Hello readers! Believe it or not, I am back on the “other side” of the Atlantic (for now, anyway) while I am on break. I know I haven’t written in a while (sorry about that) but not for lack of time, but because there is simply less to report. One of the hardest adjustments I’ve had to make since moving to Arad is learning how to have downtime. It was never something I had (or knew how to enjoy/appreciate) in high school; it was always school, studying, extracurricular commitments, hours of dance, more studying, some sleep, and repeat. Now, however, I find myself with odd amounts of time to myself. Unfortunately, it’s never a consecutive chunk of time to, for example, make it worthwhile to travel to Be’er Sheba (it’s about 45 minutes on a bus from Arad) or go anywhere except the Laundromat (I try to go at least once every 10 days or so. It’s a good activity), Mega Bool (again, this is not an everyday thing… unfortunately) or visit other apartments (they’re all ten to fifteen minute walks from each other. This gets old fast). That being said, we’ve learned to be creative. Here’s a list of fun(ish) things to do in Arad if you need a quick activity to occupy two hours or less:
1. Go for a walk in the “center” of town. Sit near the construction site (yes, there’s only one) near Bank Hapoalim, around the corner from the bus station (three benches) and the Laundromat, and watch the “mayors” convene for what can only be important deliberations (I try to overhear, but most conversations are in Arabic. I like to sit and watch groups of Bedouin men stroll through the center, donning their head coverings and floor-length garb even on the warmest days. They clearly run the place). While you’re there, stop by and have a falafel or kebab sandwich in the restaurant (it’s a hole in the wall. That’s what makes it delicious) near the change store and across from the (well, once of several) spice market. One of my friends volunteers there; she chops vegetables for Israeli salad and potatoes to make fries. I try to visit her (and have lunch, naturally) every once in a while.
2. Go to Mega Bool (they will pick you up if you call in advance) and try to find the best deals on meat, chicken and fresh vegetables (all Bool deals are done by the kilo. Know what you’re buying and exactly how much of it. You will be shocked).
3. With your new purchases, make dinner for friends. We try to have themed nights (Italian night, Mexican… takeout…) Make sure your guests bring something, too! Need ideas? Try quesadillas and guacamole:
Elana’s Quick Quesdadillas:
Ingredients:
Flour tortillas (two per quesadilla, one for the “bottom” and one for the “top”)
2-3 large onions, chopped
2 red peppers, chopped
Jalapenos (you decide how hot you want your dinner to be)
Shredded cheddar cheese
Oil
Salt, pepper to taste
Two cloves garlic, minced
Procedure: In a frying pan, heat oil over medium heat. Saute onions until translucent, add garlic. Salt and pepper to taste. Remove onions and place to the side. Saute red peppers; once they become soft, add peppers to onions and set aside. Re-oil the pan and place a tortilla on the bottom. Add cheese (enough to cover the tortilla), pepper/onion mixture, and jalapenos (at your discretion). Place another tortilla on top. As the cheese begins to melt, flip the quesadilla so it cooks evenly on both sides. Once both top and bottom are golden-brown and the cheese has melted, remove from the pan. To keep the first quesadillas warm while you cook the others, turn the oven on low heat and keep the quesadillas in the oven to stay hot. Once all are finished, cut into triangles (like a pizza) and serve hot, with salsa and guacamole for dipping.
Yummy Guacamole:
Ingredients:
6 avocadoes, soft and ripe
1 red onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
Juice of a lime
1 tomato, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
Tabasco (optional, but delicious)
Procedure: Halve the avocadoes, remove pits (reserve at least 2 pits, throw the rest away) and remove skin. In a large mixing bowl, mash avocado and add chopped onion and garlic. Mix well, but avoid making the avocado too mushy; keep it slightly “chunky” for texture (you don’t want baby food). Add the juice of a lime, salt and pepper. If you wish, add a little Tabasco for an extra “kick.” Place chopped tomatoes on top. To keep the avocado from oxidizing quickly in the refrigerator (unless you’re eating it immediately) place the two reserved avocado pits in the guacamole and refrigerate until you’re ready to eat!
4. Make hot chocolate from scratch. This is a good activity for several reasons: a) it’s something to do that takes longer than simply spooning mix into a mug and boiling water, b) it tastes delicious and c) Tim Tam Slams will follow (see previous post).
Sandstorm-Proof Hot Chocolate:
Ingredients:
Milk (3-4 cups, based on how many you’re serving)
Boiling water
Chocolate ice cream (gelato works well, too)
2 teaspoons Instant coffee
1 teaspoon Cinnamon
2 tablespoons Sugar
Marshmallows (if you’re feeling adventurous/childish/in need of more sugar)
Procedure: In a large pot, warm milk over medium heat. When milk begins to bubble slightly, stir in chocolate ice cream (2-3 cups, based on how chocolatey you want your hot chocolate. Or just use the entire tub if it’s one of those days). When ice cream has melted, add coffee mix, cinnamon and sugar. Add 2-3 cups boiling water to the mixture. Serve in mugs and top with marshmallows. Also, have Tim Tams at the ready. Enjoy!
5. Insulate your apartment to protect against 30 mile/hour winds, sand and dirt that will inevitably end up in your bedroom. What’s best for this? Duct tape and a bath towel. Yes, we did it, and yes, it worked. Pictures to follow.
6. If you need a weekday activity between the hours of 9am and 3pm, come to the gan and help us sand/spackle. We need all the help we can get (although the walls are looking SO much better!) Or, you can play with the kids. They’re adorable!
7. Go to the mall and walk around for a little while. Once you’re there, go to Super Pharm and purchase a hot water bottle. Before going to bed, boil some water and pour it into the hot water bottle. Place it at the end of your bed, near your feet. Enjoy the best night of sleep ever.
8. Go to Muza. The food is great, the bar is fun, and the waiters/waitresses are all very nice and speak excellent English. If you’re a soccer fan (after living in Israel for a certain amount of time, you become one) then this is an especially cool place to watch a game in the company of other fanatics.
9. Have game night! Playing cards, Rummikub, and backgammon (called Shesh Besh in Israel) can be very amusing for quite some time. Serve snacks and you become a very popular apartment.
10. Blog, send email, download new music and movies you haven’t had a chance to see, and otherwise make good use of wireless Internet. It is truly a blessing.
Arad isn’t necessarily boring; it’s just not Tel Aviv, which has been a major change. I’m taking it as an opportunity to make my own fun, to spend lots of time at the gan, and to learn a new side of Israel I wouldn’t otherwise see. And the craziest part? I have less than a month to live there once vacation is over, because before I can say “Mega Bool,” I’ll be boarding a plane headed to Africa. Oy va voy!
Happy New Year (from America!)
Elana
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The Tim Tam Slam
Hello readers! I hope you enjoyed my pictures from the gan (there are more on Facebook!). It's about 2pm here in Arad and after a long morning hike (essentially right behind my apartment) and a leisurely lunch, I'm getting ready to leave for the weekend to Tel Aviv, but before I do, I just wanted to share some of yesterday's events with you:
For the first time in a long while, I beat my alarm at its own game. It was 7:30 and I had another half hour to sleep before I needed to get ready for volunteering, but I was so excited to arrive at the gan that I tossed and turned aimlessly. Finally, by 8:45 I was out of my apartment, on to Ben Yair street and headed through the markets, past the coin laundromat and into the set of buildings next to the playground where the gan is situated. Upon opening the door, I was greeted by a dozen smiling faces and running noses, all of which came at me at once, begging, arms outstretched to be picked up or put on my back. After putting my jacket on top of the refrigerator (only the children's coats and shoes go inside the fridge; there isn't enough room for our things) I began endless games of "airplane" and "ring around the rosy." Meanwhile, two of the other volunteers were outside, beginning our spackling project on the walls of the gan's backyard. Eventually, we switched jobs (Tuta was not happy about this. She continued screaming "Lana" from the gan's single window, looking for me as I sanded and spackled away outside. Eventually, she must have gotten tired because she realized I was no longer in the room and couldn't come back inside for a while, so she relented). I must say, spackling entire walls is not easy. Especially when the guy at Home Center tells you that one 15 kilogram bucket of spackle is enough; he clearly had no idea the kind of walls we were repairing. So, a few of us returned to Home Center for two more buckets and sandpaper (he was shocked to see us. I was not happy to see him), and by the end of the day, had spackled over every crack and uneven corner on all three walls. Currently, they are drying and we will start sanding and painting next week!
After finishing work at the gan, I decided to make dinner for my roommates and some friends. A go to choice? Chicken cacciatore. It's relatively healthy, everyone eats it, and it can be made in a single aluminum tin which I later throw away for an easy cleanup. Dinner was, if I may say, a success (we were so full it was painful) and later, for dessert, I made hot chocolate and one of my friends taught me the "Tim Tam Slam." Now, let me explain. Tim Tams (no, not Tam Tams. Those are gross Passover matzah crackers) are a type of chocolate cookie, indigenous to Israel, made with three layers of chocolate and a chocolate coating. To achieve a Tim Tam Slam, here is what must happen:
1. Obtain Tim Tam cookies. You will need at least a box of them.
2. Make hot chocolate or another hot beverage of your choice (but really, while you're going a little chocolate insane, hot chocolate is the most logical decision)
3. Bite one corner of the Tim Tam, and then bite the corner diagonally opposite it.
4. Submerge the cookie in your beverage enough to be able to put the top of the cookie in your mouth while it is still in your drink.
5. As if the cookie were a straw, "drink" your hot chocolate (or tea or coffee... I won't judge) through the cookie until you feel it start to soften in your mouth. At this point, put the entire cookie (which is now hot, so be careful) in your mouth, chew, and find a napkin nearby. You'll need it. Tim Tam Slams are messy snacks.
6. Repeat until you have a) gone into sugar shock, b) feel sick, or c) run out of Tim Tam Slams (but the last is really never a problem... the markets stay open pretty late)
While making a complete fool of myself attempting (and achieving) Tim Tam Slams, I realized that I would never be partaking in such craziness or find myself in such circumstances anywhere else. I would never be in an apartment in the middle of the Israeli desert with five of my friends, who are from all across the United States, drinking homemade hot chocolate and turning cookies into mush. I would never find myself so exhausted from volunteering at a Sudanese preschool (where else would I even find one to work in?) that all I want to do is sleep, even though I decide to make dinner and stay up much too late playing Rummikub. Although I sometimes (yes, even after all these months) find myself waking up and thinking, "Is this real? Am I actually living here?" I'm still amazed by simply being in such an incredible country with wonderful friends and new adventures. I think that all the craziness is what keeps it interesting, what keeps me guessing, and what continues to make me think, "Wow. I'm actually doing this. And I wouldn't give it up for anything."
I hope all is well - more next week! Shabbat Shalom (almost) from Israel!
Love always,
Elana
For the first time in a long while, I beat my alarm at its own game. It was 7:30 and I had another half hour to sleep before I needed to get ready for volunteering, but I was so excited to arrive at the gan that I tossed and turned aimlessly. Finally, by 8:45 I was out of my apartment, on to Ben Yair street and headed through the markets, past the coin laundromat and into the set of buildings next to the playground where the gan is situated. Upon opening the door, I was greeted by a dozen smiling faces and running noses, all of which came at me at once, begging, arms outstretched to be picked up or put on my back. After putting my jacket on top of the refrigerator (only the children's coats and shoes go inside the fridge; there isn't enough room for our things) I began endless games of "airplane" and "ring around the rosy." Meanwhile, two of the other volunteers were outside, beginning our spackling project on the walls of the gan's backyard. Eventually, we switched jobs (Tuta was not happy about this. She continued screaming "Lana" from the gan's single window, looking for me as I sanded and spackled away outside. Eventually, she must have gotten tired because she realized I was no longer in the room and couldn't come back inside for a while, so she relented). I must say, spackling entire walls is not easy. Especially when the guy at Home Center tells you that one 15 kilogram bucket of spackle is enough; he clearly had no idea the kind of walls we were repairing. So, a few of us returned to Home Center for two more buckets and sandpaper (he was shocked to see us. I was not happy to see him), and by the end of the day, had spackled over every crack and uneven corner on all three walls. Currently, they are drying and we will start sanding and painting next week!
After finishing work at the gan, I decided to make dinner for my roommates and some friends. A go to choice? Chicken cacciatore. It's relatively healthy, everyone eats it, and it can be made in a single aluminum tin which I later throw away for an easy cleanup. Dinner was, if I may say, a success (we were so full it was painful) and later, for dessert, I made hot chocolate and one of my friends taught me the "Tim Tam Slam." Now, let me explain. Tim Tams (no, not Tam Tams. Those are gross Passover matzah crackers) are a type of chocolate cookie, indigenous to Israel, made with three layers of chocolate and a chocolate coating. To achieve a Tim Tam Slam, here is what must happen:
1. Obtain Tim Tam cookies. You will need at least a box of them.
2. Make hot chocolate or another hot beverage of your choice (but really, while you're going a little chocolate insane, hot chocolate is the most logical decision)
3. Bite one corner of the Tim Tam, and then bite the corner diagonally opposite it.
4. Submerge the cookie in your beverage enough to be able to put the top of the cookie in your mouth while it is still in your drink.
5. As if the cookie were a straw, "drink" your hot chocolate (or tea or coffee... I won't judge) through the cookie until you feel it start to soften in your mouth. At this point, put the entire cookie (which is now hot, so be careful) in your mouth, chew, and find a napkin nearby. You'll need it. Tim Tam Slams are messy snacks.
6. Repeat until you have a) gone into sugar shock, b) feel sick, or c) run out of Tim Tam Slams (but the last is really never a problem... the markets stay open pretty late)
While making a complete fool of myself attempting (and achieving) Tim Tam Slams, I realized that I would never be partaking in such craziness or find myself in such circumstances anywhere else. I would never be in an apartment in the middle of the Israeli desert with five of my friends, who are from all across the United States, drinking homemade hot chocolate and turning cookies into mush. I would never find myself so exhausted from volunteering at a Sudanese preschool (where else would I even find one to work in?) that all I want to do is sleep, even though I decide to make dinner and stay up much too late playing Rummikub. Although I sometimes (yes, even after all these months) find myself waking up and thinking, "Is this real? Am I actually living here?" I'm still amazed by simply being in such an incredible country with wonderful friends and new adventures. I think that all the craziness is what keeps it interesting, what keeps me guessing, and what continues to make me think, "Wow. I'm actually doing this. And I wouldn't give it up for anything."
I hope all is well - more next week! Shabbat Shalom (almost) from Israel!
Love always,
Elana
Pictures from the Gan
Ilyssa with the kiddies
Tuta having some juice on my lap. She calls me "Lana." Close enough.
From left: Me, Brinley and Ilyssa, the master spacklers.
We love the gan!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
La!
Today was my first day of volunteering in Arad. I work at the pre-school ("gan" in Hebrew) for children of Sudanese refugees. Arad has a growing Sudanese population; the Israeli government has offered refuge for people fleeing the Sudan, particularly the Darfur region, due to the ongoing genocide. The gan itself is essentially a single room: four bare walls, one small couch, two cots and a rug on a linoleum floor. There is a simple kitchen: microwave, sink, and, to my surprise, two refrigerators. The refrigerators shocked me most; the children and the woman who runs the daycare are not Jewish, so having two fridges (one for meat and one for dairy) seemed strange. In my first ten minutes there, I discovered that the second refrigerator functions as shelves for shoes (the kids run around in socks or barefoot), jackets and a very small collection of coloring supplies. Watching them trot to the second refrigerator and stuff their fraying coats and tiny Crocs inside was heartbreaking.
Children in the gan range in age from 6 months to about 5 or 6 years old. They all speak Arabic (as does Aboba, the woman who runs the gan, which is also her home) and two or three of them speak elementary Hebrew (about as much as I do). They love to color, but then crayons end up in their mouths or up their noses, and the few dolls and toys they do have can become the sources of arguments, hitting, crying and overall frustration. Luckily, there is a television in the gan; from 9am to 3pm, endless cartoons in Arabic entertain children who aren't otherwise occupied (they would rather make a jungle gym out of me or the other volunteers, run around in the park, or try to bite my painted fingernails which apparently look like candy). I must say, watching Spongebob in Arabic is an experience; Squidward's accent is about as convincing as mine.
Since most of the children only speak and understand Arabic, I decided to learn some basic words ("Nam" means Yes, "La" is No, "Salaam," like "Shalom" in Hebrew, means Hello). I really do wish I had a shekel for every time I had to say "La" today. I guess pulling my hair and untying (and then trying to eat) my shoelaces are appealing activities. My response? La!
Despite the craziness and being completely physically and emotionally draining, the children are absolutely adorable. They only want to be picked up, held and loved. Most are content to sit in my lap simply because it means they aren't sitting by themselves. Their favorite part of the day? Yogurt! Aboba hands each of us a yogurt or pudding container and a spoon, and the children come running at us, mouths open. The smart ones make rounds: they get a spoonful from one of us (everything in the gan is communal: yogurt, utensils, juice cups, etc) and then come running to someone else. This continues until the containers have been wiped clean of any and all remaining yogurt. Then, of course, cleaning up twelve faces full of sticky pudding (none of whom actually want to be cleaned) is a challenge. It's in these moments that I'm glad the gan is essentially confined to a single room; they can't go very far.
In addition to playing with the children all day, we are also responsible for spackling and repainting the backyard of the gan. It's three walls, which currently sport chipping paint and cracked concrete, a mess of dirty lawn furniture and a clothesline for Aboba's laundry. After purchasing more spackle and building materials (at Home Center, of course!) we are ready to begin our gan improvement project. I love the smell of primer in the morning (especially when it's cold enough outside for a winter coat, gloves and a scarf... in ISRAEL!)
Tomorrow is another long, tiring day with the kiddies! That's all for now - more soon!
Love and La!
Elana
Children in the gan range in age from 6 months to about 5 or 6 years old. They all speak Arabic (as does Aboba, the woman who runs the gan, which is also her home) and two or three of them speak elementary Hebrew (about as much as I do). They love to color, but then crayons end up in their mouths or up their noses, and the few dolls and toys they do have can become the sources of arguments, hitting, crying and overall frustration. Luckily, there is a television in the gan; from 9am to 3pm, endless cartoons in Arabic entertain children who aren't otherwise occupied (they would rather make a jungle gym out of me or the other volunteers, run around in the park, or try to bite my painted fingernails which apparently look like candy). I must say, watching Spongebob in Arabic is an experience; Squidward's accent is about as convincing as mine.
Since most of the children only speak and understand Arabic, I decided to learn some basic words ("Nam" means Yes, "La" is No, "Salaam," like "Shalom" in Hebrew, means Hello). I really do wish I had a shekel for every time I had to say "La" today. I guess pulling my hair and untying (and then trying to eat) my shoelaces are appealing activities. My response? La!
Despite the craziness and being completely physically and emotionally draining, the children are absolutely adorable. They only want to be picked up, held and loved. Most are content to sit in my lap simply because it means they aren't sitting by themselves. Their favorite part of the day? Yogurt! Aboba hands each of us a yogurt or pudding container and a spoon, and the children come running at us, mouths open. The smart ones make rounds: they get a spoonful from one of us (everything in the gan is communal: yogurt, utensils, juice cups, etc) and then come running to someone else. This continues until the containers have been wiped clean of any and all remaining yogurt. Then, of course, cleaning up twelve faces full of sticky pudding (none of whom actually want to be cleaned) is a challenge. It's in these moments that I'm glad the gan is essentially confined to a single room; they can't go very far.
In addition to playing with the children all day, we are also responsible for spackling and repainting the backyard of the gan. It's three walls, which currently sport chipping paint and cracked concrete, a mess of dirty lawn furniture and a clothesline for Aboba's laundry. After purchasing more spackle and building materials (at Home Center, of course!) we are ready to begin our gan improvement project. I love the smell of primer in the morning (especially when it's cold enough outside for a winter coat, gloves and a scarf... in ISRAEL!)
Tomorrow is another long, tiring day with the kiddies! That's all for now - more soon!
Love and La!
Elana
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Hello from Arad!
Hello everyone and welcome to part two of my adventure! Sorry it's taken me so long to update all of you, but this is why:
Last Monday, we spent an overnight in a Bedouin guest tent near Arad. While the hospitality was fun (great food and lots of games of Banana Grams) there are two words to best describe my Bedouin tent experience: dust and camels. The first was responsible for me looking like Pig Pen from Charlie Brown, the second was good for two things: me smelling like, well, a camel, and later, me having to wipe myself down with Purell because the camel behind the one I was riding decided I looked like a Kleenex and sneezed all over my leg. As they say in Israel, labriut gamal (labriut is like "bless you" and gamal is a camel). I must say, riding a camel is significantly more difficult and less glamorous than it looks (if it even looks that fabulous in the first place...) Despite being VERY high above the ground, you feel every lump, bump and rock on the trail (I can't say road... it wasn't a road) and then the camel generally decides to spit, sneeze or display other bodily functions while you are on board. Ew. Furthermore, their teeth are abominable. A dental hygienist's right arm would probably fall off after doing one camel's lowers. Yes, they are that awful.
After a morning of camel riding, we hiked an "easy" trail (the Israeli idea of easy hiking and my idea of easy hiking are clearly two very different ideas) in the Negev. From the top, it's easy to see a long stretch of paved, black road roaming through endless mountains made entirely of reddish brown rock and sand. It could be something out of Aladdin if it weren't for something so modern (the tar road and the caravan of tour buses riding along it) right in the middle of an otherwise empty desert. I found myself thinking, "There is no way I can live here." As it turns out, I was wrong... keep reading!
Then came the worst part: saying goodbye to our tsofim and my friends headed to kibbutz. People who choose to spend our semester in Arad on kibbutz don't leave the kibbutz and don't see the rest of us until we move to Jerusalem in the spring. Being without them has been strange, to say the least, but I'm sure they are loving their new surroundings.
Speaking of new surroundings... I am now a resident of Arad! On Wednesday, we were given time to go apartment shopping. After buying some home essentials (yes, a trip to Home Center - I'm so excited there's one in Arad! - was necessary) I ventured, with one of my new roommates, to the Mega Bool. Mega Bool is where God would shop for groceries. Here's what's incredible about the Megal Bool: it's not actually in Arad, so the store sends a shuttle to your apartment to pick you up (free of charge), waits for you to shop, and then takes you and your purchases back to your front door (and, in our case, they send up a Mega Bool guy to the 7th floor with four crates of groceries). That, and the store itself is gorgeous; it completely puts the Douche to shame. I will not miss having my legs rammed into by dual shopping carts a la Super Douche. I am now beginning to remember that food shopping should be a pain-free experience (not that Shop Rite in New Jersey is such an example of civilized grocery shopping).
Another remarkable thing about the Mega, and Arad in general: everyone here is so NICE. Coming from Bat Yam, where I had to race taxi cabs to the crosswalk, hoping the driver would let me get across the street in one piece (and then would scream at me while I had the green light to walk), this is a very bizarre yet welcome change. In Bat Yam and Tel Aviv, "nice" is simply not done. Angry, frustrated, rushed and inconsiderate? Everyone seems very well-versed in those. But here, things are different. My neighbors don't scream at me, they talk and joke and ask us where we're from and why we're here (and when we tell them, they don't proceed to say, "Why? This place is awful!") One of my favorite members of my new neighborhood? A guy who looks about 90 and wears a sailing hat everywhere. I've been here for nearly a week and I have yet to see him without it. I'd love to know where he keeps his boat (or where he thinks his boat is); the closest body of water to Arad is the Dead Sea and I highly doubt that its sailing conditions are any good. Another one of my neighbors, Yaakov, heard my friends and me speaking English while walking home. He stopped us and asked where we are from, and when he heard New Jersey, he told us that he is originally from Elizabeth but he moved to Arad 23 years ago (he's about 80). He then proceeded to ask us who we know who lives in Elizabeth and he tried to figure out if the names were familiar. In Bat Yam, I can almost promise you this would never happen.
It's certainly been a dramatic change (it feels like I left New York City for Montana), exchanging the city for the desert and kitties for camels, but it will start to feel like home eventually. I've been making lots of latkes, hiking Shvil Yisrael (the Israel Trail - it goes through the all of Israel and takes almost 2 years to hike in its entirety. A portion of the trail is right behind my apartment, in the hills of the desert) and meeting (and adjusting to) members of my new community. It hasn't been easy, but I know it will be fun, and by the time I've embraced Arad as my home, just as in Bat Yam, it will be time to leave again. Funny how that works, isn't it?
Happy Hanukkah from the Land of Miracles!
Lots of love,
Elana
Last Monday, we spent an overnight in a Bedouin guest tent near Arad. While the hospitality was fun (great food and lots of games of Banana Grams) there are two words to best describe my Bedouin tent experience: dust and camels. The first was responsible for me looking like Pig Pen from Charlie Brown, the second was good for two things: me smelling like, well, a camel, and later, me having to wipe myself down with Purell because the camel behind the one I was riding decided I looked like a Kleenex and sneezed all over my leg. As they say in Israel, labriut gamal (labriut is like "bless you" and gamal is a camel). I must say, riding a camel is significantly more difficult and less glamorous than it looks (if it even looks that fabulous in the first place...) Despite being VERY high above the ground, you feel every lump, bump and rock on the trail (I can't say road... it wasn't a road) and then the camel generally decides to spit, sneeze or display other bodily functions while you are on board. Ew. Furthermore, their teeth are abominable. A dental hygienist's right arm would probably fall off after doing one camel's lowers. Yes, they are that awful.
After a morning of camel riding, we hiked an "easy" trail (the Israeli idea of easy hiking and my idea of easy hiking are clearly two very different ideas) in the Negev. From the top, it's easy to see a long stretch of paved, black road roaming through endless mountains made entirely of reddish brown rock and sand. It could be something out of Aladdin if it weren't for something so modern (the tar road and the caravan of tour buses riding along it) right in the middle of an otherwise empty desert. I found myself thinking, "There is no way I can live here." As it turns out, I was wrong... keep reading!
Then came the worst part: saying goodbye to our tsofim and my friends headed to kibbutz. People who choose to spend our semester in Arad on kibbutz don't leave the kibbutz and don't see the rest of us until we move to Jerusalem in the spring. Being without them has been strange, to say the least, but I'm sure they are loving their new surroundings.
Speaking of new surroundings... I am now a resident of Arad! On Wednesday, we were given time to go apartment shopping. After buying some home essentials (yes, a trip to Home Center - I'm so excited there's one in Arad! - was necessary) I ventured, with one of my new roommates, to the Mega Bool. Mega Bool is where God would shop for groceries. Here's what's incredible about the Megal Bool: it's not actually in Arad, so the store sends a shuttle to your apartment to pick you up (free of charge), waits for you to shop, and then takes you and your purchases back to your front door (and, in our case, they send up a Mega Bool guy to the 7th floor with four crates of groceries). That, and the store itself is gorgeous; it completely puts the Douche to shame. I will not miss having my legs rammed into by dual shopping carts a la Super Douche. I am now beginning to remember that food shopping should be a pain-free experience (not that Shop Rite in New Jersey is such an example of civilized grocery shopping).
Another remarkable thing about the Mega, and Arad in general: everyone here is so NICE. Coming from Bat Yam, where I had to race taxi cabs to the crosswalk, hoping the driver would let me get across the street in one piece (and then would scream at me while I had the green light to walk), this is a very bizarre yet welcome change. In Bat Yam and Tel Aviv, "nice" is simply not done. Angry, frustrated, rushed and inconsiderate? Everyone seems very well-versed in those. But here, things are different. My neighbors don't scream at me, they talk and joke and ask us where we're from and why we're here (and when we tell them, they don't proceed to say, "Why? This place is awful!") One of my favorite members of my new neighborhood? A guy who looks about 90 and wears a sailing hat everywhere. I've been here for nearly a week and I have yet to see him without it. I'd love to know where he keeps his boat (or where he thinks his boat is); the closest body of water to Arad is the Dead Sea and I highly doubt that its sailing conditions are any good. Another one of my neighbors, Yaakov, heard my friends and me speaking English while walking home. He stopped us and asked where we are from, and when he heard New Jersey, he told us that he is originally from Elizabeth but he moved to Arad 23 years ago (he's about 80). He then proceeded to ask us who we know who lives in Elizabeth and he tried to figure out if the names were familiar. In Bat Yam, I can almost promise you this would never happen.
It's certainly been a dramatic change (it feels like I left New York City for Montana), exchanging the city for the desert and kitties for camels, but it will start to feel like home eventually. I've been making lots of latkes, hiking Shvil Yisrael (the Israel Trail - it goes through the all of Israel and takes almost 2 years to hike in its entirety. A portion of the trail is right behind my apartment, in the hills of the desert) and meeting (and adjusting to) members of my new community. It hasn't been easy, but I know it will be fun, and by the time I've embraced Arad as my home, just as in Bat Yam, it will be time to leave again. Funny how that works, isn't it?
Happy Hanukkah from the Land of Miracles!
Lots of love,
Elana
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