To the apartment

 

Tuesday:

I woke up early, hoping to break the habit of sleeping past everyone else in the house. Between the daily sounds of sheep and cows I also heard what sounded like a marching band or parade. At first, I thought it was a recording being played over an intercom, but I was later corrected that it was the local schools celebrating Chanukah. When we drove around the Moshav on our way to the bus stop, children were dressed in costume- perhaps for a school play. Around the surrounding shopping areas one could see a seven-foot menorah ready for the holiday lighting. Unlike America, where Christmas and holidays explode out of the seams of every shop, home, and public area, Chanukah modestly shows it’s presence here. It is another night of family, candlelight, and food.

We arrived at the bus stop, and waited for bus 826 – a number I will very familiar with by the end of my stay in Israel, as it is the one bus that goes from the moshav to tel aviv. The bus was comfortable, like a grey hound from home. Yardena sweetly pointed out all of the interesting places along the way. An hour and a half later we arrived in Tel Aviv. My adventure there at night did not give the towering buildings and the bustling streets of the city justice. The difference between Tel Aviv and Sede Yaakov (the moshav) is comparable to the difference between the Connecticut country and New York City. One place you raise a family and the other you meet all kinds of walks of life. I am so happy to have a quiet place to retreat to each Shabbat, away from such over stimulation.

After the bus we took a taxi to Bnei Brak, where my new apartment is. My future roommate, Ayelet (ah-yell-et) is a sweet Canadian and studying at the university. She was not able to meet, but my landlord, Yossi, was waiting for us. The building was concrete and maybe only three levels high. The bottom level was shared between the entrance to the apartments and a falafel shop. Yossi, a religious man, but not quite a black-hatter, had a keepa that nearly covered his head. We said hello, and Yardena leaned over and whispered that he is the type of religious man who does NOT shake hands with women. Although I knew there were such men, and that the chances of meeting one were very high in Bnei Brak ( a notoriously religious area), I was startled and for the rest of the apartment visit. I was scared to be within a foot of him. This was a rather large feat because the apartment itself was maybe 20x20. Despite it’s very small space, the apartment would be fine for the short time I planned to stay. Yossi then led us to the place where we would sign the contract. Nothing like partaking in a legal transaction that is entirely in another language to get your gears going! Without fail, however, Yardena was my savior. I could tell by the tone of her voice, as she furious spoke Hebrew to these men, that she was protective of me. After a lot of talking, some translating, and dispute about paying in dollars versus shekel we finished.

Still on the move, Yardena and I took a taxi to Bar-ilan to meet a woman, Judy, who works at the president’s office. The campus was massive and beautiful. Students were everywhere, some spoke English and others Hebrew. Cafes, restaurants comparable to panera were scattered at the entrance. We ate, waiting to meet Judy. When she finally arrived we sat down to speak over some details. It was mainly a social visit. I learned about her British background and how she came to live in Israel, with a husband who can’t stand the place! I had hoped to meet with the professor I would be researching with, but his curt emails and finalized schedule made it impossible.

After our meeting we decided to make the journey home, a 10 minute cab, two hour bus ride, and 15 minute car ride finally got us back to light the first candles for Chanukah with Orly, Shookie, Yardena, and I.