Done with Tel Aviv. The kind of city I don't like much. But Lyera and I are much divided on this.
Just a refresher: Lyera (Valeria (my dear friend and travel partner)) is taking a course that starts a week later than mine, and she can't check in to the student dorms early. But she flew in with me anyway partly for my sake -- I've never travelled alone before and, if you recall, I have a fear of travelling -- and partly for her own, since she was looking forward to spending a week in the much more commercial city of Tel Aviv. Which also has a beach. A very, very nice beach. On the Mediterranean.
So where we left her was hurrying onto the sherut from the student village, with a bus driver honking at her, while I watched. What happened to her between then and now, you ask?
Well, I wish I could give you more anecdotes, but she says she's saving that for her own post! (No doubt she'll also correct my errors.) But here's the basic reconstructed plot.
"The bus driver was shouting at me," she said. "He was saying, 'HURRY UP! GET ON! I HAVE PEOPLE TO PICK UP!' " He was obviously a good apprentice of the lady we talked to on the phone. She then got a tour of Jerusalem's residential areas, since the sherut picks up a lot of people from a lot of places and then drops them all off at a lot of places.
At one flat-faced little building a big bunch of Orthodox Jews stormed on, their wives -- almost all pregnant -- seeing them off. One of them had to sit in the same row of seats as Lyera; he went to the opposite seat and scrunched himself up in the corner, as far away from her as physically possible.
Quite a long time later, she ended up at Ben Gurion airport, exhausted from having been up for about a full day. The taxi drivers didn't want to take her as a fare because the apartment she was staying at was too close to be worthwhile, but between her tiredness and still having her suitcase with her, she wasn't going to walk. Finally someone agreed to take her for 100 shekels -- a price that, considering the circumstances, she couldn't refuse.
When she got to the apartment (whose cost, by the by, we are splitting since it's half on my account that she came a week early), she unpacked what she immediately needed and collapsed on her bed.
In the morning -- for she miraculously woke up when she should have for this timezone -- she evaluated her surroundings. She has two single beds (somewhat squished together), a private washroom with a shower just big enough to stand in (but not pirouette), a sink, a microwave, and a wardrobe. Oh, and a kettle filled with calcium bits. Still, it was home.
She ventured out into the city. Her apartment building is right by the seashore, so that took care of one direction. The rest she would have to do systematically, so she asked for a map and set out on foot. Bit by bit the surrounding streets were discovered; they were almost all commercial, since it seemed to be more or less downtown. (There were several travel agencies, too, including the hateful El Al, and a delightful one that apparently exists solely for travel to her home country of Moldova.)
She stumbled on a shuuk (outdoor market), which was, to her luck, open only Tuesday and Friday. It had two main sections: suspiciously cheap imported and imitation goods, and handmade crafts. Some nearby food stores were also taking advantage of the massive human traffic in the place. It was there she got a bracelet by Michal Negrin. (Yep, many of the artists there have their own websites, and they all give you their card.)
She also got some flip-flops by a brand called "Zamsh", which prints on the soles something along the lines of "I can't imagine this world without you. You will always be my Zamsh." Near the shuuk there was also a sign expressing the reciprocal: "I will always be your burger." Apparently monogamy is cooler here than in the West!
That reminds me. "Everyone here is pregnant," reports Lyera. "Most of the women you see on the street are pregnant." I think it might decrease the closer you get to the beach, though.
She says she had some non-memorable meals and then that was it for the day. I should mention, though, an excellent economy on her part, which is that since the restaurants here all give huge portions she asks to take half of it home. For the very affordable cost of a slight embarrassment, that's lunch tomorrow too. (In Tel Aviv it's not worth cooking for one.)
Wednesday she dedicated to the beach. What else can I say? The water is warm and very salty, the sand is hot and plentiful, the umbrella and beach chair are about $5, the shore is littered with cigarettes, major Western hotels, and foot-washing stations (which the young children just stand under). Also, a lifeguard service calls out to you in Hebrew and then English if you go out of the safe zone: "Get back here! Get back here or I will tell your mommy and daddy!" It's a beautiful beach.
"I've had these sandals since Canada and I only just now noticed," she says, looking the sole of one of her Michael Kors sandals. "They put this here to stamp 'Michael Kors' all over the beach!"
Another non-memorable meal, she says, and then she walked along the promenade by the beach. There was a smoothie place (of which there are pictures to come) that just tosses fruit in a blender and blends it for you. Kind of like a down-to-earth Booster Juice. There was also a middle-aged man she walked with who had taught in Toronto for seven years, and who, after what had seemed like a polite and friendly conversation, as much as asked her out!
She also observed, and I have seen it borne out several times already, that everyone here can tell she's a Russian and not a North American, before she even opens her mouth. It's still a mystery how.
On Thursday morning she visited three cultural establishments: an art museum she can't seem to remember the name of (but all Tel Aviv art is art nouveau anyway), the Bialik House, and the Rubin Museum. Then she returned home.
This is where our stories converge.
On Thursday morning, I woke up at about 8:35, only five minutes after my class started! So I leaped out of bed and skipped breakfast and hygiene. I did stop to say goodbye to my roommates L., M., and C., though, since they were leaving for good. (I was so disoriented I at first introduced myself to either L or M.)
"One last piece of advice?" I said. "Everything they tell you about safety on the streets -- is it true or exaggerated?"
"Exaggerated," said either L or M. "All of it."
But at one point I had an experience similar to Lyera's. The bus stopped and a procession of three types of people climbed on: savvy-looking, casually clothed people in sunglasses; Orthodox Jews (one on a cell phone); and some uniformed men and women. I took these as representing modern Israel's three basic types: high-class imitators of the advanced West, strict adherents to a religion that can't help adapting to technology, and those proud and zealous for Israel's achievements as a nation. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that pretty much covers it so far.
At the CBS there was a metal detector (that reminds me, they have them at the university too), but the guy manning them was pretty lax. They also had a washroom that cost a shekel to use, and needless to say it was nevertheless the worst I've seen yet in Israel. From there I took a bus, more like the GO buses, to Tel Aviv, where I overpaid for a taxi because I didn't have a map and naively believed the driver that the address I gave him was a long way away.
It was a kind of funny trip, though. A Mexican named Manuel was sitting in the front seat and the only conversation he could make was about how beautiful Israeli girls are. Between his comments on his ambivalent preference for butt size, his claims to have fallen in love dozens of times since arriving here, and his reedy laughter, the taxi driver kept turning the radio louder. He was playing English music, mostly country and rock classics, and singing along. "I love this music! I love this song! Best ever," he kept saying. So unfortunately for the two men trying to impress the other, they were on different wavelengths. Finally, though, the driver let slip that he was into Russian girls, of which he said Israeli has two million. Maybe this is the reason people keep coming on to Lyera??
Speaking of her, she met me at the apartment that evening. I was not in a good mood, partially because of the travel, heat, and jet lag, and I'm afraid I was pretty unpleasant company the rest of the night. But she had picked out a Czech restaurant, which we walked to and got some goose at. Neither of us was very hungry, and the meal was somewhat disappointing, so we packed it up to go. (I was learning fast.)
It was very good to see Lyera again, though, especially after having had
no familiar faces in Israel this last week. She was smiley as always.
It was apparently some kind of Nuit Blanche in Tel Aviv, so we looked up some events nearby and settled on several to go to, then narrowed it down to just a few, then to just one, as we realized the distance between them. We walked along the promenade to reach a performance by the Israeli Philharmonic Orchestra, and though we passed a couple of marinas that looked like possible ports, it always seemed to get farther and farther away. When someone told us that it was much farther yet, we gave up, turned back, and bought smoothies.
Exhausted, we went to sleep on our beds. (For those of you suddenly concerned about this arrangement, never fear, we have a sense of propriety, she and I!) As Caspian had warned her, I do snore, especially with my stuffy nose. Luckily Lyera had packed some nasal spray (she calls it "nose mist") which is supposed to help with that. We forgot to do it at first, so just before I drifted off to sleep she declared, "I forgot! I wanted to put things up your nose."
The other reason I was unhappy coming into Tel Aviv was that at first it was disappointing. There's pretty much nothing there that you can't find in Toronto (besides a thousand varieties of palm tree) -- narrow streets crowded with shops, too much pedestrian and vehicle traffic, bad smells, dirt. I guess it's like any big city, that you're supposed to get used to it and then love it for the same reasons you once hated it. But I haven't gotten used to any big cities yet.
Their traffic was kind of interesting, though. For one thing, the crosswalks of most major streets are divided in two, and the signals to go or stop are rarely in sync, which leaves crowds of people stranded on little platforms in the middle of the street. Can't imagine why they do this. Meanwhile, on their traffic lights they have yellow not only before red but also after it. Possibly to tell people that they can start edging forward in anxious excitement??
The next day was infinitely better. We woke up and planned some activities. I wanted to visit the Museum of the Jewish People, and Lyera wanted to go on the much less frequently offered Bauhaus architectural tour, so after some fruitless attempts to coordinate both we decided to go to Bauhaus. We got out the door on time, but a certain person forgot the direction one has to turn on the way there, so after we walked a long way we realized we were too far away to make the tour on time. We walked to the advertised location anyway, and when we got there a man at the desk said that the tour doesn't even have anything to do with that location but begins somewhere else!
We took a taxi -- with the most honest taxi driver we've had yet -- to the Museum of the Jewish People on the very nice Tel Aviv University campus. It was quite a good place, with a guided audio tour, and we both enjoyed ourselves immensely. I can only urge you to look it up, though. I took some pictures, which was apparently allowed, and will put them up later. They played some a capella Jewish hymns on the audio tour, which were very moving.
We followed this by visiting the shuuk. It was pretty cool; a lot of jostling, a lot of jewellery, a lot of jerks, but overall delightful. Lyera and I bought a couple of things there, but I can't tell you what they were lest I spoil a gift or two. However, I will tell you that we're really glad we held out past the imported and imitation crap!
It was a little more organized than I expected. For example, prices were fixed. I'm looking forward to one of the bigger shuuks in the centre of Jerusalem, one of the crazier ones...!
After that we went to the beach. It was quite a rough day on the water, despite the calmness of the sky and wind, and we were pummelled by many large waves, which Lyera enjoyed less than I did and so we went back to the shore for a while. But we went back in and swam again, insofar as we could, and we both enjoyed ourselves immensely. Lyera collected some seashells, since she had noticed how few were lying on the beaches. (Most of the description of the beach above is taken from this trip.)
Finally we went out for dinner. We had marked out three restaurants, but as we walked to them we realized things were already shutting down for the Sabbath, for it was Friday night. Luckily for us, the third one was open, probably because it was a tourist-y place, and it was packed. We sat down for the meal and it was quite good. I won't bore you by describing it in too much detail, but I will say that my first try of schnitzel -- one of Israel's two or three favourite dishes -- was good. Just enough, I should add, to make me want to try a street corner one, which is likely to be five times better. Lyera had some catfish that she loved, and we got garlic bread that was awful. Nevertheless, we packed up half of it for the next meal and left.
It was a fantastic day. It's the first day that has really felt like a "vacation", one without time limits or schedules or obligations. Probably one of the last I'll have here, too.
That night we looked up my bus departure time. We realized that no buses leave on the Sabbath, which ends at sundown. So I was stuck in Tel Aviv for another day. Heck, I wasn't complaining.
We slept again, and apparently my snoring was worse that night. Poor Lyera. Also, overheard while walking down one of the halls in the apartment: "That's why I'm saying! -- You should wear underwear." Yes, yes you should.
All in all, Tel Aviv was better than I expected and I'm glad I went. It was a good break between the first week -- which was hectic because of settling in and arranging everything -- and the rest, which will feature over 20 hours of class a week.
The next day was less eventful and bears little mention. We woke up late and lounged around the room for a while, we ate our leftovers, we dealt with email (and I wrote most of this blog post), we went to the beach and built a sand-cistern that the waves destroyed, to our dismay; we sunned; I packed, Lyera walked me partway to the bus stop, I left. On the way back Lyera got temporarily lost by a very reasonable error, and I lost some olives I had bought at the shuuk by a very stupid mistake.
Today Lyera is still in Tel Aviv, because she can only check in here tomorrow (and her first class is on Tuesday). I had class again -- we learned about construct state, which you use to convey "of", and all the personal pronouns and possessives -- and best of all, my package from El Al arrived. (Some of the items had laundry detergent on them, which proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that they had opened the jar and spilled it before it ever got on the plane!) So my phone is charged and I can once again use it freely.
This afternoon Simon and I went shopping, he investigated Internet service for our apartment, we cooked up some rice and corn, and we cleaned up the apartment a little because the management left us a note saying everyone must clean the public places in anticipation of the new arrivals. (Hardly fair, since we ourselves are practically new arrivals and the people before us didn't really clean.) We're currently waiting for some laundry to finish: all the cloths and towels and stuff that were lying around the apartment, performing various noble functions. I think the one in front of the shower door, that soaks up all the runaway water, deserves the most honour and was most badly in need of washing.
I don't know what Lyera did today, because we haven't really been in contact, but one of us will fill you in on the details in the next few days. Also, there will be two other arrivals in our apartment tomorrow! One of them Simon has identified as "Julia", and the other is tentatively being called "mystery person X". A fitting name.
Oh, that's right, I wanted to jot down some more brief observations before we go collect our laundry:
1: A sign that says "ט - 9 - t". The "9" is a helpful translation of the letter "ט", which has that numerical value in Hebrew (and is indeed being used to mark the number of that lot), but sadly the "t" is not helpful to us English speakers, even though it's a fair translation of the letter! :p
2: If you ever thought the $x.99 pricing (e.g. $14.99 instead of $15) was stupid in North America, where you would hardly expect anyone to be fooled into thinking of it as the lower number, it's much more so in Israel, where they don't even have hundredths of a shekel! They may as well just go on and on -- $x.999999......
3: I forgot one part of the flight here: the movie censoring. I watched a movie whose Hebrew subtitles they censored, removing all references to genitalia and even the mildest swearing. Yet they left in a long joke involving a guy with a Hitler moustache. Oh Israel, what will you think of next?
4: My best meal so far has also been my cheapest: a falafel pita stuffed with vegetables for 14 shekels -- about $4.
5: I saw my first Engrish (bad English) shirt in Tel Aviv. "IT JEALOUS?" it read. "ME TOO"
Okay, that's about all. Simon actually picked up the laundry while I was doing this, because he finished what he wanted to do. So I'd better head back and help him hang it up to dry.
The Middle East is good at nationalities.My mum's become quite proficient.
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