The Adventures of Mika

Besides the room (now furnished, thankyouverymuch) and the job (finally!!!) and Ulpan (learning Hebrew), there are other changes that are happening in my world. I go to bed later, I eat my meals later, I actually sleep in on days when I don't have to get up. I read newspapers online from 3 different countries. I have discussions with my roommates and others about political, social, economic, humanitarian, and historical issues. I learn something new every day about how the world works, or why it works the way it does. When I need something, I have to figure it out in a nonnative language, and then deal with Israeli beauracracy in order to get it. I have been mistaken for an Israeli. I know not to wear a long sleeved shirt with a long skirt, or else get mistaken as religious (and therefore get treated differently). I'm used to sitting next to a soldier on the bus, and I can easily ignore the stares and yells from the shopkeepers in the shuk. usually.

Of course, the guns still kind of freak me out. And I always smile, and say please and thank you. The guy at the bicycle shop asked me if they're all like me where I come from, haha. I think it was a compliment, but I'm still not sure....

Yesterday my roommate didn't emerge from her room until after 5 pm. um. We had breakfast at 6 or 6:30 - but it was dinner for me. Of course, it's not like there's anything else to do in this city on shabbat. but still.... So we (my roommate, her boyfriend, and myself) had a nice, leisurely meal, during which we debated the pros and cons of legalizing prostitution. Which kind of led to a little bit of talk on legalizing drugs, but not as much as we talked about the prositiution issue. I mean, why not, it's the perfect topic to go with french toast and salad, right?

wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

AND the sun is shining today

can you see my smile? it's as big as the planet!

White
Ashkenazi
Sabra, with
Protexia

For those of you who need a little help with the terms:
ashkenazi refers to jews from Northern, Central, and Eastern Europe.
a sabra is a jew born in Israel (after the prickly pear cactus, which is said to be prickly on the outside and sweet on the inside).
protexia is kind of a way of getting things by knowing "people."

For those of you who need a little more help:
this is hilarious.

This morning I found an advertisement for a nonprofit job that looked quite interesting. So I called the number and spoke to a man who asked me to look at the website and then call back in a bit. While looking at the website, I notice that the office is located quite close to Mea Sharim, the most religious neighborhood in Jerusalem, maybe in the whole world. So when I call back, I asked if it was okay that I am not really very religious. He said as long as I dress "appropriately" at work, it doesn't matter. So ok, fine. He also tells me that they're having a fundraiser/telethon tonight, do I want to stop by and that would be a good place to meet and see if I would fit in with them.

I decide to walk to the interview after talking it over with my roommate, who said it was supereasy and would only take like 20 min. First I got dressed, again feeling like I was getting into a costume - long skirt, sweater, scarf, shoes - so as not to offend anyone, and to avoid getting harassed. They do that in these neighborhoods, if you don't look right.

I then proceeded to find my way to the religious area, and promptly got lost. So there I am, wandering past all these signs that border Mea Sharim that say, "Please respect our community, large tour groups don't visit, if you are going to enter make sure women are wearing long skirts and shirts past the elbows, no tight-fitting clothing, married women with their hair covered..." etc. This neighborhood, by the way is superhardcore. Like they don't even speak Hebrew, because they believe that it is a holy language that should only be used in prayer. And they don't believe in the state of Israel, because it will only be created when the Messiah comes. And women have had stones thrown at them and been harrassed in other ways for not being dressed appropriately.

So I was a little uncomfortable. I mean, I was in costume so I was all right, but I didn't know if my scarf was too colorful or something, or if the fact that my hair was down would be a bad thing. And I had no idea where the street I was looking for was, since a lot of the street signs have graffitti on them to prevent wanderers, I think. By the way, I was really surprised how dirty everything was in the religious areas. You often hear that Cleanliness is Next to Godliness, but apparently the superJews in this area haven't jumped onto that bandwagon, because there was tons of trash in the street, and litter everywhere.

I was going to just leave and go home without making it to the interview because I was so frustrated and uncomfortable (I didn't even know if I would have been allowed to stop and ask a man for directions, and in what language? They might not know English, and hit me for using Hebrew, and I seriously doubt they know Spanish, which is the only other language I might be able to communicate in). But I called the guy, because I wasn't going to leave him hanging. He managed to talk me into finding it, and I only got lost once (ok, twice) after he gave me more explicit instructions and consulting my map.

When I got there, he was about to go out somewhere, so he sits me in this room in the back of the upstairs of this old house with 4 volunteers for the telethon. Um. So I sit there and chat with the other women, until this woman comes in and looks at me and is like, What is she doing? They explain that the guy put me there to answer phones until he got back. But the phones aren't ringing, so the woman wants to take me to go do some other work. And I was like, Wait a minute, I'm here for an interview, no one really asked me to volunteer for anything. Finally the guy comes back, and it was kind of awkward because he just sits down and wants to hear about me. I had sent him my cv (resume), but he hadn't checked his email. So I had no idea where to begin, because he had nothing to go on. It was so strange. I did the best I could, but the other volunteers were there, which also made it odd.

I don't know about working in such an oppressively religious environment, though. I totally respect people who have whatever belief system they chose, but I don't agree when it is forced upon other people, or when people who don't share those beliefs are made to feel uncomfortable for not adhering to the same rules. It's amazing, the religious presence in this city - I've never experienced anything like it. It is a major part of the difficulty in living here. But it is also part of what makes it so unique. That doesn't mean I'm going to become a dati (religious girl) though. hah can you imagine? me either. But it's funny because people are judged by the clothes they wear - before, I wouldn't think twice about wearing a long sleeved shirt with a skirt. But now, people will think I'm religious. And skirts above the knee or shorts are extremely rare in this city, worn mostly by tourists who don't know better. Not that I really care about rules or whatever, but it's strange to think that people will come to a conclusion about my lifestyle without ever saying a word to me. Of course people are judged by how they look everywhere, but not like this. crazy.

By the way, people continue to think I'm like 16. I know one day I will appreciate looking younger than my real age, but for now it's getting a little old. I mean, really. Actually I don't mind when it means people help me out, but you know, I was already 16, and it wasn't so awesome that I want to repeat it. that is all.

Some might be surprised to know that there is a nightlife in Jerusalem. I had my first night out last night, with a roommate and friend. It is true that it is a smaller scene, but it is definitely there. There were tons of young people out in the streets (my roommate said most of the kids who just sat outside were too young to go in to the clubs, which explains why I felt so old as we walked from one place to another). Inside was fine though. Because the girls I was with are arts types, I got to see the 'alternative' places, you know - the places where everyone looks artsy and underground and whatever, and they play unusual music (that's me being nice) way too loud. But it was fun to see it all, and go to places I would never go on my own. There are tons of police in the streets, which isn't too different from any city at night, but there were soldiers, also, and barricades limiting where cars could go. It brought home the reality that many suicide bombings have occurred at clubs and places like that, where young people gather at night.

This led to a long conversation with my roommate as we walked home that lasted until 4 am, about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Israeli culture, the culture of war, history, people, etc. and etc. until we were talking about the basic nature of humanity and all that. Part of what I love about living in this country is how much everyone knows about the social and political situations, the news, and what's going on in other parts of the world, as well. I tend to think of myself as fairly well-educated about current events, but I am constantly learning things here, including things about the US that Americans really ought to know. And I'm hearing a perspective that is less involved (as far as US activity is concerned), and so has some interesting points to make.

Earlier in the evening, I went to my cousin's for a nice Shabbat dinner. Me, not a cook; My cousin, amazing cook - it wasn't a hard decision. BUT, it turns out busses don't run on the Sabbath. So I had to walk to my cousin's, which is quite a ways away. And therein lies my question: how is making me walk across town a part of the whole Shabbat concept of resting? I would rest much better in a bus. So really, not having busses forces me to not be able to observe the resting rule, which I would gladly follow (no lazy jokes, please). And what about all the non-Jews? They are being limited in their activities on a day that they don't believe is special. What is that? And if the Jews thought they would just bring them along for the ride (or walk, as it may be), see my above point about having no other choice but to work. or walk. or whatever.

As my roommates said, "Welcome to Jerusalem."

my future garden

this is my room. there is a reason you're only looking at walls - the middle is kind of empty, so there's nothing to see.

The big question of the week is: Who in the world would have guessed that I totally have this domestic side dying to come out of me? The other day I started to just tidy up my room a bit, and ended up cleaning the entire flat. Today, I bought some plants (mint, basil, and some red/orange flowers) and planted them in the little area outside my wimdow. What is this? Next thing you know I'll be cooking up a storm and feeding everyone around me until they run and hide...

I got dressed up in a longer skirt and sweater today, and ventured a couple blocks north of the city center, into a more religious neighborhood. Just for kicks. haha just kidding, I went because the other day when I was on the bus returning from my interview, I noticed a mattress store, and I wanted to check it out. Turns out they had nothing, but it was kind of interesting to be there. I kind of felt like an imposter, but there's no way anyone in the neighborhood would know. Except that I took off the sweater as soon as I reached the main street, revealing my arms all the way to the shoulders. I live on the edge.

The water heater broke again today. Charlie (the plumber) is starting to feel like the 4th roommate. And then the power went out. But then it came on again. Ah, the perks of living in an ancient city....

After 8 days of totally unpredictable hours, no bread, and the especially creepy experience of a major city falling totally silent, normal life has returned to Jerusalem. It's like everyone and everything has been holding their breath for today. I had an interview, internet installed, and the plumber came - all of which I tried to address during the holiday, but was unable to. And I'm not sure everyone appreciates the no bread thing. Bread is a major staple in the average Israeli's diet. Like really, a huge part. So 8 days without it is huge. The stores were totally crowded with people buying all the foods that weren't sold for the last week, it was pretty funny.

So on the bus on the way home from my interview this morning, it was just me and a bunch of religious men. Like with the all black and hats and everything. And I had 2 thoughts: 1) Why do some have the peyot (the curls above their ears), but some don't? and 2) I hope my elbows aren't offending anyone. You see, their women cover up from below the elbow, below the knee, and cover their hair. So I was a little concerned that my elbows might cause some problems.

Also, I realized something else. All the men don't look exactly alike - there are different patterns on their black suits.

I went to lunch (at 6pm) with one of my roommates, and got a chance to experience Jerusalem the way the young Jerusalemites do. It was really nice, and also interesting to talk to her - her parents are superreligious and live in a settlement town. Crazy, huh? So she was explaining to me all the different kinds of religious Jews, since to me they're all the same. But the thing is, they aren't. Like the way that some have peyot and others don't. And even the styles of the hats might indicate a kind of belief system, which is kind of hilarious. To me. This roommate is an art student, so when we got home I helped her put canvas on a wooden frame. Another item to put on the list of things I have never done before.

Another important thing I learned today: there is a pub almost right across the street from my building. These are the perks when you live in the center of the city! Hah I guess even people in Jerusalem just need a beer sometimes...

.... the water heater in the new place broke.
in case you were wondering.
don't worry, I promise not to wait until they fix it to shower. Good thing I know people.

and yes, that is me trying to make myself sound special and important.

So I tried to go to the store late this afternoon, forgetting in this city, the Passover holiday is not just something to mark on the calendar - it is a way of life. There were about 5 tourists on the streets. All the stores were closed. I saw a few Hassidic families (the men in the funny outfits, wives with hats or wigs, and about 25 children - religious Jewish families are like the Catholics in that way. Or the Catholics are like the Jews, I guess, since they came first. anyhow, moving on). THEN, I remembered that there is one (yes. just one.) 24-hour little supermarket-shop. On the way there, this guy stops me and asks if I speak English, and then asked me where the Old City is. I was a) totally stoked that he thought I was a local! and b) somewhat amused that he would come to Jerusalem and have no idea where the Old City is. It's not like it's hidden or anything, and in fact there are huge signs in quite a few main intersections.

But the fact of him thinking I was a Jerusalemite reminds me of another time, on the bus, that I don't think I wrote about. But I have a tendency to repeat myself, so if I already told this story, just skip it. Because I'm telling it again. I was coming back to my cousin's apartment late one night after meeting the girls who are now my roommates. This old woman gets on the bus and (of course) sits down right next to me. She glances at me a few times, makes some little remark, and when I smile a little and say "ken," (yes in Hebrew) she launches into the story of her life. In Hebrew. Wanna hear about it? I did. She was tired, long day - she's divorced and her kids are grown, but one son is in the army so she's still taking care of him. You know, doing his laundry, cooking for him when he comes home from the base, etc. Of course. I was seriously afraid she was going to try to set us up. Do not underestimate the power of Jewish mother shiddiching. Anyhow back to this woman (I never did get her name) - all of this, but Baruch haShem (literally "Bless the Name" - referring to God), she has her health and that is most important. I agreed. And then I got off the bus.

Actually before I begin, let me say that I just saw the news about the suicide bombing in Tel Aviv. Being in Jerusalem, none of the shrapnel got to me, so don't worry about that. I don't know what time it happened, but it might be interesting that I haven't heard anyone talking about it in the streets or anything (if I would be able to recognize that they're talking about it, that is). Anyhow, I want to take a moment to appreciate that it is not easy to live here and deal with the stress of constantly having to be on guard. You might get a little defensive, too, if you had to think that maybe any one of the people passing you in the street was carrying a bomb that could go off at any time. Kind of puts everything into perspective, doesn't it?

On a totally different (quite a bit more selfish) note, I moved yesterday! Of course, that was after getting dropped of at IKEA, getting rushed out almost immediately, dumped at the train station with no instruction, getting lost in Tel Aviv, and fighting my way to a bus back to Jerusalem. My roommates are really nice, and it feels great to actually unpack and take a look at all that I brought along with me - can you belive I have been living out of a suitcase for over a month and a half?! There are clothes I forgot I own, hah. My room is a little lonely-looking with just the little mattress I'm borrowing until I find a real one, but what can you do. I tried asking my roommates where they got their furniture, and they're like, oh I just found everything. um. what? They tell me that people just put their furniture out on the street. well, ok.... but I don't think I'll wait to find a bed. That seems a little more important.

I went to the shuk today, which is basically like a big permanent farmer's market-meets-the-Middle-East place, I don't know if I've mentioned it before. It's colorful, loud, crowded, full of smells (most of them good), and totally vibrant and full of life. In addition to my various fruits and veggies, I managed to buy fresh hummus and some of the best babaganoush (Romani-style) that I have ever had. I ate some with the pita I bought in a nearby Arab village yesterday (it's the only place you can get bread over Passover, I'm such a sinner - but at least I'll go with a smile on my face and pita-and-hummus in my belly!). Delish. And there's no way you can ever get stuff like this anywhere else in the world.

AND, I got another interview! Ok well really it's with a company I already have interviewed with, but they closed the project I originally interviewed for. So it's encouraging that they still want to find a place for me! I might actually get employed!!! Gosh with a place of my own and a job, the only thing I'll have to work on is the Hebrew thing.... as if it's that easy. Oh yes, and the shiddich-dodging, as well.

Now not everyone reading this may know, but Passover, one of the more important holidays in Judaism, started on Wednesday evening. It will last for 8 days. It is a little strange - but in a good way - to be in a country where it is a huge deal. As in, fewer stores are open, bread isn't sold ANYWHERE (I'll get to why in a minute), and people have shopped like it's Christmas.

Passover is a holiday that the Jews celebrate in rememberance of their escape from slavery in Egypt. God sent plagues until finally the pharoah let them free, but he (the pharoah, not God) kept changing his mind so the Jews had to flee and didn't have time to let the bread rise, so what came out of the oven was unleavened bread, which Jews to this day eat during this holiday, to appreciate what the ancestors had to go through. That's the superfast superficial version, in a nutshell. So in celebration there is a special meal, called a seder. (Random fact: this was Jesus' last meal before he was crucified) It is a long combination of praying, eating special symbolic foods, drinking wine, and eating until you think you might explode. Also, storytelling and singing aren't requirements, but you will rarely go to a seder that doesn't also include these.

I did the seder in Tel Aviv, at my uncle's wife's apartment. With them, my cousin and his wife, another cousin, and the first cousin's visiting friends, it was a nice little group. The friends were visiting from Turkey, so this was their first Passover, which was kind of neat. On the drive from Jerusalem I got a chance to talk to them a bit, and I learned some interesting things, among them: The Turkish alphabet is almost identical to Latin, but the grammer of the language is the exact same as Japanese.

Anyhow. I got to see my cousin who is in the army, which is always a treat. And it was kind of crazy to think that all these events we're talking about happened right here, in the area that I'm living in today. It makes the whole experience a bit more enhanced, I think.

I stayed in Tel Aviv and got a chance to take a nice long bike ride around the city, through Jaffo (the older Arab city linked to it), and along the beach. It was lovely, and perhaps I was a little quick in my harsh judgments. That said, there is no way I would want to live there in the summertime when it's like 90 degrees with 90 percent humidity, but I'm not as opposed to the idea of living there at some point as I was before.

In other news, I should be moving to my own place today!!! wooooooooooooo. well, except for the little detail about not having any furniture. But what can you do.

...I think I accidentally wander into places I shouldn't be. But then I manage to get myself back on the right track.

I had two whole conversations today in Hebrew with people who didn't speak English, and I totally rocked it! Maybe this crazy experiment will work, after all...

I would also like to report that this week, I have been venturing out of the relative safety of the known area that is the city center, in efforts to prepare for my upcoming move. And going on an interview. And in search for the perfect felafel. So far, I have managed to complete (most of) my tasks, avoid getting lost, and sometimes even get mistaken for a native Israeli!

p.s. I eat hummus every day

So the other night I was invited along to a "dance performance" at the Jerusalem Theatre. Of course I'm going, right? .... I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it in my life. Not to say that I would ever want to see anything like that ever again. I'm not really sure how what I saw classified as dancing. It was like new-age-interpretive-dance with a lot of jumping around to strange sounds that I suppose was music. I might be a little left (ok, a lot left) of center, but even I had a hard time getting into all of it.
And yet, it was kind of like brainwash, because there were parts that I was totally fascinated by. I mean, how do these people come up with the idea of jumping and flopping around on mattresses while flailing their arms? Do they really choreograph a piece like that and then sit around going, Wow, what an amazing dance performance that is going to be! These were some of my thoughts as I was watching, when I wasn't cringing at the high-waisted short-shorts that the male dancers were wearing. And there was one who was definitely Middle-East hairy. Ew. Do you think he argued for outfits with more coverage? And when he lost that one, don't you think he would take action to get rid of some of the unsightly hair? Not that I believe in male-waxing in general, but when you're going to be on stage in something that's practically a mankini....

So let's take this and compare it to last night, when, after dinner, my cousin pulls out his Turkish drum and begins to play. It was totally awesome. I don't see how people pay money to see the dance thing, when they can have crazy awesome drum sessions at home. He just played and played, more pure and enjoyable than the night before, for sure.

Of course, we are family. Protectsia, you know.

Best part about rainy days in Jerusalem: the religious men. seriously.
Before I begin, let us go over the standard appearance of these men, so we all start on the same page. Black suit, white dress shirt, often another heavy, formal black coat over. Underneath their dress shirts, they wear special tunic/garment things with tzitzim (kind of like tassles) on the four corners. Actually some wear them over their shirts, but let's not get too complicated. The point is that the tzitzim hang out so everyone can see them. Religious men wear a black kippah (or yammuka, the smaller head-covering that many Jewish men wear), and on top of that they wear a big black hat that has a wide brim. Most of these men have (unmanecured) beards, and all have peyot, one lock of hair hanging over each ear, usually curled. The thought on the curled thing is that it becomes that way from the men twirling it as they study the Torah or other holy stuff. These men have looked like this for centuries.

But the fun really starts when it rains. The pants are folded under and (it looks like) tucked into the socks, resulting in a capri-like trouser with black socks and black shoes, and looking kind of like pictures I've seen of little English boys running around in their shorts before they're old enough to wear pants. The big hats that the men wear are still present, but often wrapped in plastic to keep them dry, or something. I've never asked. It looks like some weird version of the women in Africa and that who carry water on their heads - except it's these very serious grown men with plastic sacks on their heads, in capri-shorts and stockings.
I was on the bus today, when a religious man got on and sat in the seat in front of me, looking pretty normal. His peyot were twisted and wrapped around his ears (hilarious, but pretty typical - I think it helps them keep shape). But then, he took out a plastic bag. Put his hat in the plastic bag. And put the whole thing back on his head. So he was sitting there with his hair wrapped around his ears and a plastic bag on his head, but still a serious, religious man. I was fascinated - it was only like a foot away, and I couldn't stop staring. Good thing it was in front and not to the side or something, I couldn't look away no matter how rude it might be. My lips were clamped so I wouldn't grin like an idiot, but I had to clench my jaw, too, so I wouldn't start laughing. When he stood up I saw that he was wearing the Jew-capri, and my stomach hurt from the effort not to react. CLASSIC. I didn't have my camera today, and now it probably won't rain anymore so I won't be able to show you. aw man...

For more complete, less scattered information about Hassidic Judaism, the Wikipedia site is pretty good:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hasidic_Judaism

on another but kind of related rant....
Everyone knows that Jerusalem is a complicated city (to put it mildly). Its location on the border of the West Bank and Israel, and being a major player for all 3 major monotheistic religions makes for a very tumultuous existence that can be felt in the air. But what there is less international commentary on (until now! hahaha) are the intra-Israeli cultural and religious divisions that, for me, are as palpable as the rest of it.

What the heck am I talking about? Ok well I just wrote a whole thing about how funny the religious Jewish men look when it rains, right? Well the people in Israel, and especially in Jerusalem, run all the way from ubersuperultraorthodox (there are neighborhoods where women have been stoned for not covering up properly) to secular-modern, like anyone you could see in any Western country. Accordingly, there are all variations of political and social values. And Jerusalem, being in such a politically volitile location, is a hotbed for active and passive expression of those views.

A while ago, Jews opposed to the unilateral withdrawls from the occupied territories took to wearing orange ribbons to express their support for settlers who wouldn't leave. Today, there are still orange ribbons all over the city, an indication of Jerusalem's large conservative population. But there is more to it than that, even though I find that alone very disconcerting. I mean, how hypocritical is it for Jews to whine about being kicked out of their homeland and not having a place to settle for 5,000 years, and then go and put others in the exact same situation? end rant. well, that rant.

Orange has come to be the token color for the resistance movement. To me, the worst is when the settlers who were being forced to move (after refusing to do so themselves) tried to liken themselves to Holocaust victims, as if they were the same as Jews and others being vicitimized by the Nazis. It makes me sick. They even wore (orange) stars of David, just like the Jews were forced to do by the Nazis. Can you believe that? And that is all part of the orange, conservative movement that actually has a lot of support in this city. It is insane, and makes me feel disgusted with people who hide behind the cover of religion to manipulate and repress others.

I think this is something that not many people outside of the Israeli/Jewish community might know about, and I have strong feelings about it so I wanted to share. Since I can. And no one can interrupt me, ahahahaa... But it is also an integral part and daily reality of living in Jerusalem. There are orange ribbons. Religiously dressed men and women everywhere (I'm not sure if I'll be comfortable wearing strappy tank tops in summer, that's how strong the religious presence here is).

This has come out souding like Jerusalem is this stifling, oppressive, awful place, and I want to stress that it really isn't. It is amazing and magical, but this is also part of it. The mix from the right and left are part of what make it such a unique place. Since we all know what the Western influences look like, it is more meaningful to describe the other part, that many people in the US are never exposed to. But you really need to be here to truely feel it. I love visitors anytime!

I was finally able to post some pictures in the photo gallery... but I don't know how you get to that site. But they're there, if you can find it, ahahaha....

I FOUND A PLACE TO LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...and it's awesome. For starters, the street is called Shmuel HaNagid. really. shmuel. shmoo-elle. Not just the name of little old Jewish men in the stories. It's across the street from the artsy university. The 2 other girls who live there are rad. It's so cheap it would make any Californian cry (well actually, anyone who has to pay their own bills, really). It's in the center of the city. I found it BY MY SELF on Hebrew website. There is a cat named Curtis. The bathroom is bright green. One of my new roommates emigrated here from Siberia when she was 7. Did you know there really truely are people who are from there?!?! It always seemed like there was no one in that area of the world, to me. Well, maybe they all moved out, haha... Anyhow, I am totally stoked. I move in the 15th. wooooooooooooooooooo..............