The Adventures of Mika

I didn't take the job. I couldn't. I couldn't quit Ulpan halfway through. I hope I made the right decision, but how will I know? They may be hiring in the time that I finish, and they might not be. I had to listen to my heart, and I don't care how hippie that sounds. It's true. At least if I end up a bum on the street, I'll be a bum who follows through on her commitments and who knows Hebrew.

Well,
the time has come,
to say Goodbye,
to telemarketing....

Sad, but true. My project ended Thursday, put on hold until the leaders decide whether to continue, since we were just in the pilot period until now. I had an interview this morning, that I had set up earlier in the week since I hated telemarketing anyways. Good planning, huh? It was with an international currency trading business. They offered me the job before the interview was even over! Craziness. It pays well and it would be good career-wise, but I would have to quit Ulpan and it would be a totally American experience, just located in Israel. So then this afternoon, I got confirmation that I am being considered for an editing position for the international news service (they translate articles from Hebrew and Arabic to English, so they need English-speaking editors). My roommate and another girl I know work translate for them, so I probably have a pretty good chance. That would be an evening job that I could do at home, so I could continue Ulpan an live a more "Israeli" life. Of course, it's not exactly something that would be impressive to Business schools in a few years, though.

WHAT SHOULD I DO???????????????????????????

p.s. I saw the Haredi (othodox) Humpty-Dumpty the other day. He was shaped like an egg - short and roundest in the middle, with his pants under his elbows. It was classic.

p.p.s. I did my good deed for the week yesterday, when I lent my cell phone to this random Haredi man on the bus. He just leaned across the aisle and asked if he could use my phone. I let him, thinking it would just be a quick call. But he had this whoooole conversation, and ended right before he got off the bus. But whatever, he was nice about it so it's fine. Funny, though.

p.p.p.s. Back to me - what should I dooooooooooooo?????

So last night around 7 or 7:30, I set out on a little stroll with my roommate and her boyfriend, thinking to have a little walk before finding some little hummus place or something to eat. Well, we forgot that we are living in Jerusalem, The Holy City. Shabbat doesn't end until there are 3 stars in the sky - and since it is summer, the sun doesn't set until like 9. We walked for hours, all over the whole city, until finally we had to stop and buy some burekas to keep us going until we found something. Finally we saw that the best baguette shop in Jerusalem (there aren't many, but still) had opened, and I swear it was one of the best meals of my life. I can't tell you if the baguette was that great, or if I was just so famished I would have loved anything. But we finally were fed. At around 9:30 or 10.

My new South African friend from Ulpan came to meet us, so we ended up sitting in some coffee shop, which was quite nice. There were about 144438358 people out and about, I guess in part because of Shavuot and all the good Jews who had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, as they are supposed to. It kind of took me by surprise, though, since I tend to assume that Saturday night here is like Sunday night everywhere else, since there is work and whatnot the next day, but I guess not. Sometimes Western logic just doesn't fit in to this little part of the Middle East. (understatement, anyone? anyone else catch the -ahem- subtleness and underlying message of that one? just checking).

I've been pretty busy lately, going to Ulpan, the gym, and hating my job. Anyone want to hire me? anyone??

Anyhow. Things have been going fine. I got called "Upstairs" (to the 5th floor, where management is) the other day at work, where they picked my brain for a bit on how the project is going. I tried to hint that they need me up there, but they laughed. I think they thought I was joking. Not the reaction I was looking for.

Thursday was the start of Shavu'ot, a holiday that encompasses a lot of things, including the day that the Torah was handed down from Mount Sinai. It is also connected to the start of the harvest, and it is celebrated with eating just milk and other dairy, bread, and other grains. Although it's not one of the more famous Jewish holidays, it is one of the three holidays when it is customary for Jews to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

The weather is hot but not humid, which makes it all right. At work, though, they keep the air conditioner on superultramegacold, I guess so people don't fall asleep over the night shifts, but I hate it. oh well. We don't even know how long I'll be there, do we? And if I become a supervisor, well then maybe I can do something about the temperature situation. Haha ya right, but it's a nice thought.

I don't think I mentioned the other week, when there was a security threat to downtown Jerusalem. I was on the bus on my way to work, and my roommate called and was like, Are you at home? I told her no, and she was just like, Ok good, there's a security thing downtown and I don't think it would be very pleasant to be down there this afternoon. Apparently there were swarms of police and soldiers and whatnot. And then sometime last week, there was some kind of demonstration by one of the religious groups, and one of the main streets in the center of the city (the one I live right off of) was closed off. Again, there were all kinds of security peoples hanging out. It was kind of crazy. I have no idea what they were demonstrating about, so maybe they didn't do such a good job, huh? fun times.

today's breakfast:
soft-boiled egg
salad
mint tea, made with fresh mint leaves picked from my plant outside my window.

... well I had some Belgian waffles today, in a hole in a wall on a little alley in Jerusalem. And they were AMAZING...

I went to the shuk with one of my roommates and the girl who used to live in my room today, which is always a good time. We went later in the afternoon, when all the vendors were just trying to get rid of all their stuff, so that was fun. Our last stop was this little shop, and as I was paying, this youngish American guy comes in, asks for the price on something, and then starts asking (loudly, and in English) why it is so expensive. I wanted to smack him, and I really hoped no one realized that I was American, too. Without thinking I turned to my roommate and spoke to her in Hebrew. She burst out laughing as we left, and gave me a hard time the whole way home about how vee're not Amereecans anymore, iz zis eet? Well, until we realized that walking home with 12,000 pounds of groceries in 1,000 degree heat majorly sucks. We had to stop and take a rest on the way home (it's about a 7 minute walk from our house to the shuk, usually). My arms were shaking by the time we arrived. I think my roommate could feed all of Ireland with the number of potatoes she bought.

Today was Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day), a celebration of the outcome of the 6-day war in 1967, when Jerusalem was made whole again under Israeli occupation of the formerly-Palestinian half of the city. There was a parade and everything, I think. I don't know, I didn't see it. It was kind of funny (in an awkward, uncomfortable way) when my teacher at Ulpan was explaining the holiday, since more than half of the class are Arab students. So obviously they wouldn't think that Jewish occupation of Palestinian parts of the city is something to celebrate. It was all I could do not to start laughing when I could read on my teacher's face that she realized what she was saying.... better to laugh than to cry, right? oh the joys of living in the most complicated city in the world..........

My life is officially insane. I get up at 7:20 am for Ulpan at 8, go until 12 when I leave early to go to the gym, catch the bus just after 2 to get to work by 3, work until 11, and then catch the bus home and think about doing Ulpan homework before going to bed around 12 or 1. Are we all following? This is the girl who used to go to bed no later than 9 or 10 at the absolute latest.

And that's right, I (finally) joined a gym! and they have spin classes! I think I'll only be able to go to the spinning on Fri, but still. It's more than before!

The job is all right. It is cool because it's a totally new project, but we have switched to outbound calling, which totally sucks. Note to all: be nice to every telemarketer who ever calls you ever again, because I promise they want to bother you about as much as you want to be bothered. So I can't decide if I hate it or not. I'm starting to put the wheels in motion to become a supervisor asap, so we'll see where that gets me. My supervisor said today that he doesn't want to be on the project, so I told him I would do it. Really. And he thinks I do a good job on the phones, so he said he's got my back. Wooooooo....

I lent my assistance to advocating change in the occupied West Bank today, by going with a bunch of other Israelis and internationals to a Palestinain farming community there (right next to a settlement) and hanging out where settlers and soldiers could see the international supporters. I would guess that there were about 50 people there in all who had come to show support.

It was my first time knowingly being in the West Bank. Apparently there are a number of neighborhoods that are on the other side of the Green Line, but I'm not sure that it counts, because it is still part of the city of Jerusalem and I didn't know that I had crossed The line.
The problem for Palestinian agricultural communities is that nearby settlers use aggression and other methods to prevent the Palestinian farmers from accessing their fields. They might set up barracades, or throw rocks, etc. When there are no outsiders there, the unfortunate truth is that the soldiers inevitably don't do anything about it. But when there are Israelis and/or people from the international community physically present, often the settlers don't even come out to the fields to try and stop anything. They just call the army, but the soldiers usually don't do anything either way, just watch. So the simple act of just being a non-Palestinian in the fields, allows the Palestinian community to access the crops to do the necessary work. Plus, it shows the settlers and the army that there are people who care about Palestinian rights, which is important - they can't just do whatever they want to these people.

All of this makes it sound much more exciting than it was, truthfully. We arrived in the town, and I think every child came out to greet us, as well as a majority of the men and some women. We walked to the fields and up to the border between the fields and the settlement. The soldiers came, but they just stood there and watched as we helped the Palestinians clear some of the rocks from the soil. The truth is that it was largely a symbollic action, showing solidarity for the Palestinian cause. My roommate and I found ourselves the center of attention of most of the young boys and men (I was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, not provocative at all, I swear), more interested in staring at the foreign girls than in moving rocks. What can you do. Maybe they were wondering why the hell we were throwing rocks around the fields.

Eventually we all came back to the edge of the fields by the town, where we ate and sat around for a bit. I found myself the center of a spectacle again when I tried to talk to some of the young boys about their English lessons. Eventually they moved on to the Italian girls, and then to the Israeli guy who knew how to juggle. Apparently another group from our original 50 had encountered settlers who threw rocks, but for us it was more a day of showing quiet support. Plus I think the children will be talking about it for months, haha. I felt that for me, it was/is important to walk the talk; to take some sort of action in support of the views I have. I didn't cause trouble or interfere in anyone's life or safety. I just lent my Israeli identity to a symbollic show of support for Palestinian farming lands. And it was a small act, but maybe (hopefully) it is part of a bigger movement, planting the seeds for acceptance of Palestinian rights.

I started working yesterday, finally! I had a day of training last week, but the project kicked off at the beginning of this week. I'm doing market research and sales for an international communications company who has a major call center here in Jerusalem. I work from 3-11 pm (eek!), which is especially rough when you consider that I have Ulpan in the mornings from 8-12:30. But I am psyched to be having an income, and we will see what opportunities arise from the experience.

The building is located in this industrial area on the outskirts of the city, and I get to ride through a bunch of religious neighborhoods on the bus ride there. There's a gym there, which is awesome. And the people seem nice, which is important. I work in this huge area divided up into cubicles, where all different kinds of projects are going on at the same time, which makes it interesting. Almost everyone who works there is an immigrant.

We received - 0 - calls yesterday. I sure hope it picks up a little.

In other news, I have emerged victorious in my battle against the national health insurance beauracracy. And no, I am not being dramatic, it really has been a battle. I have been to the offices about 7 times, usually with little or no information, sometimes with the wrong information. Today I went down there, bothered people until I talked to the proper ones who could help me, and I (think) I should have coverage in 72 hours! That's what the woman told me. I'm not holding my breath, but I really think this is it. If it isn't, I might explode. And then because I won't have insurance, it will be a big drain on the beauracracy and it will serve them right!

I wanted this online journal thing to be a record of my adventures, and also a way to keep everyone I know (and maybe people I don't know) updated on the latest and greatest of what I'm doing. It is also a great opportunity to humanize Israel and the ongoing conflicts and issues plaguing the Middle East. This is also my story about moving across the world to a country that operates mainly in a language I'm not fluent in, where I have no social or career structures, and a support system of family and people who know and love my mother, but who I've not been especially close with over the years.

So I guess all of that is a long way of saying, I'm a little homesick right now. I missed my brother's 17th birthday last week. I want to hug my mom. I want to go out in SF with my friends. I miss my friends from college. I want to be able to read the headlines on the local newspaper, make small talk with the cashier in the store, and understand what the beaurecrat (sp?) at the health insurance office is telling me.

I can't imagine coming home yet, but with all the wonderful and exciting parts of this move, it is also the most difficult process I have ever been through.

That's all.

Since I haven't started working yet (I am getting trained today and start for real on Mon), I decided yesterday to hang out with a cousin in Tel Aviv. I took the bus over there after ulpan, and we had a lovely afternoon.

I know I called Tel Aviv dirty, smelly, polluted and all-around terrible, but I'm not sure I still feel that way. Every time I go there, it seems less awful. Yesterday was amazingly beautiful weather, to start: sunny, warm, and not humid at all. My cousin just moved there, so we explored some neighborhoods near her that were wonderful. Good shopping, good people-watching, close to the beach, etc. A few of the main streets have these avenues running through the middle, with grass and trees and bike as well as pedestrian paths, and sprinkled with coffee and juice shacks. Plus it was fun just to hang out with fam, and to get out of Jerusalem - it felt like a mini-vacation, hah.

The bus ride back, however, was somewhat less than pleasant. I swear the bus was not crowded at all, and yet of all the places to sit, this man chose to sit next to me. He was weird about it, kind of just standing in the aisle looking around, then staring at me for a bit, before asking if he could sit there. Eventually he fell asleep, and kept "falling" my direction. Ew, pervy. I accidentally albowed him at one point because it was getting rediculous. That worked.

On another note, I just wanted to say that in the previous post (about the racism/discrimination issue), I wasn't trying to simplify anything. My whole point was that it is supercomplicated, and I don't know if there is anyone who can fully understand it. As with everything out here in Israel, there are layers and layers of truths and history and every shade of gray imaginable - and as someone new to the day-to-day life here, I have noticed just that it exists. I also appreciate that as a "white girl," I probably am not exposed to/don't recognize how deeply these attitudes run. So I apologize if I offended anyone or oversimplified; that wasn't my intention at all. But I'm glad that people are reading and thinking about and responding to these things!

Everyone knows that the Israelis and the Arabs have a longstanding hate-hate relationship. And so it isn't surprising (it's sad and unfortunate, but not surprising) that there is rampant racism by the Israelis against the Arabs. What may be a lesser-known phenomenon, is the racism within the Israeli/Jewish population. It started with the division of the Jews into 2 main groups as a result from the diaspora, all so many many years ago. There were the Ashkenazim, who settled in northern and eastern Europe, and the Sephardim, who settled in southern Europe, the Middle East, and north Africa. Two different kinds of Judaism emerged, influenced by the dominant cultures in those regions. Different languages, clothes, customs, etc. When the state of Israel was being built and these communities came together, it turned out that the Jews weren't one big happy family. The Ashkenazim (lighter-featured, generally better educated, and wealthier) became the "ruling class," looking down on the Sephardim. While there isn't (always) blatant racism between these groups today, it is still a very real part of daily life here. And in addition, there are the Ethiopian Jews who came as refugees, who are often considered the most-discriminated against group of Jews. There are even more groups, I think, I just don't understand the details very well yet.

The thing is, I don't understand how Israelis know who to discriminate against, because in some of the groups, you can't tell just by how people look. Many Sephardim, to me, look the same (if not darker) as many Arabs. And then there are the Sephardim and even Arabs who look as white as me or any other northern European. And contrary to their best efforts, there has been some interbreeding between the various groups. So how do you know if the person walking towards you is an Arab, a Sephardi, an Ashkenazi, a mix of the above, or something altogether different? And why is it important? Ok I understand that it is naieve to think that all Israelis can be friends with all the Arabs, or that either group even wants that. So maybe it would be good to know how to tell the difference between a Jew with dark coloring and an Arab. But the bigger truth is that I wouldn't want to run into either in an alley at night, but I wouldn't want to see an Ashkenazi either. Maybe I should just stay away from dark alleys at night. But my point is, it is all quite complicated. It is the Middle East, after all...

I spent the weekend on the kibbutz, my first visit back since moving to Jerusalem. It was wonderful. I realized that I never really talked about it before, so I thought I would describe it a bit more...

Well I'll actually start with the bus ride there. I was sitting next to this woman who is from New York, enlisted in the (US) army when she was 17, and is now coming back to her Judaism (at age 31) and going to seminary. So she was pretty hardcore. Just before she got off, we got onto the Israeli-Palestinian issue, and it was not good. She has "no sympathy" for the Palestinians because of the terrorist activities that some of them have been involved in, and thinks that they "deserve whatever they get." When I pointed out that not all of them are like that she wouldn't hear it. And maybe she had never heard of Gandhi or the idea of nonviolent methods of creating change. But let's just say I was glad she was getting off the bus. I might have had to get seriously hippie on her ass.

Anyhow, back to the kibbutz. I don't know if I have explained, but the kibbutz is a uniquely Israeli phenomenon, originally socialist/semi-communist communities established all over Israel (Palestine) as self-sufficient, agricultual and etc. communities based on the idea of collective living. There was no money, no personal property; members got what they needed, ate at the dining hall, worked for the community, the kids lived at the childrens' houses where they also went to school, etc. Today, there is a privatisation process that I think is sad, because it means that there aren't real kibbutzim anymore. People own their homes, they buy their food at the local store, and they may or may not work within the community. It is still a special place though. While many families have cars, most of the roads within the kibbutz are too narrow to drive on - when the kibbutzim were built, hardly anyone had cars so there was no need for space to accomodate them. The kibbutzim are still surrounded by fields and orchards that they maintain, although many also have factories of some kind. They are generally quiet, idyllic places, universally recognized as special. Even the people: although kibbutzniks (people from kibbutzim) make up something like 4% of the Israeli population, they rise to the top army ranks in a much larger proportion.

My visit was really great. I got to sit around and enjoy the quiet, the freedom (kibbutzim tend to be almost secular - as opposed to the oppressive religiousness of Jerusalem, I was in heaven, hah), and the family. I ate tons of home-cooking, visited with aunts and uncles and cousins, and that's about it. On Friday there was a special dinner, but not religious. More about family and togetherness, all the kids and grandkids and etc. That is Shabbat, kibbutz-style. On Sat, one cousin took me to the nearest town where I had Jachnoon, a Yemen food that was really yummy. It's almost like a bubble, being on the kibbutz - there's no pressure, no worries, no rushing anywhere. Of course that's part of why I was afraid I would get lulled to stay there, but it is also nourishing to visit an environment like that.

the kibbutz

the dining hall

Oh and I got a bike! It is yellow and kind of beat-up looking, but it is obvious that someone loved it. It has custom handlebars, shocks, and pedal-thingies. AND, I bargained the price down 125 shekels (about $25 or $30)!

Today was the Israeli version of the 4th of July, complete with festivals, barbeques, and people all over the place. It was really fun, especially since I got to hang out with a family friend, a man who is part of the Bay Area Israeli community that helped raise me. We walked around, ate felafel, and just visited. It was such a relief to just be with a familiar face, and cool because it was in a new setting. It helped me realize that I am really doing this - really making a life for myself here in Jerusalem. I'm on top of the world! haha just kidding, sort of.

What was interesting was to realize that although today is this day of great celebration, the Arabs have another name for it - the day of disaster. Which is kind of sobering. Although it makes sense, considering they never wanted there to be a state of Israel, and then when they declared war on the first Israeli Independence Day (as soon as Israel was declared a nation), they were totally humiliated by defeat. There was definitely security and police every 2.5 feet, and even on top of buildings as lookouts. Just another part of celebrating anything here in Israel.

Today, May 2, is Yom HaZikaron in Israel, a day to remember all the fallen soldiers and civilians killed in all the wars in Israeli history, as well as those killed in terrorist attacks. The day is actually counted on the Jewish calendar, so it's not really on May 2; it's on the 4th day of Iyyar. It's kind of like Memorial Day in the US, except that it's a really really big deal and serious and sad here. The flags fly at half-mast, and there are sirens where the whole country stops to remember the fallen. The thing is, there has been a war in Israel for every decade of the country's existence. 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, 1982, and 1991. Every single Israeli has some personal connection to someone who died in a war, terrorist attack, or regular army service. So this day is really a day of respect, reflection, and grieving.

The next day, the 5th day of Iyyar, is Israeli Independence Day. This is the day that David Ben Gurion, the first Prime Minister of Israel, declared Israel to be a state (May 14, 1948). This, of course, is a day of huge celebrations (there are fireworks going right now), barbeques, etc. You know, 4th of July, Israeli-style. Instead of burgers there are kebabs, the flag is different, and it is tempered by extra security in all the public places - but otherwise, the same. I'll probably write about that tomorrow, since that is when I will experience it first-hand.

It's an interesting contrast to have these 2 days back to back. There is a lot of discussion about why, and whether it should continue, but for now this is the way it is. In a way I really appreciate it, because for all the bitterness, there is always the hope of the future, and at least Israel has her independence.

Anyhow today, I went with one of my roommates and some friends for a "ti'ul" (literally "trip," but it was a hike) in a nature area near here. It was really nice - we hiked to this natural spring that has these caves where the water turns into these pools. My roommate and I went down to explore, and there were these 3 Russian guys cavorting in one of them, making very strange noises (like wild animals, and then laughing and splashing... odd). We went the other way. We all ate about 1,000 million pitot (plural of pita), 500 million gallons of hummus, and then made Turkish coffee and roasted semi-gross foreign marshmallows (not nice and white and fluffy like the American ones) on a little gas burner. It was really fun, even if these people have never heard of s'mores.

some of the pretty sights out there

When we got back to the car, the package of marshmallows that we had left there was thuroughly baked. One member of the ti'ul, who shall remain unnamed, squished them together, opened the package, and it was the most disgusting goo I have ever had the experience of eating. Because these weren't any old marshmallows, they were pink and green and yellow, and flavored accordingly.

can't recognize what this is? it's baked, mushed mallows, of course! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww