The following is a list of the luxuries that I miss. I call them luxuries because... well, I can certainly live without them, though some more than others. I call them luxuries because all my readers out there (thats all 4 of you!) may not know that these items are indeed luxuries, so if you happen to have these items in your life, hold them close to your heart and cherish them deeply. I've written next to each item what it has been replaced with, read on...
Luxuries Miss List (in absolutely no particular order)
1. My Camry - replaced with very expensive Ford Focus that stalls once a week and has squeeky brakes.
2. Dunkin' Donuts drive through- replaced with standing on long lines in cafes, waiting to order the only drink out of a list of 20 that is able to be made caffeine free.
3. High Quality for Low price- replaced with low quality for high price. Its simply an injustice!
4. Relaxing Saturday nights- no replacement.
5. Sundays - replaced by Shabbat, no comparison.
6. My treadmill- replaced with miles of beautiful walking terrain, but no time to take advantage.
7. Tasti -D-lite and other low cal treats- don't you know that Israelis don't diet... there is no replacement available.
8. Having 5 channels and being able to turn on the TV and find something to watch- replaced by having 100 channels and not being able to find anything to watch.
9. A cozy warm apt. on a cold winter night- replaced by a drafy apartment that doesn't retain any amount of heat that is blown into it. (I know I know... its cool in the summer...)
10. Having hot water whenever you want it- replaced with having hot water a 1/2 hour after whenever you want it.
11. Recycling facilities- replaced by feeling guilty that I am destroying this wonderful planet of Earth because I throw my newspapers out with the rest of my trash!
12. Bobbi Brown Counter at Bloomingdale's- replaced by cheezy makeup ladies at the Super-Pharm that hound you until you explain that you just came to buy diapers.
13. The Gap- irreplacable.
14. Free shopping carts at the supermarket- replaced by needing to dig into my wallet and every pocket in order to find a 5 shekel coin. Is that really enough of a deterrant for someone who wants to steal one? Come on!
I reserve the right to add to this list...
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Topsey Turvey Day
Today was "V'nahafoch Huh", or Topsey Turvey day, in preparation for Purim. As I mentioned in the previous post, I was very nervous about what to wear, and I forgot to ask the other teachers what they wear on such a day. As a new olah all I ever want to do is just FIT IN and NOT MESS UP! Needless to say, this kind of day put a lot of pressure on me. I got dressed pretty normally, aside from my bubble gum rain boots (it was raining anyway) and some of Ayelet's beaded necklaces. I figured I can always turn my clothes inside out if need be, and if not, I'm safe. I got to school this morning a couple minutes early, and I stayed in my car to scout out the scene. (I pretended I was on my cell phone, lest anyone wonder why I'm just sitting in my car). I was shocked to see that everyone entering school seemed to be dressed pretty normally- students and teachers alike! I'm used to SAR, where you can spot topsey turvey day from a mile away- really clowny outfits and silly accessories. But I was relieved by my assessment, and figured I had made a good decision this morning. Perhaps I was mistaken and it wasn't topsey turvey day after all. Once I got to school I realized that it was indeed topsey turvey day, but it was a much milder form than SAR's. The kids were wearing regular clothing, just inside out or backwards. No mismatched socks or crazy hats. So I snuck into the bathroom and turned my shirt inside out, and I was done. I figured that plus the boots and the necklace, I've really outdone myself. What's funny was that no one understaood how the boots and necklaces fit in. Here I was thinking that my boots looked silly, but everyone kept complementing me on them, and they did so very seriously...though surprisingly no one asked me how much they cost :) . The necklaces too, I got all sorts of comments, but it seemed like no one really understood that they were "lichvod" topsey turvey day. It was a fun day all in all, and most importantly, I survived!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Random briefings of the week
Lets talk about my Hebrew...its certainly been improving. In fact, this week someone thought I was Israeli for about 10 seconds, thats a new record! I was going for a jog (which consisted mostly of me walking, but its sounds much better if I say "jog"), and a car pulled up next to me and asked me for directions. In Israel, when you ask for directions, you don't say "Ayfoh Rechov Ben Yehudah?" (Where is Ben Yehudah Street?). In an effort to make the Hebrew language even more concise, you drop the "Ayfoh" and just say a street name with an inflection, i.e. "Ben Yehudah?" I therefore had no idea the woman asking was American, all she did was say a street name. I started to tell her in Hebrew what streets to take to her destination, and about 2 sentences in, she said, "Oh, you're American...we can just speak in English." While I was honestly a bit relieved, I was a little disappointed. I thought I had her fooled. But for now, even if she thought I was Israeli for 2 sentences worth, I decided that thats deserving enough to give myself a pat on the back...or a cookie when I finish my walk.
I was reminded however that my Hebrew had not improved enough in school recently. I was teaching a first grade class and one of the students, Michal, came in late. I stopped the lesson for a second to give her a hug hello and ask her if everything was ok, she said yes and went to sit in her seat. The next morning, I saw Michal's mother in school and she thanked me for hugging Michal yesturday morning when she came into class late. I wanted to say, " Ayn Ba'ayah" (No problem!), but instead what came out was, "Lo Norah" - "not so bad!" Essentially I was telling this mother that it wasn't so bad to hug her child. The mother winced, and so did I, and once again, I'm hoping she's forgotten about it by now...
This week was Rosh Chodesh Adar. We had a big "mesibah" or party in school on Rosh Chodesh. The whole school said Hallel together and then we had singing and dancing, including all the appropriate Purim songs. When I told this to my mother she asked, "Did all your students know the words?" I said "Mom, thats like asking a 7 year old American if they know the words to The Wheels on the Bus!" These kids were raised on these songs, and its so natural to them. They actually know the words and understand them. The mesibah was a lot of fun, and now everyone is getting very excited about Purim. From now until Purim, every day there is a separate theme for dressing up. One day is stripes, one day is polka dits, one day is pajamas, etc. I'm a little nervous, because the first dress up day is tomorrow, its officially topsey turvey day, but I don't know if teachers partake! I wasn't in school today and I forgot to ask 2 days ago... my gut says to dress up, oy vey! we'll see how creative I can be at 7 Am tomorrow morning.
Today I went to my courses in the Michlalah. They have a lunch room there that serves hot breakfast and lunch, as well as coffee and tea. The lady who works there told us that we don't have to pay for hot water, if we want to bring a tea bag or hot cocoa packet from home (well, she didn't say hot cocoa packet because such things don't exist here, but thanks to the Fruchter family visits, I've got enough hot cocoa packets to last me a while. ) For the past couple of weeks I've been buying a coffee there in the morning for 5 shekel and then maybe taking some hot water later for a tea or hot cocoa. This morning I decided that 5 shekel is a lot for an instant cofee, especially when I can just bring it from home. So I added to my Mary Poppins-bag-of-snacks a hot cup and some coffee grains. When I got to school I went in to the lunch room with my cup of coffee grains and filled it up with hot water, and then I walked over to the milk and sugar counter and started to lift the pitcher of milk. The man who runs the place, a tall, large Israeli man in his sixties came over to me and started yelling at me, in a very demeaning way, implying that I was stealing his milk, because I wasn't planning on paying for it. He cared so much about this milk it was as if he milked the cow himself and brought it from his kibbutz or something. He didn't quit yelling at me, and kept repeating the same thing over and over again. I got the idea, I wanted to say, but I didn't think he would have liked that very much. So I waited till he was done and then asked him how much would it cost if I just payed for some milk, and he said a half a shekel. So I forked over the coin politely, and was terrified to enter the lunchroom for the rest of the day. What did I learn from this experience, you might ask. Hmmm. Its time to get used to black coffee.
I was reminded however that my Hebrew had not improved enough in school recently. I was teaching a first grade class and one of the students, Michal, came in late. I stopped the lesson for a second to give her a hug hello and ask her if everything was ok, she said yes and went to sit in her seat. The next morning, I saw Michal's mother in school and she thanked me for hugging Michal yesturday morning when she came into class late. I wanted to say, " Ayn Ba'ayah" (No problem!), but instead what came out was, "Lo Norah" - "not so bad!" Essentially I was telling this mother that it wasn't so bad to hug her child. The mother winced, and so did I, and once again, I'm hoping she's forgotten about it by now...
This week was Rosh Chodesh Adar. We had a big "mesibah" or party in school on Rosh Chodesh. The whole school said Hallel together and then we had singing and dancing, including all the appropriate Purim songs. When I told this to my mother she asked, "Did all your students know the words?" I said "Mom, thats like asking a 7 year old American if they know the words to The Wheels on the Bus!" These kids were raised on these songs, and its so natural to them. They actually know the words and understand them. The mesibah was a lot of fun, and now everyone is getting very excited about Purim. From now until Purim, every day there is a separate theme for dressing up. One day is stripes, one day is polka dits, one day is pajamas, etc. I'm a little nervous, because the first dress up day is tomorrow, its officially topsey turvey day, but I don't know if teachers partake! I wasn't in school today and I forgot to ask 2 days ago... my gut says to dress up, oy vey! we'll see how creative I can be at 7 Am tomorrow morning.
Today I went to my courses in the Michlalah. They have a lunch room there that serves hot breakfast and lunch, as well as coffee and tea. The lady who works there told us that we don't have to pay for hot water, if we want to bring a tea bag or hot cocoa packet from home (well, she didn't say hot cocoa packet because such things don't exist here, but thanks to the Fruchter family visits, I've got enough hot cocoa packets to last me a while. ) For the past couple of weeks I've been buying a coffee there in the morning for 5 shekel and then maybe taking some hot water later for a tea or hot cocoa. This morning I decided that 5 shekel is a lot for an instant cofee, especially when I can just bring it from home. So I added to my Mary Poppins-bag-of-snacks a hot cup and some coffee grains. When I got to school I went in to the lunch room with my cup of coffee grains and filled it up with hot water, and then I walked over to the milk and sugar counter and started to lift the pitcher of milk. The man who runs the place, a tall, large Israeli man in his sixties came over to me and started yelling at me, in a very demeaning way, implying that I was stealing his milk, because I wasn't planning on paying for it. He cared so much about this milk it was as if he milked the cow himself and brought it from his kibbutz or something. He didn't quit yelling at me, and kept repeating the same thing over and over again. I got the idea, I wanted to say, but I didn't think he would have liked that very much. So I waited till he was done and then asked him how much would it cost if I just payed for some milk, and he said a half a shekel. So I forked over the coin politely, and was terrified to enter the lunchroom for the rest of the day. What did I learn from this experience, you might ask. Hmmm. Its time to get used to black coffee.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Midnight meeting: Alice in Wonderland or Peter Pan ?
Last night we had one of our "midnight meetings" in school. I call them that because when you attend them, you don't get to bed before 12. Let me explain: They are mandatory in-service meetings that occur one every other week, from 8-10:30 PM. I know! Could you believe?! Its just crazy. In the beginning of the year I was all grumpy and resentful about it. Now, I realize that there is not one single person there who wants to be there, so I take comfort in the fact that we're all suffering together. Anyway, at this particular meeting we were having a workshop on classroom management, discipline, and communication. It was the fourth session so far in the series, and while the presenter is knowledgable and interesting, my brain shuts off at about 9, so by the time he gets started he only has about a half hour of my attention. Shame. Anyway, its about 10PM, and I am starting to doze, I notice that there is a piece of looseleaf paper that is being passed around. I watch and observe: every one of my colleagues stops, reads and decides whether to sign or not, and then passes it on. My curiosity is perked and I anxiously await to read the notice for myself. I'm secretly hoping that its a petition against coming to these midnight meetings, or maybe its a petition about how to handle discipline in the school...I really am very curious. Finally it gets to me and I read it. It reads the following: "Whoever wants to be part of the Alice-in Wonderland group costume for Purim, sign below". I'm taken aback by the foolishness of the notice, and diappointed that its not the petition I was hoping for. Once I get over that, I don't know what to do. I don't want to sign up impulsively for this constume thing- what if my "friends" i.e. first grade co-teachers, who hadn't gotten the notice yet, won't sign up, and instead are planning their own group costume? Then I'd be all alone with a group of rabbits and bunny holes that I didn't know... I figured I would consult with them after the meeting, and in the meantime I would just pass on the note unsigned. I was curious to see though what would happen when the note reached my Vice Principal, who was sitting just 4 or 5 seats beyond me. How would she react? Would she be upset that such a trivial note is being passed around in the middle of a lecture, would she read it disapprovingly but sign it anyway, or would she be gung ho, middle of lecture and all. Well, those who guessed the last option are correct. I studied her reaction; She read it, she chuckled, she signed, and then she passed it on! This place is crazy I thought to myself. In what other school would such a thing happen? Now, a description of the V.P. is in order. She is petite, dark skin, young to mid forties. In the begining of the year her hair was short, reddish-purple. For the first few months of school whenever I would eavesdrop on a conversation between her and another teacher, it would always be about her hair. I kid you not. She would explain that she's growing it out because she has dreams of going curly. Well, its now chin length, and she got a perm, so its frizzy, and her dreams have been fulfilled. She wears leggings to school almost every day. Either with crocs or little booties. When she wears the leggings with little booties, she really really looks like Peter Pan. Trust me! I was so surprised that she signed up for Alice in Wonderland. All this time I thought she was headed in a completely different direction!
Election day
I know you were all dying to know the end of the story with the babysitter, so here goes: It turns out she was busy, so I tried the only other number I had for a babysitter, and thankfully she was available, and it all worked out great. Yaakov and I went out for dinner and had a great time. We were so relaxed knowing that the next day we would both be off and could have a lazy morning. The next day was election day. We got a late start and then headed to the voting booths. I had been warned that the voting system in Israel is a bit archaic- and now I can officially agree with that. We went behind a booth, where there was a table with about 20 or so piles of small pieces of paper, each with a particular party's name on it. Every voter is handed an envelope, and you select the slip of paper that represents the party of your choice. You place the slip of paper in your envelope and then you place your envelope into a large blue box. All the votes are counted manually! It was fun to be a part of it, though it would have been nice to feel a little bit more passionately about who I voted for. This year in Israel it felt a lot like picking the lesser of two evils. Anyway, after that we headed off to Jerusalem to the Old City to walk around a bit and visit the kotel. It was a beautiful day and we had a great time. I hadn't made a trip like this to the kotel in 2 and a half years, so it was quite special. We then headed off to Katamon to visit my grandfather, or as Ayelet refers to him as "big Saba"(if you saw him, you'd know why). On our way home we encountered a huge thunderstorm, and hail I might add, so when we got home we all snuggled up on the couch to watch Toy Story. It was our first time enjoying a movie together as a family, and it was really fun. All in all, I must say it was the perfect day. We had a little bit of adventure, a little bit of relaxation, and a lot of nostalgia for those Sundays that we miss SO MUCH! Looking forward to the next one... in four years!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The hunt for a good babysitter
As a parent I've been very spoiled. Not just because I have an amazing little girl for a daughter... but because I've been blessed with wonderful babysitters. In Riverdale, I had the cream of the crop. Working in the junior high of a neighborhood school, I would hand pick my most favorite, most responsible students to be my babysitters. I really could trust them because I knew so much about them: their parents, their siblings, their social security numbers (okay that last one is just a lie). I had friends calling me saying, "Can you look at your class list and find me a babysitter?" It was awesome. Fast forward a couple of months and I find myself 6,000 miles away in a place called Buchman. Its a beautiful new suburban town, where the oldest kids are about 10 years old. You know what that means. Dearth of babysitters. When you find one here you don't let them go, and you most certainly don't share them with someone else (unless you're super nice or just stupid). Unfortunately for me, I haven't found one yet, and as wonderful as my daughter is, she is kind of particular about the adults she likes. While this might be asking a lot, I not only wanted to find a responsible babysitter who spoke English, I also wanted to find one that Ayelet would like. So pathetic as it may seem, we really haven't been out much at all. My parents babysat once, my brother babysat once, and my neighbor just once or twice. I decided it was time to be a little more aggressive about this because... I need to get out!
I was at the park today with Ayelet. It was a warm but cloudy day, so there weren't very many park goers at all. It was basically just us and a group of teenage girls- who were speaking English. I looked at them and thought, they can't possibly be younger than 12. Its worth a try. I approached them. I kept thinking this is crazy, who am I? What kind of mother picks up a random teenager and asks her to babysit her daughter. But I went for it anyway. I asked one of the girls her age, her grade, where she lives, parents names, does she have experience babysitting, for who, etc. The exchange went well, and best of all, Ayelet had a twinkle in her eye and immediately connected with this 8th grade girl. She gave me her number and I just left her a message a couple of minutes ago, asking if shes available tomorrow night. Tomorrow night is not just an ordinary Monday night. Its the night before the elections. Practically the whole country has off on election day. Its our only real vacation day other than religous chagim and Independance day. Simply put: tomorrow night is the equivalent of Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, except it only happens once every 4 years! I'll do whatever it takes to get a babysitter and go out!
I was at the park today with Ayelet. It was a warm but cloudy day, so there weren't very many park goers at all. It was basically just us and a group of teenage girls- who were speaking English. I looked at them and thought, they can't possibly be younger than 12. Its worth a try. I approached them. I kept thinking this is crazy, who am I? What kind of mother picks up a random teenager and asks her to babysit her daughter. But I went for it anyway. I asked one of the girls her age, her grade, where she lives, parents names, does she have experience babysitting, for who, etc. The exchange went well, and best of all, Ayelet had a twinkle in her eye and immediately connected with this 8th grade girl. She gave me her number and I just left her a message a couple of minutes ago, asking if shes available tomorrow night. Tomorrow night is not just an ordinary Monday night. Its the night before the elections. Practically the whole country has off on election day. Its our only real vacation day other than religous chagim and Independance day. Simply put: tomorrow night is the equivalent of Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, except it only happens once every 4 years! I'll do whatever it takes to get a babysitter and go out!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I'm a student again!
I've decided to pursue an official teacher's licence, since I don't have one yet. The way it came about though was so... Israeli. I got a phone call about 2 weeks ago, it was a Thurs afternoon at about 5 PM, from a woman at Misrad Hachinuch (think Board of Ed), telling me about this teacher's licensing program in English specifically for new olim. It starts in February she said, so I must call the woman in charge, Orit as soon as possible. BUT, Orit is only in the office Mondays and Thursdays, so I'll have to wait till Monday to call. Surprised? No. Okay, I made it my business to call Orit on Monday. She told me to come in for an interview Thursday, so I did. I ventured out to Tel Aviv. I was so nervous, I was sweating and my heart was racing . I really wanted to get into this program. I was hoping they'd consider me qualified. I reached the building and I was invited into a office where I sat before a committee of 4 people, who in a matter of minutes, determined I was perfect for the program. Have you taught before? Yes. You speak English and Hebrew well? Yes. Do you have a teacher's licence? No. Okay, you're in. The rest of the half hour was spent explaining the program, trying to settle some techinical and logistical issues etc. One of the bigger challenges discussed was the fact that the program is twice a week, and I had only one day a week on which I wasn't working. The committee explained that I would have to convince my principal to let me have another day off in order to attend classes. This task did not seem so appealing to me, so I asked if they could call the principal right then and there and explain to her the importance of me being there twice a week. I wanted this request to come from them. One of the committee members responded "It wouldn't be professional if we'd call her now, we'll write her a letter and you'll give it to her. " Okay I figured, I understand. I expected to get a type-written letter on official letterhead, you know, something "professional" looking. Instead, the director of the program wrote a scribbly note on a piece of paper from his notepad, and put in a sealed envelope. Sure, I thought to myself, this is much more professional than a phone call...
After all was settled, they told me the program starts Tues, in Cholon. and that there a number of people attending from Modiin. "How do I get there, can I have directions?" I asked. "Call one of the other girls from Modiin, they'll tell you," and I was handed another scribbly note with a couple of phone numbers on it.
Thankfully all went well with my principal, scribbly note and all. By Sunday afternoon, I knew I would be attending school on Tues. I called "one of the girls from Modiin" and we decided to car pool, which worked out well. She and the another 2 Anglo women became my instant buddies. My first day of school was interesting, in a taking-it-all-in kind of way...I thought I would be one of a room full of Anglo olim just like me. You know, from Efrat, or Ramat Beit Shemesh... from New York or London...It turned out that only half of us were Anglos and the others... Russians. Yup, the tall, skinny, blonde type. Heres the weird thing- why do all Russian women have blonde hair and all Russian men have black hair? This will be very interesting, I thought. Are they going to learn how to speak English before we start this program? Then I yelled at myself for being so judgemental. I mean, here I am, an American, teaching first-grade-Israelis Hebrew. Shame on me. It turns out that during our lunch break I was sitting around with some of the people from the program and one of the other Americans thought I was Russian! I mean I've been told I look Chinese, Vietnamese, even Hawaiian, but Russian- never! I am the farthest thing from tall, skinny, and blonde. I was actually thinking to myself that this person doesn't look Jewish at all, but I didn't go there...
Also interesting is the makeup of the school altogether. Its a michlala datit, where religous women go to get their teacher's licenses. Everyone was young, like 19 or 20, wearing skirts, and lots of them were covering their hair and pregnant. So I finally got my Stern experience after all.
The day wasn't so bad. On a scale from 1-10, I think it was a 5. The month of February is devoted to workshops, and the real courses start in March. We spent about 6 hours there, in a workshop about introducing art into all areas of learning. I think what I learned could've been learned in about a quarter of the time, but thats okay. The presenter was really smart and experienced, but it was initially hard to take her seriously given her choice of wardrobe. I just kept thinking: My mother presents at these kinds of workshops all the time. This woman's outfit is so far-fetched that it would qualify as a Purim costume for my mom. A long summer dress, hot pink socks, light blue patent leather Mary Janes, etc. But in the end, I did gain from the experience and became optimistic about the program.
After all was settled, they told me the program starts Tues, in Cholon. and that there a number of people attending from Modiin. "How do I get there, can I have directions?" I asked. "Call one of the other girls from Modiin, they'll tell you," and I was handed another scribbly note with a couple of phone numbers on it.
Thankfully all went well with my principal, scribbly note and all. By Sunday afternoon, I knew I would be attending school on Tues. I called "one of the girls from Modiin" and we decided to car pool, which worked out well. She and the another 2 Anglo women became my instant buddies. My first day of school was interesting, in a taking-it-all-in kind of way...I thought I would be one of a room full of Anglo olim just like me. You know, from Efrat, or Ramat Beit Shemesh... from New York or London...It turned out that only half of us were Anglos and the others... Russians. Yup, the tall, skinny, blonde type. Heres the weird thing- why do all Russian women have blonde hair and all Russian men have black hair? This will be very interesting, I thought. Are they going to learn how to speak English before we start this program? Then I yelled at myself for being so judgemental. I mean, here I am, an American, teaching first-grade-Israelis Hebrew. Shame on me. It turns out that during our lunch break I was sitting around with some of the people from the program and one of the other Americans thought I was Russian! I mean I've been told I look Chinese, Vietnamese, even Hawaiian, but Russian- never! I am the farthest thing from tall, skinny, and blonde. I was actually thinking to myself that this person doesn't look Jewish at all, but I didn't go there...
Also interesting is the makeup of the school altogether. Its a michlala datit, where religous women go to get their teacher's licenses. Everyone was young, like 19 or 20, wearing skirts, and lots of them were covering their hair and pregnant. So I finally got my Stern experience after all.
The day wasn't so bad. On a scale from 1-10, I think it was a 5. The month of February is devoted to workshops, and the real courses start in March. We spent about 6 hours there, in a workshop about introducing art into all areas of learning. I think what I learned could've been learned in about a quarter of the time, but thats okay. The presenter was really smart and experienced, but it was initially hard to take her seriously given her choice of wardrobe. I just kept thinking: My mother presents at these kinds of workshops all the time. This woman's outfit is so far-fetched that it would qualify as a Purim costume for my mom. A long summer dress, hot pink socks, light blue patent leather Mary Janes, etc. But in the end, I did gain from the experience and became optimistic about the program.
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