8 Days a Week

Because of Shabbat (Friday sundown to Saturday nightfall), everywhere in Israel has its own weekly rhythm, unique from anywhere else in the western world that I have been. Shabbat affects the whole country, even places that are considered "secular." Buses stop running. Like Sundays in Europe, most stores are closed on Saturday, even in Tel Aviv, although non-kosher restaurants and bars often stay open. Even all this aside, time in Israel definitely has its own way of going about.

Thursday is kind of like Saturday night--everyone goes out. Tables upon tables crammed into the streets (even up and down hills), tons of people walking around, everything open. In Jerusalem, this means that the several streets downtown that people go to are jam-packed. But Thursday is also special in its own right. Supermarkets stay open late to compensate for closing early on Friday, and if you look carefully, you can see bakeries preparing challah for Shabbat until the wee hours.

Bread Baking in the Basement of a Bakery on Yaffo Street

Friday, as I mentioned, is a great day to brunch. Also a terrible day to do kniyot (food shopping). It can get very hectic, but great deals can also be found in the rush to close for Shabbat.

And let's not forget Sunday. It is back to work, bright and early, for most of us. For many olim, this is the hardest part of all. But for others, this isn't the case. After the rush of Shabbat and then the calm, half the shuk's stalls are deserted. Just like everywhere else, sometimes people just want to take the day off.

Honey, I'm Home: A Countdown

I returned to Israel on Monday morning, bright and early. On Israel Time, somehow the week is fast approaching Shabbat. Here is a list of how and why I know I am back:

10. I had hardly been in the country one hour when I had my sanity questioned by an angry group taxi/ sheirut driver. "At NORMALIT?" he blared when I asked him to take me to the front of the apartment rather than the back (which seemed to have a locked gate). However, when I screamed back "Slicha, ani oleh chadasha!" (excuse me, I am a new immigrant!) he calmed down and may have even felt badly. He also argued with this girl on the way back to Jerusalem over the best route, but by the time she left they were already parting as old friends

9. An older married couple visiting from Haifa chatted with me on the tram. One of their first questions was, not if I was married but HOW MANY CHILDREN I had. They said, they love all of the people of Jerusalem (including me)

8. Another day (my first day back to work, no less!), there was a twenty minute delay on the tram, possibly because of an unidentified package that was left at the Central Bus Station which was being investigated. Unfortunately, security concerns part of everyday life in Jerusalem. Security precautions are one of the only things (perhaps the only thing) Israelis don't seem to argue and yell about that much

7. I bought delicious fresh bananas, nectarines and plums at the shuk, all for the ripe price of 9 shekles total (>$3!). I also passed a stand selling "shmeers" spelled out in hebrew letters

6. Speaking of food, I found amazing goat cheese in the Land of Milk&Honey, in the supermarket no less

5. In the same supermarket in the same Land of Milk&Honey, I also confused my white dairy products and wound up with sour cream (leben/לבן) instead of plain yogurt (lavan/לבן), not to be confused with a cream cheese spread of sorts (lavana/לבנה)

4. I had an extremely tasty freshly squeeze juice from the shuk made out of orange juice, carrot juice and ginger. Tasty! Another wining combination: dates and bananas. When I asked about the pomegranate, the juicer knowingly said to wait a few more days for them to come into season

3. I ran into a friend during my break at work on Bezalel Street, one of my favorite places in all of Jerusalem

2. 15 shekel shwarma at one AM

and... #1. I have had my pronunciation of my street name corrected twice by two different Israeli cab drivers. However, the first pronunciation was corrected by the second driver who insisted that the first pronunciation was the "American" accent. It seems Israelis can find a way to argue no matter what, even pending time and space. More power to them!

Hey, it feels good to be home!

Cafes, shops and tram tracks along Yaffo Street. Photo courtesy of my father, David Nechamkin

How to Eat an Israeli Breakfast

When I lived in New York, Sunday brunch was one of my favorite things to do. Lie in bed for a little and drink coffee/ watch TV, and then around 1 or 2 go meet a friend for brunch. Living in Williamsburg, the options were endless and I definitely grew an affinity for poached eggs. However, there were also pancakes and waffles made out of creative batter and interesting breakfast sandwich combinations galore.

Now that I have moved to Israel, one of my favorite things to do is still brunch—but rather than on Sunday, on Friday morning. In Israel, the workweek is Sunday-Thursday because of Shabbat so Friday is the time people really go out to brunch. I also notice people tend to go earlier—perhaps to avoid the pre-shabbat rush of shopping/ everything shutting down.

Israeli breakfast food is also not like American breakfast food. Waffles are available in limited places, but they are thought of more as dessert or snack food. Pancakes I have yet to see. Israeli breakfasts seem to favor eggs—either scrambled, fried (in Hebrew, they are called something like “eye” eggs) or alternatively poached in shakshuka.

Israeli breakfast traditionally includes “lavana”, like cream cheese but healthier; Israeli salad made of cucumbers and salad; bread; and more. This means that Israeli brunch combines the best of American breakfast (eggs) with Israeli food--delicious espresso, mezze and salads. SO, here is how to order an Israeli breakfast!

1)   choose the coffee drink you want (cappuccino, latte, or sometimes an iced latte at an extra cost)

2)   choose a type of fresh squeezed juice (options are generally orange, red grapefruit or carrot)

3)   eat a huge chunk of bread

4)   with.... dips for the bread (cheese, Israeli salad, more cheese, olives, guacamole, tomato dip and more)

5)   choose your main course (eggs)

6)   finish with a green salad if you have room!

My Friend Rachel with her Coffee, Empty Juice Glass,
 and Selection of 6 Dips Before the Main Course Has Arrived

Then the Main Course and Salad Arrives.

Sometimes places will put their own spin on things. I went to a bagel place in the Americanized German Colony (Jerusalem’s very own Upper West) and on their menu they had Spanish, Italian and French interpretations of Breakfast.  No matter what you choose, you leave full of fresh fruits and veggies and some protein-rich eggs. Well, at least I tell myself that... But what really makes Israeli brunch so impressive to me is that it is an endless meal at an insanely reasonable price: I have never seen Israeli breakfast for more than NIS60.00 (approximately USD15.00). To me, Israeli breakfast is the breakfast of champions.

Reading Rainbow

One of My Favorite Used Bookstores Downtown

Israelis love books. I have  heard that more books are published per capita in Israel than anywhere else in the world. There are bookstores EVERYWHERE. Jerusalem’s Central Bus Station, instead of pedaling knock-off handbags, has tables and tables of discounted books, as well as an actual bookstore.  Used bookstores dot the downtown streets, selling books in many languages. A café downtown is named after a work of literature by Shay Agnon and is filled to the ceiling with books. 
 

The other day I decided to pay a visit the Beit Vegan library which was a disorienting experience in itself. I wandered around Hertzl Street peering into residential buildings’ courtyards for some time. After giving up looking, I stumbled on the library by chance while trying to take a shortcut to the Beit Kerem shopping center.

The library is located within the neighborhood’s community center and once inside the mysterious big building, I stumbled again on the library by chance. In a country with so much security—getting into Jerusalem Central Bus Station requires a body scan and a bag scan—I was surprised that no one seemed curious about a random girl with a backpack wandering around.

And so at age 24, a Smith College graduate with a degree in Comparative Literature and Italian Language & Literature, I find myself scanning the selection of children’s books, even putting some books down because they seem too intimidating.

Learning Hebrew has been a humbling process. I do feel like I am getting better; people finally respond to me in Hebrew, I am able to bargain with vendors and taxi drivers and I speak exclusively in Hebrew with one of my roommates. But still, I have a long way to go. And nowhere is this clearer than when I am reduced to reading books written for the same age level as the kids I babysit (incidentally, they approve of my choices).

Choosing a children’s book was in itself a challenge. I have the reading level of an elementary schooler, but have more sophisticated tastes than that. Even when I started reading Italian, I was able to jump into young adult literature (and no one does teen romance novels better than the Italians). Here, if there aren’t nikudot (vowel points), I struggle. And many children’s books don’t even have those.

Israeli kids must like book series because the children’s section was full of them. There was a Star Wars series, which was tempting, a series about a boy explorer that looked very old skool and a series called “Ezeh Pakhad” which roughly translates to “That’s Scary!” or “What fear!” The “Ezeh Pakhad” book I read was about an 8 year old boy who hears about a monster that lives in the Kenneret. When his family decides to vacation in the Kenneret, the narrator’s neurosis are exposed. I really couldn’t help but think about Woody Allen. They say the sabra is strong, not like his wimpy American counterpart, but now I am not so sure.

"Ezeh Pachad"

StarWars

After reading about an 8 year old’s fears for an hour, I went to the Beit Kerem shopping center to pick up my dry cleaning. I passed a Stiemansky’s, an Israeli bookstore chain. They were having a promotion of four books for NIS100, I think in honor of Israel Book Week. Unlike in America, and surprising giving Israel’s sometimes-gruff customer service, employees are really helpful in bookstores in Israel. I explained to them that I am a new oleh (immigrant), aged 24 but with a low level of reading, and am going crazy reading children’s books. They suggested Etgar Keret, and Caster Bloom who I have never heard of. I was shown a beautiful collection of Keret’s short stories—shinny Tiffany’s blue cover, nice paper, not too long, but without nikudot. NIS79.

As much as I don’t want to spend the money, books are a sentimental thing for me. I still have the first real books I read in Italian and Spanish, and have taken the book that I translated for my final project in Italian Translation with me, across the ocean, to Israel. I would love to have the first adult book I will read in Hebrew displayed proudly in my bomb shelter room, resting next to classics as Open Heart, The Forsythe Saga, a commentary on the book of Shmuel, and of course Dod Arieh (Uncle Arieh), winner of the Israel Prize Award in Children’s Literature.

Home&Garden

So as I may have mentioned, I live in Bayit VeGan now. The looks on people’s faces when they hear I live in Bayit VeGan is often interesting to say the least. “That’s quite frum, isn’t it?” is the typical response of people in the know, manly modern orthodox Jews.

When I lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, people would usually nod with an approving look, even smile. Williamsburg, or “the Burg” or as some of my former coworkers would say “WillieB” is located in Brooklyn just over the bridge and is really more part of Manhattan than Brooklyn in attitude and in access to public transport. It has become extremely gentrified in the past few years, although historically it hosted Jewish immigrants (such as my grandma when she was a little girl) and later hipsters. Even some historical rap videos were made a few blocks away from my former apartment. But now it is a mix of everything—hipsters, gentrified hipsters (high rises on the waterfront galore), a few streets with Latin American stores and ultra-orthodox Jews. In this way, my living in the Burg appealed to anyone I might talk to, especially fellow gentrified hipsters.

Like Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Bayit VeGan also has its fair share of ultra-orthodox Jews. In fact, the vast majority are, dafka, ultra-orthodox Jews. There are no hipsters insight. However, similar to the Burg, there are a lot of French people (including two of my roommates, one of whom seems to know many people in the ‘hood including her aunt) and supposedly some Americans, though I have only seen three of my compatriots thus far.

Bayit VeGan, meaning House and Garden, is located in southwest Jerusalem directly off the city’s new tramline. It is near Har Hertzel and Yad VaShem, the Holocaust memorial museum. Like Williamsburg (and actually most of Jerusalem), Beit Vegan is a mix of new and old:

While most of Jerusalem is pervaded with ancient history, the archaeological discoveries at the border of Bayit Vegan have been particularly rich. A 4,000 year-old cemetery that occupies more than half an acre has been found near Bayit Vegan, as well as many Canaanite artifacts. Archaeologists believe that burials took place in the cemetery during the Bronze Age.

In the 20th century, Bayit Vegan was one of the six neighborhoods designed by the Bauhaus architect Richard Kaufman, along with Beit HaKerem and Rechavia. The picturesque charm of Kaufman’s design has increased with age: today, the weathered stone facades gleam softly in the sunlight. Verdant greenery seems to escape from every crack in the aging walls and overflow from windowsills.      

(http://www.gojerusalem.com/discover/item_11332/Bayit-Vegan)

Stairway to Heaven

The neighborhood is very beautiful and flowering trees overflow. There is also construction throughout the neighborhood.

Bayit VeGan is Jerusalem’s highest neighborhood. Many apartments have balconies and the views really are quite amazing—you can see the city’s bright lights and Jerusalem’s hills in the background. Like East Talpiot, where Beit Canada was located, the best way to get around is to go up or down like shoots or ladders rather than to go around and around the mountain at a slow incline. Thus, getting to my bank was 15 minutes up several flights of stairs to the tippy top of the hill.

I still have more to explore but at the very least, the walk to my apartment is nice. A playground, a few synagogues, one happening pizza place and an event space where festive Hassidic tunes are played until late at night.

One of the Many Synagogues on My Block

Olam (literally "hall") Events Space

Happening Pizza Joint

Views of the Jerusalem Hills

My New Apartment is Da Bomb, or You Know You Live in Israel When....

I finished ulpan on Wednesday. While it is true that I am not as sentimental as most (I have never been called “waterworks” even in jest) it is a little sad to be done with Ulpan Etzion Beit Canada. It was the co-ed dorm experience I never had at Smith College, a beautiful but tame all-women’s school in Western Massachusetts.

However, I was definitely ready to leave my apartment (and especially my bathroom) at Beit Canada behind. They were also part of the dorm experience I never had, and hope never to have again. On Thursday I moved to a unbelievably amazing apartment in Beit Vegan, Jerusalem. And because of this, somehow I have found myself in MTV land, straddling MTV Cribs because the apartment is actually a mansion, and an episode of True Life because upon moving in, I realized that my bedroom is actually a bomb shelter.

My Bedroom Window. Instead of the Normal Window Blinds, I Have Heavy Metal Panels that Bolt Shut

My Light Features an Emergency Panic Light

My Heavy Metal Door Which SLAMS Shut (and as a happy coincidence, keeps out a lot of noise)

Bomb shelters are everywhere in Israel. I believe it is a law that every building must have one in case the rockets come a-falling. In Beit Shemesh, I even slept in one that had been converted into a guest room. Don’t get me wrong: the apartment is amazing and I am incredibly grateful to live there. But never in my wildest dreams did I EVER think I would move from a lovely, spacious and open house in grassy Scarsdale, NY to a BOMB SHELTER. 

All Ulpan Etzioners talk about life post-ulpan as the beginning of our “real” lives in Israel. I guess this is my "true" life moment as well.

ALL OF THE LIGHTS

Picture of the Top of the Entrance to the Lights Festival

In many ways, Thursday night was a full circle….. of something. Perhaps of the last year in Israel? My hopes? My dreams?

The night started off at the Jerusalem Lights Festival. I went last year with a dear friend and really loved it so I was excited to go again. It takes place inside and on top of the walls of the Old City throughout in the different quarters. At the entrance to the festival, right outside of the Mamilla Mall, there is an enormous dome made out of lights, quite beautiful to admire from within or outside of it.

Part of a Series of Shadow Projections

When you enter the walls of the Old City through Jaffa Gate, there are several different color lines you can take, different paths to explore. I started on the orange line, which wove through the Jewish quarter. There were some cool parts—a projection of “faces of Jerusalem” projected on a white oval, high up with different faces, some human, some humanoid; large spider-esque sculptures made up of cascading lights; and a musical instrument that reminded me of a gamelan (image) made out of non-musical components, accompanying a light show projected on to an old city wall. We took a small detour and left the Lights Show via the blue line and wove through the Arab market. The blue line seemed a little cooler than the orange one, but at that point we were all eager for a stiff (or soft) drink and left the Old City to find “the closest place.”

And I knew just the place, or so I thought. There were two places (bars) I had passed the other day and that night on the way to the Old City and wanted to check out—a pink bar and a grungier bar next door. At this point, the pink bar had already filled up completely and may have had a bouncer and a velvet rope, so it wasn’t so appealing to the male half of the group. And the grungier bar apparently wasn’t grungy, just an irish pub, and being Thursday night at 11 pm, it was pretty full already and not appealing either to everyone. So we were just going to give up and go to another Irish pub which I had frequented all too often during my days as a MASA participant, but beseder. We took a shortcut down a road less traveled road to get to the Irish pub when low and behold, a beacon of light, incidentally a salmon and dark brown beacon of light with outdoor seating that was unusually empty of the time of night, and unusually non-Irish pubby for Jerusalem standards. We went to that bar and it was nice—spacious, interesting decor, good selections of drinks. The only problem was, they seemed to be short on ice. But no matter, it was definitely a place I would go to again, out of the hustle and bustle that is downtown Jerusalem.

After the drinks, some wanted a little nibble and as we were walking up the hill to get back to downtown Jerusalem, we see it—Hummus Ben Sira, what I call a “hummuseria” that sells…. Hummus. Hummus with toppings, hummus with falafel, hummus with pita. Hummus Ben Sira is open late and fairly inexpensive (NIS22 or about $6 for a bowl of hummus topped with chickpeas, a small bowl of fafelal balls and two pitas), and supposedly the best hummus in Jerusalem. So while I was not super hungry per say, I jumped at the chance to eat there, having wanted to pay Hummus Ben Sira a visit for over a year. And eat there we did. After ordering for my friends and being made fun of for my Hebrew and its glorious/somewhat mysterious argentine accent (I still have yet to learn to deal with the Israeli good-natured-but-at-times-harsh teasing), the moment of truth arrived. My friend got a falafel sandwich in a pita, which she described as the best of her life. I split an order of hummus and pita with a friend which came with falafel balls, as described above. The falafel was a bit fried for my taste, but the hummus was very good—creamy and flavorful and topped with warm chickpeas, just the way I like. My friend who has worked in the food industry and makes his own hummus said Ben Sira’s hummus was just the way he liked it and that he was inspired to use more tehina next time to mimic the hummus’ texture. Impressive review! I can’t say that this was the best hummus of my life, only that it was very tasty.

So to conclude, thursday night, I took a trip down memory lane, as they say, found a new hangout (a must as a New Yorker in need of endless options) and visited a place I have been wanting to find for over a year. Oh, Jerusalem!

View of Entrance to Lights Festival from Outside