltzer and I got a diet Sprite and then a glass of Chenin Blanc. We both put red pepper flakes on our respective pizzas so if you had money on that, you win. We came, we saw, we ate. Along the way, we chatted about life and family and pizza. It was excceding pleasant, our waiter was nice, the ambience was great. I recommend the restaurant; it has a good beat and you can dance to it. The prices were reasonable as well.

For dessert, we went to Tony, an ice cream place. I shy away from desserts in Israel because of my nut allergies. Anything with chocolate probably has nuts and they aren't especially careful about cross contamination, so I eat double main courses and skip the sugar. But this time we spoke with the employees abouhey gave us an honest accounting of the flavors with nuts (the coffee ice cream had nuts...who knew? They did. Ha!). I opted for the Cream Caramel in a cone because I find alliteration delicious. There had been a freezer problem earlier so it played out almost like soft serve and tasted great. Josie got some fruity sherbert thing. I didn't approve but she was not intimidated. She had already ordered seltzer and kalamata olives so clearly she was going to get whatever she wanted, regardless of the gross factor.  Josie also struck a conversation with a new Olah who was working in the store (she is from Canada) so that was nice. We walked and ate and made it back to the apartment in record time (the fastest time the two of us returned after eating ice cream in the winter on a Sunday night).

Tomorrow, I may wade through the local shuk and see what else I don't need, then swing by the mall and have coffee at Aroma instead of Roladin, grade papers and then come back to go out to a meal with Brian! Jam packed, my days are.

Beach Bumming Bingo

 

Let's talk for a bit about McDonald's. I know it isn't "good" but a vast majority of metrics, but I also know I don't like the metric system so I shan't be slave to its judgmental whims. I totally get the predictability of comfort food. Order bland, get bland. Just like mom used to tell us not to eat. And kosher, by the way. A mall in Netanya and there I was eating a double McChicken sandwhich made of highly process near-chicken type food on a roll with lettuce and some sort of sauce. How can that be bad? Well, they find a way, but it was interesting at least. And at most.

I got the aforementioned double mcchicken sammich with fries and a side of onion rings. Shades of brown punctuated by a darker brown diet Coke. I felt so rustic. I ordered on a machine, was informed via machine that my food was ready and ate like a machine. Yes, I had to walk a half mile to find someplace to wash (a problem that didn't seem to plague the other religious people there, but I don't judge except when I do), but when I returned, my food was magically still boring. It was mostly tasteless, lukewarm and full of fat, just like me! I really did enjoy it because ot was like the forbidden fruit but without the concern that I was actually wasting calories on fruit.

I had to connect to a separate wifi network (the system repeatedly disconnected me with no explanation so that was annoying) but the idea that I was cruising the internet on a network called McDonalds made me happy. Eventually, I shall go off wifi and use my travel pass but math wise, I have to limit that to 3 24-hour periods so I will be careful to stay in airplane mode when I can.

I was on my way to leave the mall when I reallized that along with the entry level and the upstairs, there was also a downstairs! I had no idea. There was a store I had no interest in but also a full supermarket and a coffee place, a burger place, a pizza place and a falafel place. That's a lot of places all hiding from me. Amazing! I left as I had just super-sized my belly and needed to walk more than I needed to sit and eat more. I headed down Herzel and eventually, it turned into a pedestrian walkway (well, maybe it was a little nicer than pedestrian, but still, just medium) filled with stores selling stuff I didn't need. Refreshing! there was also a surplus of construction and destruction all around with the city being both torn down and built up simultaneously. Thanks Lior Suchard! There was a large square designed for pigeons and tourists and I found myself to be both. Next, the million stair staircase down to the beach. I walked down, still accoutered in my winter coat for a proper January day on the beach. From the water's edge, I watched a bunch of people surf as the sun started pounding down, making the day passable! The sun was out, but the soldiers didn't wait re: their guns. Those are out regardless of weather. It warmed up and the streams turned into puddles which turned into steam. The circle of life continues amidst cigarette butts. A brisk wind both on and off the water helped me rationalize my heavy coat but I still felt silly as I watched ten year olds run into the water wearing shorts. Things were relatively quiet as it is out of season so only the hardcore bugs tortured me.

Back up the staircase and the return walk. I stopped off at a store to buy a gift for Ira and his apartment. I, it is in the pantry off the laundry room. You're welcome. I strolled back, paying attention to everything and remembering nothing. It was very relaxing. Then I went up to the roof of the apartment building and sat iin the sun for a little while. Quite nice. Next up, the rest of the day.

Mall-ning edition

 Yes, I woke up at 4AM local time but I decided that I could force myself to sleep a little more so I bit the bullet and closed my eyes. It worked. I slept. Next thing I know, it is 7 in the morning and it is pouring outside. An auspicious beginning. I turned the dood on (you have to give the hot water some lead time, especially when there was a blown breaker over Shabbat, so you have to find your way into the hall, to the breaker box and reset the one labeled "Dood"). Then time to daven and review the world while it slept. That done, I took a shower and got myself all ready for a day's adventure. I reviewed the map, spoke monosyllabically to my niece who was hard at work, and girded myself for the walk.

And then I, on my own and without a net, headed to the mall. Crazy, I know. I made it here in record time. Well, any time would have been a personal record because I have never been here before, but let's celebrate victories and stop being so difficult, shall we? I walked in past the elderly gentleman who was the security guard. I had trouble removing my bag for his inspection and he seemed a bit impatient. But I figured it out eventually and gave him my bag and then I walked through the metal detector. It beeped but he gave me my bag and told me to move along. It sounded poetic in Hebrew. Directly by that entrance is a Roladin -- a coffe place with food but I wasn't interested in food. So I got on line and prepared myself to order in hebrew. When it was my turn, I confidently said "black coffee please" in perfectly accented English. I lost my nerve and interest. Either way, I paid my 10 shkalim and gave my name. I settled in at a table with a perfect view of the security guard and waited the minute it took for them to pour my drink. They never called my name. Instead they announced "black coffee" but in Hebrew. This is fine except, who knows if anyone else ordered black coffee! Isn't that the whole point of giving a name? Regardless I wandered up to the counter and confidently looked helpless. The woman releated "black coffee" in hebrew and looked at me. I took the coffee. If anyone else is waiting still for a cup, sorry bub.

It wasn't the biggest cup I have ever had, but it had the grounds still in it like a cup of turkish, just sans sweet so I enjoyed it while I graded papers. There is an amazing consistency here -- every single person who came into the mall set off the metal detector and the guard let every single person in. What an amazing country! I worked my way through the coffee and papers, savoring one and dreading the other, but by 10:25, I was finished with both. This gave me some time to reflect -- here I am actually on vacation. I was done with my work for the day. I have no futher plan other than to go out to dinner in a bunch of hours. I can wander through the mall and do nothing. I can sit and do nothing. I can even walk and do nothing. I choose to do none of the above and just do nothing. Glorious and freeing. The thing is, I'm in Israel doing nothing. Everywhere I look, Israel. It feels nice. It would feel nicer if the temp was a bit higher but when the sun comes out, it feels almost 60 degrees (that's 4 stone and a rock in metric, I think) and pleasant. So I'm just soaking in my aimlessness as a strange man in a strange land, but one in which I feel comfortable feeling out of place. It's nice. Hard to describe, but nice.

I wandered through the mall. Israeli malls have certain similarities with American malls. There is nothing I want to buy in either one. The music is insipid (though in more languages). I walked past the children's clothing stores and the jewelry kiosk. past the toys and the hair removal place (which is right next to the hair restoration place). I watched the small children with their parents, the elderly with their adult children and the middle aged people with both. I heard Hebrew and Russian and the occasionaly English (which was when I said things like "black coffee please"). I passed the food carts -- sure they have a candy cart. Sure, there is a fruitjuice cart. But there is also an open air "dried fruits, nuts and spices" guy and, of course, a "roasted potato bar with 6 ovens and a display of potatoes so you can choose whichever one you want to get cooked. Does YOUR mall have a roasted potato bar? I think not. Score one for Netanya. The thing is, though, the mall is not especially large. One can get through the drug store (think CVS) and the homewares stores in no time flat. I don't need too much time to see that there are no headbands or intimates that I desperately need and I already have a phone, thankyouverymuch. It doesn't take long to confirm that one is not in need of anything in particular.

I spotted the McDonald's which is my lunch target and found that there were a bunch of tables nearby, so I sat there and started typing. A few minutes later and the same family (current student, father was the one I sat next to on the flight) as they headed to visit a seminary for their daughter. We exchanged pleasantries which was unnecessary for I have need of those either, but pro forma and all that. I shall surf the internet on the wifi labeled "McDonalds" until I decide to order something and then I shall reassess my afternoon.

Strange Daze and Black knights.

 It is Saturday night and I'm ready to catch up so here we go:

Yes, there was maariv. A meager minyan was scraped together and I found this fascinating. usually these flights are over full of the religious sort but I guess that most people were concerned about landing 3 hours before Shabbos so the hardcore fanboys too the ealy AM flight so they could get home and watch other people shop and cook, Those of us with faith stayed in the US a little later and had to pull ourselves up by our relatively less frum bootstraps. Fortunately, it was a valid minyan. This was determined by the presence of two small boys running through and screaming while their father prayed and did nothing to discipline them.

Boarding began on time with an announcement that the elderly, people with disabilities and those with small children should board first. One thing it is important to note is that there are things that people flying to Israel don't care about. Tops on that list are such items as "waiting your turn" or "standing politely on a line waiting your turn." I, being a rule follower, allowed the rule of mass confusion to hold sway and I got on line also. What zone am I in? Your mother. That's what zone I'm in. Now take my boarding pass and move away. In Hebrew, that's like poetry. I figured I would ensure myself some overhead bin space by jumping the gun. I was partly right. The plane was mostly empty but miraculously, people not sitting in my row had already filled the bin dedicated for my seat. So I took someone else's spot. Tough nerts to them, I guess. The plane is a 787-9 Dreamliner and I was in 23H (an aisle seat, so I have freedom of egress and room to stretch one leg, but I get repeatedly smacked by anyone and anything walking by).

The preferred seat section does afford a little more leg room and a bit more reclining and it turned out that the seat next to me was empty so I had a bit more elbow room. Huzzah. There was a dog on board also but if he didn't complain about me, I figured I wouldn't complain about him. In the window seat in my row was the father of a current student. So we had an impromtu parent-teacher conference and I'm writing the whole trip off as a business expense. Winning! We taxied very slowly from the gate and did 30 minutes of extra waiting because there was a traffic jam ahead. Damn turnpike. Random thought? The Lior Suchard video needs to be changed. Maybe seeing once (twice) is amusing, but I have seen it too many times -- I'm starting to understand the Hebrew. Time to shake it up. 8:35 local time, we took off.

A lot of turbulence early on but after a bunch of minutes, that resolved. I put a blanket over my head and dozed. Truth is, maybe it was still turbulent after that, but I didn't notice. Dinner was served at about 10PM local (NJ) times. Rice with peas and carrots in it, plus 3 meatballs. Both parts of that word should be in quotes. Nuff said. I ate the chummus a bialy before I read the piece of paper that said that the bialy was real bread and not mezonos. So, um, oops. I skipped the mousse for fear of nuts. That made me sad. Then, blanket back on my head, extra pillow on my right and between the turbulence, the warm, full belly and the benadryl, I fell asleep. I'm sure I was smacked repeatedly by people passing but God is good and gave us the gift of antihistamines for just such an occasion. 

Fast forward to 4:30 AM (NJ time). Breakfast service. I was awoken by my internal clock which told me that something was happening and I was right. Something was happening. I let them serve me my food and then I got my tallis and tefillin and found a corner to daven in. There were certainly more than 10 men davening, but no one with anyone else so that was that. Maybe I missed the minyan they had anticipated at 3AM but if so, then so did everyone else. Back to the seat for breakfast. The tuna was the consistency of chopped liver, a definite "meh." The omelet was not the worst thing I have eaten. I enjoyed the water and a little bit of fruit and eschewed the bagel (once bitten, twice not). By the time I was cleaned up, brushed teeth etc, there was nary an hour left to the flight! I had watched nothing. I missed my chance for a cuppa but merrily we fly along. Life at 39,000 feet (or 2.2 mililiters) and -56 degrees fabrenginright was pleasant because at 587 mph (or $45 QVC) everything had best be pleasant. I was still tired (Benadryl hangover) but 5-6 hours of sleep is standard for me so I was ready for that feeling.

All that went through my groggy head was this line from the end of The Shawshank Redemption,

 "I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain"

OK, we're back to reality now.

A guy who finished davening walked around asking visibly less affiliated Jews if they wanted to put them on. He didn't ask me. I'm ok with that.

I'm 53 years old and I don't understand "duty free". Once I get on an airplane do I suddenly decide that I want to spend $295 on a watch, or buy 15 different types of perfume? Or maybe I want to buy a bottle of vodka for no less money than it would cost in any corner liquor store when I land? Am I sitting at 39 thousand feet realizing, "wow, I could really go for some face revitalizing serum? I hope there is a catalogue from which I can order it and use it tomorrow."

Deplaned relatively quickly and scooted into the terminal. On the way to somewhere I saw the biometric machines. There are no signs telling anyone "you have to stop here first no matter who you are" but I gave in to peer pressure and stopped there and had the machine give me a piece of blue paper. Note to self in the future -- do this. You need that blue paper.

I made it through passport control and various other obstacles and got my luggage (not quite the last, but late in the game). The airport was not really that busy so Jeff and I walked past the not-real cab drivers who wander through the arrival area whispering "ride? ride?". I can't call them gypsy cabs because I don't know where they are from. We were the only people in line so we got a real cab quickly and gave the gentleman the address. He made a little small talk (I only know short Hebrew words) but he negotiated the various traffic jams expertly (Israelis also don't hold from "lanes" when driving) and our ride was from 1:56 do about 2:50.He was expert in invasive driving. Not bad!

Arrival at 18 Harav Reines in Netanya. Pay the man, I do and then into the world's smallest elevator. Jeff and I went separately and my bag complained that I was squishing him. I should have put the elevator in the bag.

We played "meet the family" and I introduced myself to baby Tzofia. She cried, so I know she understood who I am.

I got a tour of the apratment, checked my email via wifi, and got ready for Shabbos. I slept in Josie's room and am appreciative of her largesse in giving it up.

I went to bed at around 11PM af ater a rollicking meal at which we watched a substantial amount of lightning far away -- the sky kept lighting up, but there was no sound. Weird. I had a clock in the room and a shabbos lamp. I fell asleep with the lamp still open which made the next part all the more confusing.

I woke up and I heard cars and voices. OK, that happens. I wake often and life goes on. I looked at the clock, nothing there. I wasn't exactly sure where I was but recalled that it was dark. Too dark. I founbd my watch and tried to see the time. I couldn't because, you know, dark. So I made my way back downstairs, only almost falling once. I fell because it was also dark in the hallway. Now I knew something was wrong.

Into the living/dining room. Still dark and all the appliances, usually so forthcoming with the time, were dark as well. I figured that I had somehow triggered a fuse and broken Israel. So I laid myself down on the couch and looked outside. The sky still flashed and it was still dark outside. Eventually, my eyes adjusted enough for me to guess that it was 5AM Israel time.

At 5:30 I heard baby Choo-Chi (yes, that's what they call her) crying. Then, she stopped. A little while later, her father trudged downstairs to make her a bottle of something. We exchanged 5:45 AM pleasantries (with such witticisms as "what time is it" and "the power's out.") He went back up and I stayed on the couch, watching the darkness and an occasionaly UFO (struth).

I couldn't fall asleep but then at 6:30 went back upstairs. Then the rain came. That helped me sleep until 9:30 ish when I went back downstairs. I was pouring and the thunder and lightning continued (throughout the day - no walks were taken). The powere had come back on and we discussed the halachic implications of the outage (which, it seemed, was specific to this apartment and not a neighborhood problem).

Lunch was et, toys were thrown, stories interrupted and multiple naps taken. All by me. Shabbos ended at 5:40-something and many people went many ways.

I have made some tentative plans for my week -- tomorrow, I will try to find somewhere to drink coffee and grade papers. Then dinner with Josie. Tuesday is dinner with Andi, then she will escort me part of the way back to Jerusalem where I will stay with Nomi and David.

At least that's the plan. Stay tuned.

Meet the Newark, Same as the Old Ark

 As per my earlier post, I needed to deal with a mass of neuroses in a relatively short time so I doubled up and didn't sleep in order to maximize my crazy time. I started pacing at about 6AM after not sleeping. I also had both coffee and tea. On the plus side, both were delicious. On the downside, I may never sleep again. You do what you can I guess.

We left the house at 4PM which scratched my crazy just right. 3:30 would have been even scratchier but I have to learn to take a deep breath and be reasonable. Old dog, meet new trick. At the airport by 4:35 for an 8PM flight. That works. Then we start waiting on lines. The first thing (and if you didn't know this, you wouldn't go there) was the pre-check in security line. The nice El Al people ask questions about where you are from, where you are goping and if you packed your own bag. I answered honestly and I got waved through because my profile is just plain smashing!

Then we check in. New thing -- they were weighing ALL carry on bags and enforcing a limit of 8 Kg (which is about 1 and a half pounds I think). In my carry on, I had a game, a picture, a belt, my tallis and tefillin and not much else. That was over by 2 Kg (18 pounds). The woman offered to check in my carry on or I would have to move things. I moved the game and the picture, shmooshing (technical jargon, I know) them into my luggage and hoping they don't get destroyed. That lowered my weight to 8.6 Kg (4 stone and a rock) but she let that go. My tallis and tefillin won't fit in my personal bag so what was my choice? It is tough to be a Jew.

Then we go to the security line at which we doff our shoes and coats and empty our pockets. Some things go in bins, some don't but whatever you do, you are doing it wrong. So I did it wrong, got corrected, scanned, patted down, x-rayed and spoken down to. It was fun. Then I moved my stuff off to the side so I could get dressed and move things to the proper pockets. Gate B62, here I come. I settled in and noticed that my carry on bag is breaking. This might be its last hurrah which is sad because the built in table is incredibly useful. They are making an announcement about the limitation on overhead space and, again, asking if anyone wants to check bags in. I'm sticking to my guns on this. I wonder if there will be a maariv in the terminal.

More updates as events unfold.

Surprise Jitters

 A lot can happen in 24 hours. Like an entire day's worth of stuff can happen and often does.

This week we begin mid-year vacation, when the entire of Bergen County decides to get out of Subaru and head to sunnier climes. I eschew that for very important reasons -- I'm frugal-cheap and I prefer this place when everyone else leaves. The last thing I want is to travel somewhere and be surrounded by the same people I'm surrounded by when I don't go anywhere. But then, with Talia visiting the holy land, I started getting the jones, that Israel-itch. Talia had mentioned a flight credit with United...El Al was hawking a sale and we have points and a voucher, and I had no plans other than "go to Dunkin and, at some point, slog through 150 papers."

So a few mouse clicks later I was looking at flights. I didn't want a trip that was too short. To spend any money/points and have to come back a few days after arrival made no sense. The United flights would still cost $500 out of pocket beyond the voucher and the El Al flights, if they even had seats, might get me in to TLV too close to shabbos. But we powered through. Dammit, if I'm going to be spontaneous then I have to plan for every eventuality.

We decided that it made more sense to leave the United voucher for Talia to use to travel somewhere, and I would use points. This meant I couldn't use the extra $188 voucher I had, but that's OK, because the flight would be all paid for anyway. So I used the Chase app and, after checking with big brother to make sure that his apartment would be available (it sort of is, though initially, I'll get the sofa while all the other house guests sleep in beds...this is OK because sofa, so good), I purchased tickets. I went to choose seats. I found one available on the way back and NO seats available on the way there. Weird I thought, they sold me a ticket but have no seats. So I called Chase and asked "what the hey?"

In short, they had no answer until they found that there were seats, but they cost $100 extra. If you have read through my earlier trips then you know that I swore to myself that on all future trips, I would spend the extra money to get the slightly bigger seats. So this was a fine alternative as I wanted to do this anyway. And (get this) to do so, I had to buy through the El Al website -- Chase couldn't sell the better seats. I HAD to use the El Al site which meant that I could use my voucher! So I bought the slightly bigger seats using the voucher and ended up spending 10 dollars out of pocket for the entire round-trip ticket. Not bad, considering that I also got better seats.

Now, of course, I have to cram 6 months of worrying and planning into 24 hours so I'm pretty much freaking out. More updates as my blood pressure allows.

Prayer

 

I was watching a student who is, unfortunately, currently saying kaddish. He was there, in davening, and he said kaddish with a reverence and a fervor which was admirable. But when he wasn't saying it, he was also wandering around and schmoozing. So I admire his dedication, but only when he is dedicated.

I have seen a similar issue with other students. They seem as into their prayers as one should be, swaying and rocking, standing and sitting and poring over the text. But then, during the in-betweens, laughing with their friends, talking and acting like there is nothing else to do.

The problem, I figure, is that we teach students from a young age that prayer is a chance to talk to God. This isn't inherently wrong, but it is woefully incomplete. Students take from it a reasonable lesson -- when I pray, I am talking. When I am not praying, there is nothing going on. But that's wrong.

Prayer is, at the least, a conversation, and a conversation requires listening, and active listening at that. It requires paying attention and, if one believes that there is a force listening to the prayer, being able to accept that that other participant also has something to say and it takes even more attention to understand the return message. And no, no one said that this was easy but it is an important context.

And when we pray in a minyan, a collective quorum, we also have to listen when others speak. The prayer leader who speaks on our behalf - if we don't pay attention when he is speaking for us, then how can we feel included? And when the person next to us is spending more time in his personal petition, if we are not trained to help him by staying respectful and quiet, then how can we expect that anyone will do the same for us?

I have, over the years, tried to create all sorts of metaphors to help students understand the place of prayer in their lives so that their behavior befits the moment. They wouldn't show up late to a movie, or talk straight through the film, would they? They wouldn't walk out of a professional sports event with 2 minutes left, would they? Or worse, they wouldn't walk out of a game they are playing in, or even take off the uniform with time left on the clock. They wouldn't make noise during the SATs or a math test, and in a tech-high school setting, no student can make math optional just because it doesn't seem relevant to him. The same is true of prayer in a religious school. Would a student make his case to the judge and then pull out a soda, or chat with a friend while the judge weighs what was just said? Or would he sit on the edge of his seat, silently waiting for the right moment to continue to petition?

But all these allegories never seem to convince students and I think that is because the baseline understanding is "I'm in it when I'm in it but when I'm done, I'm done." The fact is, if we are people of belief, then we need to buy into the entire of the event and see our selves as part of a whole. A group petitioning a king speaks as individuals, members respectfully let others speak as individuals, and all listen when the leader of the group speaks. And then all listen quietly for the thin, still voice, recognizing the presence of the divine speaking answers directly to our hearts. If we make noise, we miss all of that and we might as well not be doing anything.

Conversation. Dialogue. Discourse. These are not solitary activities even when others are being quiet. Speaking is balanced by listening. Wishing to be paid attention to requires that we pay attention in return. Prayer is the action which seems self-centered but is actually the most selfless activity in which we engage because it demands that we put ourselves aside even when we can't (in a traditional sense) hear anyone else speaking.