Hof Ha'Carmel - חוף הכרמל

This has been Haifa: walk up a hill, “no,” walk up a hill, “no,” walk down a hill, “no,” walk up another hill, “no”…

Earlier this week, I call a bunch of listings from rental sites, some of which I’d been eyeing for a while, some of which I had already talked with the landlord about. I told the that I’d be in Haifa Wednesday, and would like to see their apartments. They all told me “no problem” and to call one I was in Haifa to set up times to see their places on Wednesday afternoon/evening. Great. But, just as nothing else has gone according to plan here, why should this? So I got to Haifa and called all the landlords. Most said their places were no longer available. A few said to come see their places, only to tell me once I was there that they were taken. So I broadened my search, increased my budget, and made more calls. Nothing. Around midnight, a landlord called me back to say that the guy who had taken it had fallen through, and I could go see it then. At midnight. What about tomorrow? Doesn’t work for him. So at midnight I climbed another hill, got to the apartment and… it was taken. ARGH!!!!! This morning I called a few more places, the only ones I hadn’t yet called (due to their locations and/or price) and saw a couple more. One was so scary I didn’t want to go through the door. The other was nice, but expensive, and the landlords won’t consider anything shorter than a year’s lease, adn despite the ad saying it’s available immediately, they want to rent it for mid-October, October 1 at the earliest.

So now I’m sitting at Hof Ha’Carmel, one of the three train stations in Haifa, waiting to go south. The free wifi at the station might, sadly, be the highlight of this journey. That and the breeze that’s coming off the Mediterranean. With humidity this bad, it’s nice to have a breeze.

I think being in Haifa, doing ulpan here, and working here, through the winter, I’ll have a better chance to learn and use Hebrew than in Jerusalem. But I’m having a hard time not seeing the housing frustration as a sign that I ought to just stay in Jerusalem, do ulpan there, stay where my friends are, and try to find work there instead.

Photo post, the fist

At first, I thought they were limited to Rehavia, the neighbourhood in Jerusalem where I am currently staying. As EKO and I walked around last week, and then as I continued walking further on my own, I realised they were pretty much everywhere. What am I talking about? The neighbourhood paper recycling bins that have been vandalised with homophobic graffiti. Most now display homo=ill, homo=dog, homo=filth. And looking closely at them, it appears that they were all scrawled on by the same marker and hand. On Shabbat, we were talking about these, and decided to start correcting them. I did the first today:
Before:

After:

I’m hoping people will notice that someone’s taken the time to add to the original “homo,” even though the addition may be subtle or unnoticed at first. … And I plan on fixing many more before I leave for Haifa.

Another major feature of any neighbourhood walk through are the stray cats. So. Many. Stray. Cats. Sleeping under cars in the shade, on walls, on dumpsters, in gardens, on benches, under benches…. they’re everywhere. Last weekend, I heard a constant steady cry of a cat, so steady it almost sounded like an alarm. I went out the next morning to look for it, and found a tiny cat. So small, and so still, I thought it was dead. But it’s not! I think it’s the runt of the litter, the only black cat amongst grey siblings. It’s about 15-20cm long, stretched out. And so skinny, I could easily wrap my thumb and index finger around it’s widest point. It spends most of the day and night sleeping, though I did take joy in seeing it’s siblings trying to chase it up a tree yesterday. And s/he got maybe 30cm up before the other two lost interest and scampered off, leaving it to figure out how to get back down on its own.

Folks leave food out for the cats, and buckets of water too, which is nice. And they’ve clearly honed their garbage scavenging skills too. They’re not starving, but they don’t look like healthy house cats either…

On a more cheery note, I noticed a couple days ago that R’chov Ha’Ari (Ha’Ari street) had been relabeled:

Bad ears, bad!

On the bus today, a chasidic man put his hand on my elbow to stop me from passing down the aisle towards the empty seats. He pointed at me, then at his ears, then at me, and said tasur (forbidden)! He was referring to my earrings. I wasn’t in the mood for a debate, nor was I feeling confident in my rudimentary Hebrew, so I just said lo, lo… (no, no…) and walked away. The amazing part was that he actually turned around and sat there slowly shaking his head and glaring at me. Wow.

This isn’t the first time frum/haredi/hasidic men have commented on my earrings. There was the rabbi in Montreal who told me that I really ought to take them out, that clearly I had never studied Torah if I thought it was okay to wear them. There were the men who stopped me at the rest stop along the interstate in NY to question how I could wear a kippah, tzitzit, and have earrings too. (I’ve actually been questioned at rest stops along the I-87 and I-89 on several occasions.) There was the grandfather of an acquaintance who suggested I shouldn’t return to their shul until the earrings were out (his wife tried to disagree, saying that, sure, I was wrong in wearing earrings, but at least I wore tzitzit; grandpa didn’t buy that). … But this was the first time someone put so much effort into it, even after I’d walked away.

I’m going to come back to this post, hopefully discussing the various teshuvot (responsa; opinion papers on issues relating to Jewish law) that I’ve found over the years that deal with piercings and body modification (body piercings, tattoos, branding, intentional scarring, etc).

שבת שלום

War and Peace

It’s really peculiar living somewhere that has an ongoing conflict raging in the background. I don’t see it in my daily wanderings, yet sometime yesterday, perhaps as I sat in a cafe with EKO, or wandered Ben Yehuda negotiating cell phone plans, an Israeli air strike killed five people. And possibly while I was sitting in yet another cafe, supping with a few friends, Palestinians fired two Qassam rockets into the Negev region, hitting a preschool or kindergarden (no one was killed).

This strikes me as being utterly surreal. It’s happening within a couple hours’ drive of where I am, yet I don’t know it’s happening until I read the news the next morning. As long as I can remember, I’ve read of wars in the newspapers, seen pictures and video clips on the televised news… wars from far away places. I’ve never lived close to a war; we’re friendly and polite peace-keeping Canadians, after all! So I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around being in a place where fighting is happening on the periphery. Close enough to be real, far enough away not to effect me. … But that’s something that I struggle with as well: the “life goes on” mentality, that no one stops to care about the ongoing conflicts, until a bomb goes off in their own neighbourhood.

Jerusalem, it is.

So I’m staying in Jerusalem [link to Google Earth file that shows my location], most likely through the end of August. I have ordered a cell phone, which should be here by week’s end; if you feel you’re someone who should have that phone number, email me or leave a comment. Once the phone arrives, it’ll be much easier to coordinate apartment hunting in Haifa. Also, I need to find out exactly which neighbourhood I want to live in there, before I commit to taking a place. Thus far, I only know which neighbourhoods would be convenient as far as being able to take one bus to U-Haifa for ulpan, or to work. Being in walking distance of the beach would be great too, though…

And I’m already starting to think about 2008, back in Jerusalem to study Torah and Talmud. I’m debating between different schools/yeshivas, all of which have pros and cons, not the least of which is that no two schools follow the same academic calendar, which means the Spring Semester can start any time from early January through late February. Oy.

In other news, I have been sick every day that I have been here. Thursday doesn’t really count, as technically I was sick over the Atlantic and western/central Europe. I was fine by Thursday night, then sick again Friday evening and every day since. I’m not sure what’s to blame, though I suspect it’s a combination of the heat and the water (I don’t care what you say, there is a salty taste to the tap water, with a distinct chlorine-y aftertaste). It hasn’t really been slowing me down, though it is annoying. That said, I’m determined to adapt to the heat and water, since it’s still summer and I have to drink the stuff for the next year.

The Hebrewing continues. I had a minor set back - my iPod decided to play dead, so I couldn’t listen to Hebrew lessons on my walk to Ben Yehuda - but that’s been fixed, and I just tried to learn words through usage today (and by pestering EKO as she did her homework and we walked through the city).

Not the most exciting of posts, but an update nonetheless.

Today’s words: מַדְהִים (amazing) and שַׁמְפִּינְיוֹן (champignon [French for mushrooms]).

Language skills

Since getting off the plane in Tel Aviv, I’ve been trying to write down every new Hebrew word that I learn. The first few were easy; I suspect I had learned them previously. Friday’s words were mostly grocery and housing related. (The main apartment hunting website is unilingual, so I’m translating the heck out of it.)

After Shabbat, I took out my notebook and tried to remember the words I’d learned over the previous 28 hours. I think I remembered most, but maybe not. (Highlights included “breasts,” “penis,” and “oil,” which I think all came up in a proper context… or possibly in the context of Dorff’s teshuvah [pdf].)

I’ve been averaging about 25 words per day, most of which are quite practical and I think are a good foundation. But today’s words? “Shake,” “spray,” “poisonous,” “warning,” “swallowing”… Yes, many I can, and will, use in other contexts. But, wow, it took quite a long time to read through the instructions and warnings on the can on insect spray. Read a word, look it up, write it down, read a word, look it up, write it down… I was really pleased that I recognized the shoresh, root, of some words and could guess their meaning given the context. And I really like the onomatopoeia quality of the word פיצוץ which means explosion (or possibly exploding - I’m not sure of the conjugation, or even the noun versus verb issue).

So until I start a proper ulpan (Hebrew immersion program), I will continue writing down new words, reading over the accumulating list each day for review. I’m also listening to Hebrew lessons on my iPod, though, wow, my accent sucks.

It's almost Shabbat

Thanks to an amazing network of friends, I’m in Jerusalem, and housed. Major shout out to BZ, ER, EKO, BK, and others for helping me get this together at the last minute. You’re all amazing. Amaaaazing.

I spent the first night with EKO, walking around, eating yummy dinner with fresh herbs from her balcony garden, walking around some more, and then I slept. Loverly sleep. From the time I crashed, as soon as my head hit the pillow, at 11pm, until I woke at 3:30am. Wide awake. Wiiiide awake. So I watched cheesy videos on my laptop out on the balcony until the sun came up and EKO treated me to great coffee. Oh, and living upstairs from a bakery? Genius.

We went to the shuk so I could buy some basics (sheets, towel; produce)… I found it a little overwhelming: all the people in small spaces, shoving and grabbing and shouting. I’m going to go back to check it out more, but on a weekday, not the afternoon before Shabbat. Then I set myself up chez ER and BZ (who are in New York still so I have their amazing apartment to myself - such lucky generous craziness). To make myself feel more grounded and settled, I totally unpacked here. Sure, I’ll pack everything back up in a few days, but it still feels really comforting to have unpacked and even temporarily settled in.

After Shabbat I’ll be attacking my to do list: getting a cell phone, finding an apartment in Haifa, contacting my job lead in Haifa, and finding an ulpan to do before the main ulpan starts. Excellent.

Oh! And I’ve learned a few new words already. And did a bit of shopping without needing EKO to be my translator. Amazing!

So Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem, y’all… I’ll write again soon.

The first leg…

The journey has begun. I’m sitting the the Zurich airport, waiting for my second flight to take me to Tel Aviv.

Leaving Montreal was surprisingly easy, which I think reflects the fact that Montreal was never really “home.” When I left Vancouver in June 2004, I had the last few weeks planned out with people I had to see, places I had to go, things I had to do. There were very emotional hugs goodbye, amazing going away presents from friends filled with inside jokes (unabridged edition, anyone?), toasts and cheers, and even some tears. Leaving Montreal, I had time to spare, days that I spent chilling and reading and being somewhat of a longer, as I didn’t really have more people to see. I had expected the days between the ‘tute and leaving to be filled with last minute running around, so I left them largely unplanned. No running around happened. While there are people that I will miss, there wasn’t any urgency to go to any place, cafe, park, one last time. Montreal served its purpose for me, and now I’ve moved on…

The flight from YUL to ZRH was uneventful, and largely pleasant, with one exception: those of us who ordered the kosher meals got sick. Seriously. It’s but a small miracle that the nausea didn’t win the battle as we were landing. And then hearing the MOOOs of electronic cows on the tram from one terminal to the other didn’t help the nausea accompanied headache. Do the Swiss really think tourists come here to see cows?!

And now I’m sitting, and waiting, wishing I hadn’t packed my tefillin and siddur in my checked suitcase, as there is a minyan of about 25-30 men davening shacharit in the lounge for the empty gate across the hall. I hear the occasional mumbled word drifting over… On this side of the hall, near my gate, there are a few women davening solo, tucked away in behind pillars, mostly out of sight. There’s also a really cute Israeli kid, maybe 2 years old, standing next to me pointing out the BIG PLANES as they land and taxi around. I’m just excited that I can understand some of what he’s saying…. Oh! And someone just blew the shofar (it’s Elul)! In the airport! In Zurich! Amaaaaazing!!

I’d like to give a big shout out to BZ, ER, Ruby-K, General Anna, Shamir Power and others I’m probably already forgetting (I blame the food poisoning) for helping me find somewhere to stay at the very last minute. You guys are amazing, I love you all, and I can’t wait to see you (some sooner than others!).

Almost [t]here…

I’ve just returned from a week in New Hampshire, at the 2007 NHC Summer Institute (aka, ‘tute). After havdallah, I wrote in my journal, excerpts of which I’ll share here:

I’ve spent a wonderful week here in Rindge, NH at the National Havurah Committee’s Summer Institute. Friends, classes and workshops, singing and dancing, swimming and kayaking, cuddling on the beach.To get in the mindset of shabbos, I sang, I went to the beach, I whispered what I wanted to cast off as I dunked, naked, in the lake-come-mikvah.

I sang, I danced, I welcomed the Sabbath Queen with friends and hugs and smiles all around. I stayed up all night talking and singing and laughing, until we realised the sun was about to rise. I huddled under a blanket with five friends and stood on the field as the sun crept over the mountain tops, the fog rising off the field around us. Between dovening and Torah, I managed to nap, eat, sing, and play Scrabble under an old beautiful tree.

The rest of the week, I took (and skipped) classes; taught a workshop on the history of, and contemporary issues facing, Canadian Judaism; ate a lot of salad and ice cream; helped drink $100 of tasty bourbon; toasted, sang to, and danced in honour of friends’ new marriages and soon-to-be marriages; studied Talmud; talked a lot about sexual ethics in class, at meals, and in an intergenerational discussion group; was forced to get out of the lake by security at 2am; watched meteors sail across the sky; took part in traumatic dramatic readings, spoken word style, of songs found in “Rise Up Singing;” told Nachman stories; and had a great time with a friendly community of open-minded people.

All photos uploaded to flickr thus far by me and others, are here (in a nice slideshow).

Next year’s ‘tute is August 11-17th…. I hope to see you there!

Presque là…

It’s jarring, still living here, but not really living in my own apartment, but not being 100% out of my apartment either. I’m staying chez nevergirl, where the cats run around with bras, the bed has a sink hole, and the decor is black! My furniture is all sold, save for my bed which is in storage. All of my things are sold or in storage.

I’ve been running around, playing final Scrabble games, going to movies, having last meals… It all feels final, which is good. But not with the same weight or emotion that accompanied my move three years ago, from Vancouver to Montreal.

A few more days, a party in my empty apartment, and I’m off to the ‘tute for a week, back to Montreal for 2 days to do laundry and repack, then off for good.