A Third Week “LeHeetaclem” (to acclimatize)

Middle East » Israel » Jerusalem District » Jerusalem
August 14th 2011

Published: August 22nd 2011

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Rosiesexcellentadventure

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who wins the largest shades in Jerusalem contest?

Sunday August 14th we met with our friend Rahel Halabe (currently of Vancouver) in her childhood neighbourhood of Nahla’ot, which is next to the Mahaneh Yehuda Market. Nahla’ot is one of “new” Jerusalem’s oldest neighbourhoods which dates back to the 1880s. It’s a maze of narrow twisting alleyways in which one’s sense of direction is quickly lost. Rahel’s description of Nahla’ot’s history was fascinating to Aimee and I. To the boys, not so much. We finished off with lunch at “Steakiat Hatsot” (Midnight Steakhouse), which is famous for “Meurav Yerushalmi” (Jerusalem mixed grill) … comprised of grilled turkey, chicken hearts and chicken spleen. Ezra the carnivore was thrilled, but disappointed that the mixed grill did not include brains and lungs. Seriously. Aimee and I, being of a more delicate constitution stuck with the turkey, which was likewise grilled to tasty perfection. Adin was a good sport and even tried a tiny morsel of spleen, with predictable results. I recommend Steakiat Hatsot to all meat eaters who love authenticity. This is a no-frills place with understated décor comprised of walls covered with signed and framed photos of famous Israelis, none of whom we knew. One could say that Steakiat Hatsot is old-time

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looking into 128 year old Syrian synagogue

Jerusalem’s version of Sardi’s restaurant. It’s not on the tourist map, but well known to Israeli’s who prefer the real-deal to the glitz of Israel’s many new shopping areas that all look too much like Vancouver’s Robson Street.

Monday, August 15th, I had my first encounter with Israeli bureaucracy, with surprisingly positive results. We needed to register the boys with the city’s education department located in the vast city hall complex downtown. Not wanting to walk into city hall completely clueless, I had earlier found the city’s website which contained an email link to the education department. Amazingly, someone wrote back with the name of the specific person in city hall responsible for registration in elementary schools – Mrs. Levana Nissim - along with her email address and phone number. This seemed all too easy. So I emailed Levana Nissim in English (typing in Hebrew is still too much for me) and asked what we needed to do. …. No response. So I called and spoke in Hebrew to the person who had responded to my original email - Talia Kolodny. Talia was very pleasant and said she’d contact Mrs. Nissim right away. Within an hour someone

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Rahel Halabe's brother's synagogue

else called back who spoke to me in English and said Mrs. Nissim was on the line. Which seemed strange until I realized that the English speaker was translating into Hebrew for Mrs. Nissim who apparently spoke no English. I switched to Hebrew, at which point Mrs. Nissim jumped into the conversation, surprised and very happy to be able to communicate directly with me. She said we didn’t even need to come to city hall. All we needed to do was email copies of all our passports and our rental contract showing that we lived in the neighbourhood, after which she would make all the necessary arrangements with the school. Which we did. Done! Boys registered.

Monday evening we split up and conquered. Aimee took the boys to a puppet performance at the annual international puppet festival at Gan HaPa’amon HaDror (Liberty Bell Park) which is a 10-15 minute walk from us. They all loved it. They saw a Peruvian puppeteer who used his own body parts as part of the puppets. For example, he used his bare knee as the bald head of the puppet.

Aimee here: It was truly spectacular. The illusions this man

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ceiling has stars upon thars (need to be up on your Dr Seuss for this referral)

created using his body are amazing, and he was incredibly entertaining. Here is a youtube link:

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At the same time as Aimee and the boys were enjoying the show, I attended my first Ulpan class in the centre of town. Since I joined the class midterm it was a little challenging. Made additionally challenging by the fact that the class was heavily grammar based and I am part of the lost generation which did not learn grammar in our native language. Still, the teacher is excellent and the class seems a good fit for me. Two evenings a week through to mid-October.

Tuesday, “Hot” (pronounced “hoe-ttt”), the local version of Shaw, came and hooked up our wifi internet connection, cable TV, and the land-line for our phone. So far we’ve figured out only the land-line … We’re still piggy-backing on the wifi internet connection of a downstairs neighbour, and we can only access one station on the TV. A week later we’re still waiting for our landlord to come explain to us how it all works.

In the afternoon the boys had their first session with their Hebrew tutor, Michal. Ezra

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do they serve "fishen chips" here?

said it was good. Adin said it was boring. Then Ezra agreed with Adin that it was boring. So, as you can see, a relatively successful first outing. … Not tantrums, or threats never to return.

From the tutoring sessions, we drove to HaGiva HaTsorfateet (French Hill) located at the far corner of town for supper with Rubins. We sat outside on a beautiful terrace from which we could see all the way down to the Dead Sea, which is the lowest point on the planet. The boys quickly wolfed down supper. Which means that, as usual, Ezra ate a large portion of everything – the spicier the better - and Adin ate, well, nothing. Ilan Rubin then took the boys into the living room where he taught then “shaish baish” (backgammon) and they had a marathon series of shaish baish games on the floor.

Wednesday morning, August 17th, I set out to tackle Israeli bureaucracy again. This time to apply to extend our visas from the three months we received at the airport to the full year, and to apply for a work permit so I can work legally at the bakery. Hoping

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we are defintely not in Kansas.

to circumvent at least some of the bureaucracy I tried again to do some of the preliminaries by email the day before. Unfortunately I couldn’t find an email address at the Misrad HaPnim (Interior Ministry) that looked promising, and the email I sent when unanswered. I did speak to someone at the Ministry, though, and explained exactly what I needed. The person told me to come any day of the week except for Shabbat to the Ministry branch in the centre of the city on #1 Shlomtsion HaMalka Street between 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m.

I figured I’d get an early start so I walked over to the address, arriving at 8:00 a.m. I sensed trouble as I approached the building. #1 Shlomtsion HaMalka is a completely non-descript Kafkaesque building that one could pass by without noticing if one were not specifically looking for it. Even then it would be hard to identify - the small sign above the entrance is faded with time and grit. The sign, if one squinted hard enough also had office hours, which include everyday of the week except Shabbat. But there was a second handwritten sign on the door which said

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Rahel shows us her childhood 'hood.

that the office was closed Wednesdays in the morning. The door was unlocked, however, so I went in and spoke to the clerks at the reception counter. They said the office is completely closed every Wednesday morning and, although some departments are open in the afternoon, the visa office is not one of them. When I explained that I spoke to someone at the Ministry the day before who told me the visa office was open everyday, they replied that they can’t explain why anyone would give me that information, and that the information does not change the fact that the office is closed now, and is always closed on Wednesdays. So there was nothing to do but turn around and walk home … defeated. Throughout my time at the Ministry there was a steady stream of people arriving with the expectation that the offices were open. Perhaps they had spoken to the same person on the phone.

Later in the morning we packed up to join the Sandler family on the beach in Ashdod, which is located on the Mediterranean Sea between Tel Aviv to the north and the Gaza strip to the south. Now that

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These chicken hearts are the best!

Jerusalem temperatures had dropped to the low 30s C, we headed to a place where the temperatures were above 40. The boys had a great time playing in the water with the friends. However, the area patrolled by the lifeguards was a narrow strip of beach around 25 meters wide, and the water, which was very warm, stayed shallow a fair distance from shore. The waves were quite large and there were signs to either side of the patrolled strip saying in Hebrew, “It is forbidden to swim due to danger of drowning.” And anyone who strayed out of the patrolled zone, was immediately reprimanded by a lifeguard over the loud-speaker system. And the lifeguard gave a detailed description of each person he reprimanded so everyone within several hundred meters would know exactly who is was singling out for humiliation. All of which is not especially conducive to actual swimming. So I lay down in a sun-tent we had set-up and tried to catch up on my sleep. A rather difficult thing to do with 8 wet and sand-cover kids running in and out of the tent and, in Adin’s case, sitting on my chest.

So …

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how many points do I get for eating spleen?

I needed something to salvage my day, which turned out to be a yoga class I attended back in Jerusalem recommended by an old friend of Aimee’s. I, in turn, recommended the instructor to Aimee who then joined another of his classes on Friday morning.

Fortified by the calming affects of my yoga class, I returned to the Misrad HaPnim Thursday morning at 8:00 a.m., this time to be greeted by a long line down the street. I guess this is why the office can get away without being prominently marked. By the time I reached the entrance a half hour later there was an equally long line that had formed behind me. Once I arrived at the intake counter I was given an appointment for 11:00 a.m. – on September 11th. It just occurred to me that my appointment’s on 9-11. Hmmmm. I wonder what that says about my prospects. In any event, in addition to giving me the 9-11 appointment the clerk gave my a long list of things to bring, including my marriage certificate. Now why didn’t I think to bring that to Israel? After all, I’ve been asked to produce it so frequently

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Hmmm. Will it be a heart or a spleen?

in the 11 years of marriage. Fortunately, however, the Rabbi who married us (Rabbi Yossi Benarroch) lives here in Israel and will give me a letter confirming the details of the wedding and, in particular, that it was a kosher Jewish wedding.

The rest of Thursday followed our emerging routine with the boys going to their tutor with Aimee, while I attended Ulpan, before going to the bakery for the graveyard shift. Aimee reports that after the tutoring sessions Adin again said that it was boring. But Ezra interjected that it was “Kef” (fun), and Adin then quickly chimed in that it actually was Kef. A positive sign. While Ezra was in with the tutor, Aimee took Adin to meet with a “famous” violinist, Michael Greilsammer, who came highly recommended as a teacher and is, as it turns out, highly expensive – around double the going rate. Adin insists that he is the only teacher for him, which seems to have a lot to do with the fact that the “famous” violinist is very very cool and has a large portrait of himself – dreadlocks and all - and his band hanging on the living room wall.

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"Jerusalem Mixed Grill"

Michael has a website at … http://www.michaelgreilsammer.com/ Anyway, we’ll see how this one pans out. Michael said he’ll talk to his “manager” about lowering his usual rate. Did I mention that Michael mentioned that he’s “famous”?

The bakery … I’m now up to braiding more than 300 of the 1000 Challot produced by the bakery. In the morning the co-owner Shoshana said I’ll be managing the night shift before long. Which, I should say, is not something I aspire to.

Friday morning, August 20th, after my two hour nap, Aimee and I walked, while the boys scootered, to “Mamila” where we met up for coffee with Micky Hadar, the Shaliach from my days in Habonim back in the 70s. Habonim is a Zionist youth movement. A Shaliah is an Israeli - who can be affiliated with a wide range of organizations - sent by that organization to work with its branches outside of Israel. Mamila is a toney shopping strip next to the Jaffa Gate of the Old City of Jerusalem. The boys enjoyed the visit because Micky treated them to ice-cream sundaes, and we then let them buy some junk – kindereggs (don’t

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Thank God for hotdogs and fries - with vinager!

ask) - with money they had earned doing chores throughout the week. Aimee had a nice conversation about the art scene in Israel with Micky’s common-law Yael, who is an accomplished artist living on Kibbutz Shamir in the far north of Israel. Yael also invited us to stay with her anytime we’re in the area, which we’ll definitely take her up on. I brought Micky up to date as best I could on people he knew from his two-year stay in Vancouver.

We then cabbed back home and packed up for Shabbat in the town of Efrat (officially called “Efrata”) which is about a half hour south of Jerusalem located between Bethlehem and Hebron. Aimee, I and Rosie had a peaceful Shabbat with the Benarroch family, including the four of their kids still at home (ages 14 to 21), while the boys spent Shabbat gorging themselves with candy, cookies, and other treats at the Sandlers. Everyone got what they needed except, in the case of the boys, sleep. Efrat is long and narrow, and the Benarroshs and Sandlers live at opposite ends of the town. In fact the two ends of town feel very much like two

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Adin throws pefect spiral whle waiting for tutor

different towns. The Benarrochs live at the south end of town, which was founded over 30 years ago and feels well-settled with older houses and lots of greenery. Also very few little kids. The Sandlers live at the north end of time which is recently built with more apartment buildings, not much greenery, but tons of young families and little kids, and pretty much only English spoken in the homes and streets. Which makes the north end of town highly attractive to our boys. Late Saturday afternoon Aimee, I, and Rosie walked the 45 minutes from north to south to hang out with the Sandlers and our kids. Clearly, Ezra and Adin had not missed us, and would have been very happy to stay on permanently in north Efrat.

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