Wine and Gas

Probably, when reading the heading, you think wine and bodily gases because that makes more sense. On the way to work the other day, I noticed for the first time a sign at the gas station advertising wine and cheese. So, like a normal person, you'd think they sell some wine at the gas station. Many do. I've recently gotten wine from a gas station. But this was a nice wine store. It was located between the car wash and the repair shop.

So I started thinking, that could be convenient. You're on your way to a dinner party, running late, need to get gas. And there's a nice wine store to get something to take with you. Then I thought, can you imagine the conversation when the bottle of wine is opened and the person says "Wow, this is good wine. Where did you get it?" And you have to respond, "The gas station."

Rothschild

One of my favorite things about living in Tel Aviv is what a nice city it is. I know a lot of people have this vision of Israel as a desert, and can't really get past that. Well, there's a lot more to Israel than desert, and Tel Aviv has neighborhoods and streets that have such a charm.

One of my favorite things about the city is all the Sderots. No, I'm not referring to the city that was attacked by Gaza a couple of years ago. I'm referring to the streets that have pedestrian walkways down the middle, with trees and benches, and coffee shops. One of the nicest being Sderot Rothschild (pronounced Rotshield in Hebrew), pictured to the side.

The other day, I went on a mini adventure, to find a photo gallery a friend told me about. I got there, and it was very blah. One photographer, and very much not my style. They took the same picture, one under exposed. One over exposed. Why is that supposed to be interesting? That's supposed to be the process to get to a real picture.

Anyways, on the way back, I wasn't really feeling well (this is before I found out that I had the stomach flu) so I stopped for a gelato and strolled down Sderot Rothschild. On the way, I found a bench, from which I took the photos. People rode by on bikes, walked along with friends or strollers. It was so peaceful. Yet, at the same time, it's in the middle of the city.

On a random side not. All of the streets in Israel are named after people who have done some sort of services to the state of Israel. So who were the Rothschilds? Well, according to Wikipedia, they were an influential banking family. Walter Rothschild was the addressee of the Balfour Declaration to the Zionist Federation, which led to the state of Israel.

There's another street in Tel Aviv named Goor Areyeh, which translates to Lion Cub. That means someone's last name is Lion Cub. Just found it random....

Across the Divide

Last Friday night, I went to a potluck in my building. It was a bit unexpected. My friend told me about it in advance, but I had other plans. My plans got postponed, so I went.

When I arrived, it was mostly people from my program. Once the last person arrived, Ilan stood and recited the Friday night blessings, in Hebrew, as I'm used to. He doesn't really speak Hebrew (at least I'm pretty sure he doesn't), but he's Jewish, so he knows the blessings. As he recited, you can hear a twinge of an accent. He's from Ecuador. As he got to the middle, Susan joined in. She's from Canada. And I couldn't help mouthing the words. I'm from the US (I know, you all had no idea). Then I started looking around the room. Also represented was the UK, Russia, and Greece.

It struck me how uniting it is to be Jewish. Yes, I know, lame of me to say. Perhaps it's the same among Mormons, Protestants, Muslims, or Hindus. But I felt it as a Jew because that's something that's united me to this random, eclectic group of people.

My favorite part of the meal was when the food came out. Susan made chicken noodle soup, Ilan made beer chicken, and Irina made chicken curray. I guess there are things other than Judiasm that unite people. Chicken.

The picture isn't actually from the potluck, it's purim, but the US, Turkey, Canada, Germany, and Urugay are represented...

Fruits!

My sister loves fruits. I don't think I've ever met anyone who likes fruits as much as she does. In fact, if she could all the nutrition she needed just from fruits, I think she'd be happy doing it. I can't say that I feel that way. Don't get me wrong, I like fruits as much as the next guy, but not all. Not all the time. But one of the fun things about being in a new country is new fruits!

This lovely orange thing that really doesn't exist in the US is called a Loquat in English (I like the Hebrew name, shesek, better). There's one food that I can use to describe it. Amazing. People say it's a cross between a melon and an apricot. I'm not sure I agree with this statement. They're sometimes sweet, sometimes a bit sour (sour's better). Maybe I'd be willing to concede that texture wise, it's a bit like melon, kind of. All I can really add, is, if you get the opportunity to try one, TRY IT!!! Just peel the skin, and don't eat the giant seeds.

Passion fruit, on the other hand, apparently exists in the US. Maybe? People have at least heard of them. I like things that are passion fruit flavored. My favorite yogurt in Israel is a sour yogurt with passion fruit jam like stuff. But I've never actually even seen a passion fruit. The other day, I was at a moshav and saw these things that looked like shesek, kind of, but green. When I asked what it was, I found it was passion fruit. I never actually knew what it looked like. The flower is also way interesting. Then I saw a ripe one. It looks like a dried up purply brown thing. And you open it up, and it's an orangy goo with seeds. Sounds appetizing. Yet, it tastes just like anything passion fruit flavored. Exactly. Super sweet, almost syrupy, minus the seeds. It was the first time I had even thought about a passion fruit.

Reverse Hitchhiking

Today, I sat at my bus stop, waiting for my bus. A car pulls over to the bus stop to ask for directions. I didn't hear him at first, the other woman at the bus stop talked to him first, but she didn't know how to give him directions. I actually did (although, I realized after the fact that I forgot to tell him to turn on the last street, woopsy).

It was a windy day, and it's a huge, noisy street, so I got up to give him directions. I told him where to go (well, almost). He then asked me if I was also heading to Tel Aviv. I answered yes. He motions with his head for me to get into the car.

Now, let me point out that this man was a businessman. Not old, but probably mid thirties. Nice car (by Israel standards, not Calabsasas). I've been taught well, though, and said no. He asked if I was going to Azrieli. This was where he was headed. No, I wasn't. He then asked if I was going to the Central Bus station, and again tells me to get into the car. I tell him, no, not heading there. At this point, I found it a bit peculiar and had no desire to let on what part of Tel Aviv I was heading to. He then says a third time that he'll take me. I smile, thank him, tell him that my bus is coming any minute, and return to my bench, where a random woman commended me on how smart I was not to get into the car with him because "you never know."

You'd think I'd be the one anxiously trying to get a ride from so I don't have to wait for the bus, pay the money... But no, this man decided to reverse hitchhike and try to pick up someone who didn't want to be picked up. Random.

Free Range Chicken

I work in a commercial, high tech area. I have a tendency of calling it an industrial area, for lack of a better word, but it's actually a pretty nice area. The whole area has only recently been built. In fact, that tall, dark building that takes up most of the picture, is my workplace. The buildings are new, modern, sleek. And behind the two main streets in the area, is a long park You can see that a statue sits on the corner at the beginning of it. This is where I like to spend my lunch. I sit in front of a computer for hours, I at least like to be outside for a bit during lunch.

So, one day, I went to the park to eat lunch. As I start to eat, I notice a white rooster walking leisurely through the park, as if he owns the place. I guess I should mention that I had notice in the past that whatever lot is up against the park has chicken coops. I found this random at the time, but remembered and worried that there was a hole in the fence and the chickens were going to get loose. I later noticed that, while the white one was obviously the head honcho (random fact, honcho originated from Japanese), there were a couple of hens also hanging out along the fence where, on the other side, there was a chicken coop.

I was quite amused as I saw the giant rooster headed for a kitten. Cats like birds, but the rooster was easily twice the size of the kitten. I wondered where this encounter would go. It didn't really. It was a little anti climactic to say the least.

But, as the chicken wandered in and out of the gate, I thought, poor guy who owns them. What will happen when he comes back and finds his chicken gone? However, since then, on at least 2 other occasions, the chicken have been out, wandering the pack, although staying fairly close to the fence where they obviously come from.

Talk about free range chicken...

Culture Clashes

An Arab woman got on my bus today. I noticed her because I've seen her on my bus several times. She was covered, pretty much from head to toe. Long skirt, long sleeve shirt, head covering. However it wasn't what I would think of when I think of a traditional Arab woman's outfit. Her shirt was a button down, pinstripe. Black's and grays, which I'm pretty sure is her general color scheme.

But then it got me wondering where is she going? What is she doing. She rides the same bus as me at the same time, not daily, but on several occasions. When she got off, it was in a commercial area. I started to wonder, is she going to work? She seems fairly traditional (and we all know the traditional woman's role in an Arabic society).

Then I started thinking about the word Arab, in general. It's not a religion. Arab's are generally Muslim, although some are Christian. It's not really an ethnicity, since Arabs live in Iraq, Iran, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Egypt, Morocco... just to name a small few. So I started to wonder who is defined as an Arab.

According to Wikipedia: "Arab people (Arabic: عربي‎, ʿarabi) or Arabs (العرب al-ʿarab) are a panethnicity of peoples of various ancestral origins, religious backgrounds and historic identities, whose members, on an individual basis, identify as such on one or more of linguistic, cultural, political, or genealogical grounds.^[11] Those self-identifying as Arab, however, rarely do so on their own. Most hold multiple identities, with a more localized prioritized ethnic identity — such as Egyptian, Lebanese, or Palestinian — in addition to further tribal, village and clan identities."

Thank you Wikipedia. So, what about the Jews that have a similar ancestral, cultural, political background? No need to worry, Wikipedia also has this covered...

"Jews from Arab countries – mainly Mizrahi Jews and Yemenite Jews – are today usually not categorised as Arab. Sociologist Philip Mendes asserts that before the anti-Jewish actions of the 1930s and 1940s, overall Iraqi Jews "viewed themselves as Arabs of the Jewish faith, rather than as a separate race or nationality".^[65] Prior to the emergence of the term Mizrahi, the term "Arab Jews" was sometimes used to describe Jews of the Arab world. The term is rarely used today."

Hard to imagine a time when Jews would have been comfortable calling themselves Arab Jews since today it seems like such an oxymoron.

And to end on a completely different note and explain the random picture of an Indian woman at the beginning of the post... At work, in the elevator, there are TV screens which play ads that McCann Erikson have worked on. On my way up that morning, it had to be an ad with Indian women, dressed similarly to the woman in the picture. After my long reflection of the Arab woman, covered head to toe (and a tangent I won't even get into about how Orthodox Jewish woman also feel the need to cover themselves in the same way), I found it interesting to see a culture in which the tradition was the complete opposite. It's appropriate to show skin and wear BRIGHT colors. I lean drastically towards the Indian mindset in this instance.

What the Hell is Up With Tel Aviv Streets Today?

I was originally going to call this post, "My Day on the Bus," but eventually decided that this was more fitting. When I left work today and took my usual 3:00pm bus, I expected the normal bus ride, and to arrive at home around 3:30, as usual. That was not my day. Instead the following events kept me from getting home until 4.

Let me start by apologizing for an insane amount of street names. I have provided a map below...

Having just returned from a weekend trip to Ein Gedi the night before (I will eventually get back to my weekend in Ein Gedi), I was exhausted, and naturally dozing off on the bus. Then I start to hear a weird rhythmic noise. I start to listen for it, and it occurs with regularity. I start thinking, this sounds like drums. Then I hear what sounds like horns. This is where I start thinking something might be up.

Sure enough, in front of Lev Haeyr L'Mishpacha (Heart of the City for Families, which, by the way, I have no idea what is at this building but have often wondered about it as I pass on a daily basis) there was a marching band. The street was blocked off and tons of people were in the street. They held up a sign, but I couldn't tell if it was a parade or protest, or some unknown type of gathering. Because of this, we had to make an unexpected detour. Generally we continue down the same street, Arlozoroff, until Dizengoff. Instead we turned left on Bloch and then right on Ibn Gvirol. I assumed we would then be turning left on Arlozoroff to get on the same route. And, surprisingly in this city, it was even possible to make a left onto Arlozoroff, but the bus driver didn't realize this.

We continue going north on Ibn Gvirol (which is the complete opposite direction of where we need to go), and the driver doesn't seem to have plans to turn in the opposite directions. People on the bus start to become hysterical (and because they're Israelis, they are that much more annoying and vocal about it). Finally, a little woman gets up and asks the bus driver if he needs help. She then proceeds to give him step-by-step directions, standing next to him every step of the way.

One of the scariest things I've done on a bus is had to make a U-turn. Although, I did realize at some point that if there was to be an accident, those of us on the bus would probably be ok. Anyways, we finally U-turn, head back in the correct direction, and turn on Arlozoroff (Just FYI, the location where we U-turned is off the map).

We continue along the normal route at this point. The next step is mine, but wait! My stop is near Pinsker, just after Bogroshov, but there's a police car blocking the street. The bus driver doesn't know what to do. The same woman tells him to turn right on Bogorshov. And I worry that I will never get off the bus. She asks to be let off as the bus waits to make the right onto Bogroshov. As he opens the door for her, I take the opportunity to run off.

So, why was Pinsker closed? No idea. I walked down Pinsker, and turned left on Trumpledor (my bus stop is usually right on Trumpledor). There's another police car blocking off where my bus would have turned right on Trumpledor. As I approach the intersection, a cab does too, and he honks at the police car blocking the road. Her response: "Oh, I'm parked here so that you can attempt to squeeze around me. What do you think?! The road is closed!!" Priceless...











the blueish line is the normal route, pink was today's route, and red is road closures.