Announcements

The following announcement was sent via email to HUC students:

Israelphone – After this has happened to a few students, I found out that Cellcom (the company that Israelphone is connected to) turns phones off if they see outgoing calls to the West Bank, Aza or Arab countries. They assume that the phone is lost or stolen. They are supposed to call and check before they shut it off but apparently this hasn't been the case. If you have friends or family that you are calling in these areas, let me know and it will be noted by the company. Otherwise, avoid calling from your cellphone. This is a Cellcom policy not Israelphone.

So all HUC students and their families have to rent cell phones from Israelphone for the entire year. Who would have thought that politics could affect a cell phone company in this manner. After last night's blog entry I found this to be highly appropriate. God forbid a Jew and/or Israeli have a friend on the other side. If someone is to call the West Bank, Gaza or an Arab country, it's not something that is done in peace and innocence; rather, it is because some Arab hoodlum steals an innocent Jews cell phone and makes calls to their Arab place of residence to plan the next bombing. Yeah yeah, I know -- a little extreme. But you get the point.

So, About That "Annapolis" Thing

I hope you aren't expecting some eloquent statement on how the Middle East conflict can be resolved. I am in kindergarten when it comes to this subject. The night is young in Jerusalem. As I look out our front apartment window, I see bumper to bumper traffic coming up and down Jabotinsky, a major street in Jerusalem. The President lives at the top of the hill, and I imagine there are several check points up that way. A stark contrast to the quiet, car free street I wrote about on Yom Kippur. I was working at Crossroads this afternoon, leaving there about a quarter after 6. When I walked out to Yaffo Street, I was slightly surprised by the amounts of people out and about. I walked up Ben Yehuda to King George, and the throngs of people increased. By the end of tonight I can't even imagine the number of falafel balls that will have been consumed by the hungry masses. I started walking on King George towards my apartment, a good little jaunt, and I quickly became disturbed. Who made up the masses in Jerusalem tonight? Who was out on the streets rallying for Israel? Kids, well, children really. All of the seminaries (girls) and yeshivas (boys) from Jerusalem and surrounding cities and suburbs dropped their children off to represent the supposed multitudes. Mind you many of them seemed to be of Anglo origin. The children were sent to dance and sing and make noise for Israel. I saw an awful lot of groups of boys and girls just sitting around, watching each other, more interested in doing kid things like playing Red Rover, Red Rover with their eyes, as they are not allowed to actually touch each other. Those that danced, danced with excitement, but I have a feeling they were dancing more for fun than because of some deep political belief they are told to hold by their parents and Rabbis. To me they looked like dancing pawns in an intellectually challenging game of political chess. I fear what the check mate might bring. I had no choice but to plow through the masses that were gathered in the thousands on King George in front of the stage full of Israeli flags and singing Black Hats. I couldn't understand the lyrics, nor could I read the signs. I was too busy using my broad shoulders and wide hips to snake a path through the insanity. There is so much misunderstanding, between Jews even, not to mention including the Arabs in that dichotomy. There were groups of secular Israeli children dancing, being laughed at by the religious Israeli children who didn't understand that the secular kids were making fun of them. The chaos that is Jerusalem tonight to me and my limited experience had nothing to do with politics. It was about the children. They wanted to flirt and make eyes, sit and giggle, point and laugh. The boys just wanted to "be boys" and hit and kick each other to show their affection. I'm sure that tonight, many of them, as always, were bored with politics. Politics never really seems to get us anywhere, so who can blame them. Kids just want to be kids, but we won't let them. Instead we force ideas and beliefs on them without ever explaining what they mean or allowing them to feel differently. And I didn't even have to actually look and see that there were no Arabs, Israeli or Palestinian, to be found on the streets tonight. The dogs were out in all their glory; there was no room for the minority or the oppressed. I'd like to think that the Arab children were dancing and flirting, etc., etc. Not in Jerusalem they weren't; well, maybe they were in their homes with the blinds drawn. It would have been a good night to be in the West Bank, to see the other side, literally, but it just wouldn't have been safe. This issue will never be resolved until the grown ups shut their fanatical traps and let their children think for themselves. Yes, there are people who exist among the gray in regards to this issue, but it is not a pleasant place to be as they fall in the minority. I've always taken the phrase "the children are the future" with a grain of salt, mostly because it is overused and annoying. But tonight I believe that it rings true. If we want changes to be made to ensure a brighter future, then it has to start with the kids. I hope that in the circles of children scattered throughout Jerusalem tonight, a few of them ask themselves or their friends "why are we hear tonight anyway," and that maybe they will talk about it a little in between rounds of Red Rover. Oh, and if you're wondering whose side I'm on, well, I vote for humanity.

My Second 10th Birthday

On October 3rd I celebrated 10 years clean and sober. I know this is news to some people reading this. All I can say to you is the warm, caring and real person you know would not exist today if I had not gotten clean and sober back in college. 10 years is a long time, it's a significant amount of time -- a decade. I look at it that I have been clean and sober for 1/3 of my life. Holy crap! And I am only 30 years old. When I turn 40 I will have been clean and sober for half my life, and I'll hopefully have decades ahead of me. Maybe when I turn 103 and Willard Scott (he's timeless, right?) and Smuckers recognize this poor old thing on the Today show, he can also say that I have been clean and sober 83 years. Yeah, holy crap!

I had a wonderful personal celebration of my anniversary with Rachel. We had a wonderful Argentinian steak dinner, and she gave me a beautifully written card as well as a hand engraved Hadya necklace which she had engraved with the words "im ain ani li mi li" (if I am not for myself, who will be for me" and on the back "rak l'hayom" (one day at a time) with my sobriety date. I went to an AA meeting afterwards and was given a 10 year chip from another individual's personal collection, the first time that has happened to me in my 10 years. And I will pay it forward. My anniversary wasn't until the next day but in Jerusalem AA, a day is relative -- religious or secular depending on the situation.

The following day was my actual anniversary. It was also Simchat Torah. I wrote the following account of the experience in an email I sent out that night:

I sit here at 10:02pm, and I am exhausted. Exhausted yes, but invigorated even more. I'm still reeling from the hours of dancing I did at the Simchat Torah celebration I attended at Kibbutz Gezer. I didn't expect myself to dance very much. On the way there I was thinking to myself how when I first got clean and sober, so many people told me to just sit in meetings and listen, that I had far more to learn than to contribute in those early days. As much as I don't usually agree with that philosophy, I find myself using it in various parts of my life, a little too often, mostly as an excuse. I had planned on staying on the outside of the circles tonight, observing, learning. But once the klezmer band started playing, and the Torahs were embraced, and people started dancing, well, I couldn't contain myself. I ran out into the crowd and danced, and danced, and danced. I was winded and my legs felt like jello, but I danced, and danced, and danced. I danced with a smile on my face, throwing my head back in laughter at times, eagerly grabbing people's hands and shoulders so I could feel the joy of the connection I felt to others there with me. During the last go around, a large group made a big circle around the people holding the four Torahs and circle danced. The circle was avoiding a tree so I called to people to go around the tree, and apparently others were thinking the same thing. So our circle embraced the tree as well – the tree of life, my tree of life. I circle danced around my tree of life; I celebrated and honored my life as I danced. I thought about the many difficult times and the many joyous occasions I have lived with and through, the hard work I have done to become the good person I am today, the unselfish devotion I have had for myself as I, day in and day out, look to heal and embrace the future. Today I have been clean and sober for 10 years, a decade, a third of my life. Tonight I danced in celebration of a lot of things, one of them being myself, and that I am able to do that so freely is a testament to what my life has become free of drugs and alcohol. I was drenched in sweat earlier; my hair was dripping and my shirt was soaking. But it has been many, many years since I felt so clean. If you are reading this it is because you have at some point, in some way, contributed to my ability to have the strength to overcome my demons, by loving me, supporting me, encouraging me, challenging me and, quite frankly, by simply putting up with me at times. If I didn't have each of you, I wouldn't be so blessed today, and there would be little voids in my life where your spirits should have shone brightly. But I don't have to worry about that today. All I have to do is to say thank you, to myself and to each of you. I sit here at 10:37pm, and I am grateful.

But why confine celebrations to specific time frames? Rachel and I decided that we wanted to share our joy with the HUC-JIR student community. We chose to do it on a Saturday evening because we could incorporate Havdallah, and I would tell my story. Our celebration was held this past Saturday evening in the Persian Garden on the HUC campus. Amazingly, the majority of the community came -- about 50 people -- we will forever be moved and humbled by this. It was an intimate space, and there was a comforting chill in the air. The group had naturally formed a circle, and Rachel was sitting beside me (Rachel has never been sitting beside me when I have told my story in the past, and now I won't want it any other way). We began by dedicating the evening to my mom who is having some health problems. Our songleader began with a niggun and then transitioned into Mishaberach. I then proceeded to tell my story. I wanted to tailor it to my audience (no war story like they do in AA), and the easiest way was to talk around 10 points, 10 things that I am grateful for today because of my sobriety. It was pretty much dark at this point except for the moonlight -- there were no lights in the area we were sitting in. I talked with surprising ease (it being dark REALLY helped) for about 15 minutes. The crowd was rowdy in the beginning when I opened with "I've been clean and sober since October 3rd, 1997" and then thankfully responded positively to my attempts at wit and humor. When I finished I got a great big "simon tov and mazal tov" followed by the Shehecianu. Rachel then spoke briefly about Havdallah and seperation, about every day being a new day, every day having the chance to change what we don't like so as to help us live a better life. We then had a very spiritual Havdallah experience. The flame on the candle was enormous, but it was the only light, and it lit up the small space we were in so that we could all see each other again. And then, like good Jews, we ate!!! Rachel and I had made a small investment into the Marzipan business Thursday night, and everyone happily feasted on lots of cakes and sweets. I was overwhelmed by the many hugs given to me and the amazing, kind words people shared with me. It appears to have been an intimate and meaningful experience for everyone in attendance. It was a small moment in time that Rachel and I will never forget.

I Feel Like I've Been Waiting For It My Entire Life...

...the first Jerusalem rain of the season. I was working at Crossroads (more on that later) all evening, and at around 7pm I started hearing loud thunder and seeing bright flashes of lightening. And then the rains came. I was so incredibly excited that I bounded down 2 flights of stairs and went outside and just stood in the rain. I called Rachel who was with some classmates having coffee and she too was ecstatic. On day 70 of being in Jerusalem I posted a blog about how sick I was of the bright, sunny and blue skied days. Well, 51 days later, I can happily say that the rainy season has arrived. It was very cloudy and dreary all day, so I'm not surprised that it ended up raining. I kept saying to people "Do you know how happy this makes me?!?!?" Rain is a regular part of the areas I have lived in the States, so it feels ever so familiar to stand outside in Jerusalem and get wet from falling rain. When I walked home from Crossroads it was still raining, and people were dressed as if it were a snowstorm which made me laugh. Fleece jackets, scarves, hats. I was ecstatic to be walking around town in a t-shirt and jeans and not be sweating for a change! But the happiness of a week or so ago of praying for rain and "miraculously" getting it was quickly dampened as my feet almost went out from under me and I almost busted my butt 3 times as I walked home. That damn Jerusalem stone is so slick when it is wet. So here's to the beginning of a season filled with people wiping out and getting large, strange looking bruises on their backsides.

Hello to Freedom and New Perspectives

The first of three HUC tiyulim (trips) took us to the North to learn more about the “New Jew” – emigrants from the first and second aliyah period before the founding of the modern state of Israel (1880-1914). It was a great trip, not perfect because Amy was too sick to join us, but a much needed break from J’lem. First, a reflection on our class – while I know it’s still early in the year I think we’re a pretty amazing group of people. Not to say that everyone’s friends with each other but that’s not the goal – the goal is respect and camaraderie. The year-in-Israel experience breeds a camp environment with all the good and bad of living and breathing each other 24/7. This first tiyul was a true test of our maturity and willingness to roll with the punches and I think we passed – no need for a class meeting or group therapy. Ok, back to the actual tiyul.

We left very early Sunday morning, only a few hours after the gates closed on Yom Kippur and everyone still hung over from gorging at break-the-fast. I quickly became a proud member of bus #2 (our madrichot bought martzipan rugela to win us over) comprised of our amazing tour educator, Gadi (brother-in-law of my friend Ari Geller and son-in-law to Rabbi Gellar) and our amazing history teacher and source for all things British, Dave Mendelson. The initial drive North was sprinkled with history tidbits, Israeli factoids, international sports updates and much needed cat-naps. Our first stop was Rosh Pina, one of the first settlements from the first aliya period beginning in the early 1880s. The original moshava still exists and is absolutely beautiful! The surrounding town of Rosh Pina is known for its B&B’s, restaurants and wineries so I hope to have an opportunity to spend more time in the area. Our first stop also brought our first multi-media presentation of the trip. This will have to be a separate blog entry but I am quickly becoming a multi-media connoisseur – every single site in Israel has an accompanying presentation, I’m not exaggerating! One of my theories it that during the second intifada while tourism was lagging, Israelis had plenty of time to update every tour site. It’s really unbelievable! Ok, distracted again.

After Rosh Pina we had lunch on a tributary of the Jordan River and then went rafting. 6 people per raft and only 2 paddles; it was actually a lot of fun when we weren’t ramming into the banks of the river which were actually tree roots and prickly shrubbery (I have wounds). I did learn that cotton fields, in Israel, are irrigated with purified waste water much of which was splashed in my face during our rafting trip. Needless to say, I was more than thrilled to take a long, hot shower once we arrived at Karei Deshe – our amazing hostel on the shores of the Kinneret. The room was spacious and clean and yes, the shower was hot! I helped lead ma’ariv services that evening on the beach and it think it went well.

Day 2, we were up early and off to Tel Dan – not really a direct relation to the theme of the “New Jew” but the director of HUC’s Archeology School agreed to meet us there and explain this very significant site. Established by the Northern Israelite Tribe of Dan where they actually built their own Temple Mount outside of Jerusalem during the Second Temple period. Archeologists also found a stone with an inscription referring to David’s Kingdom and it is the only mention of King David outside of the torah. Tel Dan is also a beautiful nature preserve with waterfalls and wildlife. We took a short walk through the main area but again, it’s a place to visit in the future. Then we were off to a Golan lookout point at Har Bental which also has preserved military bunkers that we were able to walk through. It was a spectacular view of Syria and Lebanon.

Continuing the Golan experience we met a resident who’s one of the official English speaking spokespersons defending the right of the Golan settlements to exist. Of course it began with a propaganda movie and then some amazing lobbying by the spokesperson. I definitely had a DC reaction to the presentation – while I disagreed with much of the message, the delivery was great, textbook lobbying 101 and I hope this person gets paid a lot to be such an impassioned lobbyist. We then debriefed in small groups before FINALLY heading back to the hostel for a BBQ dinner and singing on the beach. We were joined by an Israeli folk band consisting of a guitar player and an accordion. Good times had by all.

Day 3, I decided to eat breakfast outside on the beach. Our days were so jam-packed that we never returned to the hostel during daylight. I soaked up every second of those 30 minutes on the water, much needed serenity. First stop on our final day was Tel Chai, the Masada of the North where the pioneers would rather die than surrender. They are memorialized throughout the North and in the towns name: Kiriyat Shmona. We then went to Metualla – Israel’s Northern most city and looked over to Lebanon. I felt perfectly safe standing on the border even though Israel is on “high alert” and I think living in DC over the past 8 years has helped me relate (on a very small level) to Israel’s security issues. You can’t hide from terrorism and violence; you must continue living your life, go out and play basketball. Then we were off to meet with a psychotherapist who deals with trauma and the effects of PTSD which is a major problem in the North. After lunch we stopped briefly at the kibbutz where Naot shoes are made. We only had 20 minutes to shop and amazingly I didn’t buy anything – too much pressure – but I tried on many pairs! Our final visit was to the Kinneret Cemetery where people related to the first and second aliyah are buried. We had mincha and watched the sunset on the Golan, I know I’m not in the US but it was truly purple mountains majesty. By this point in the day, our bus driver was more than cranky and basically paced during the entire mincha service because we were running behind schedule. Israeli bus drivers are only allowed to work 12 hours at one time. I think this is a very good law but he was threatening to not drive us back to J’lem or just leave us on the road in Jericho. Thankfully, we made it home (with only 4 minutes to spare) safe and sound.

Back in J’lem, Amy and I have been enjoying break during sukkot. We’ve explored many interesting neighborhoods and taken lots of pictures of sukkot on people’s balconies and in their yards. And yesterday we spent the day in Tel Aviv. Today, we’re off to the Old City for more exploring.

It's So Beautiful When Things Make Sense

I saw my acupuncturist today. For those of you who don't know, I acquired an e-coli type bacteria about 6 weeks ago, went on antibiotics but apparently wasn't on them long enough because the bug came back. So now I'm taking antibios for 10 days and am feeling under the weather again. Cross your fingers that it works this time. Cipro kills anthrax but can't conquer Amy's GI bugs??? Let's hope it does this time. Anyway....

Several things happened during my treatment today that just blew me away and made me even more of a believer in the power of acupuncture. First she looked at my tongue closely as she always does. It was dry and a bit yellow, indicative of GI problems. I have had a really bad headache that won't go away for about 4 days now. I told her about it and that it is in my forehead. Some of the points in the forehead are related to GI problems, thus the headache (which by the way is so much better since my treatment). Then when she took the needles out of my forehead there was the slightest bit of blood coming from those teeny tiny needles. She wasn't surprised as GI troubles should cause heat in the forehead, thus the needles acted like teeny tiny leeches in that they were drawing heat to the surface (for those who are afraid of acupuncture, I just want to say that even with blood and needles involved, it really does not hurt and is so worth it).

Okay, so I admittedly butchered the language and descriptions of acupuncture in the above paragraph. The art of eastern medicine is not easy to learn and master, so that was laywoman's language at the very most. But you get the drift. Every pulse she took and point she treated and conclusion she made, made perfect sense. How many times are we blessed in our lives to be privy to perfect sense. For me, very few, but hopefully that will continue to change throughout my life. I laid on her table, feeling sick and tired and frustrated, and between her knowledge and expertise and my body's ability to communicate with her, just for about 30 minutes, it all made sense. How beautiful is that?

Language Schmanguage

*As I sit down to write this I fully acknowledge that if I would just get my butt into ulpan these things probably wouldn't happen*

Grocery Store

I had an appointment with my acupuncturist today, in Talpiot, an area where there are far more Hebrew speakers who don't speak English than in other parts of J'lem. I have never had difficulty at the grocery store there, Super Sol Deal, but I have never had my groceries delivered to my apartment from there. I had gotten big items that I really couldn't carry on my own such as cases of soda, a big bag of laundry detergent and a big container of fabric softener. It's hard to carry more than one or two 1.5 liter bottles of soda from the grocery store and up 4 flights of stairs. I got other random food items, some of which were cold or frozen that I took with me in my own bag.

When I got to the checkout lady I said "delivery" in Hebrew -- my acupuncturist had written how to say it phonetically correct before I left for the store. I had no idea if I was supposed to put food in the delivery box myself or if someone who works there does it for me. So I started loading the cases of soda and putting the food items in the box, and then the cashier started talking a mile a minute to me in Hebrew -- it appeared she wasn't happy about something. The only thing I could understand was that she was telling me they wouldn't deliver my groceries. Now it took me asking several people when I got there if they speak English whether or not delivery is an option and if I have to spend a certain amount to qualify for delivery (like it is with another grocery store) -- I got an affirmative answer so I knew this woman was confused. We then proceeded to have a bit of a standoff --this was something neither of us wanted -- we just had no choice but to speak to each other in our native language and not understand what the other was saying. So it may have looked standoffish, but I was being as kind and polite as possible. After all, I am in a foreign country where I do not know the language, and I always feel a little guilty for not speaking Hebrew, especially in a situation like the grocery store.

Thankfully there was a very kind Israeli woman behind me in line who ended up being our translator, helped at times by other store employees who thought they spoke English but didn't really do so. So the cashier was told that I want delivery and that seemed to make her happy for a while. I was shown by our translator how to pack the delivery boxes, and meanwhile the cashier was keeping busy with paperwork. I had a few bags of food that didn't fit into the box, so the cashier's response to me was again that my food can't be delivered. My niceness was wearing thin at this point and I asked the translator to tell the cashier that I cannot take all of this food home and that I'll have to waste everyone's time refunding everything. Apparently Israeli's aren't patient, well, we knew that already, because when they asked me if I could wait a few moments until an empty delivery box turned up, I said yes, and they seemed shocked by this. I was just happy that the delivery process was continuing. When it came time to get my name, address and phone number, craziness emerged again. Translator wrote it down in Hebrew for the cashier and delivery guys, but the problem came when they asked me to explain exactly where I live. Imagine explaining the following in English to people who only speak a little English: our address is 22 Jabotinsky, but there is no entrance there; pretend that you're standing on Jabotinsky in front of 22, and notice that there is no entrance or any doors; so now imagine that you have to go to the back door, at which point you start going down M'ndele, the street that our entrance is actually on; now walk under the apartment building that is in front of you to the courtyard, where you have to look really hard for the hidden walkway to Entrance 10, our entrance, and then walk to the top floor and you will find our apartment. They always demand our address, and I always say that it is not helpful and is quite confusing, but they always demand it in the end. As I sit here and write this I am dreading when my cell phone starts ringing because the delivery guys can't find my apartment and are speaking to me in Hebrew while I speak back in English. Translator wasn't helpful at this point but only because she was trapped behind my shopping cart and couldn't engage in said conversation. Things finally seemed in order but was asked one last time for my contact information. The man said they would call if they get lost, and I smiled nicely and said I'll be waiting. I lurked for a moment while some poor man who only was buying a bottle of soda and had probably been waiting for too long checked out because I wanted to thank the translator. The cashier was looking nervously at me out of the corner of her eyes, but all I wanted to do was thank the translator and apologize for keeping her held up. She was very nice in return.

Taxi Cab

I wish I had brought translator with me on the cab ride home. I took a cab out to Talpiot earlier for my appointment and the cab driver suggested 20 shekel as a fair price. Seeing as how I was totally and knowingly, but in too much of a hurry to care, ripped off the day before when I paid 20 shekel to go half as far, I happily agreed and all was good. When I left the grocery store, there was a cab right there and the driver told me he could give me a ride. I hopped in, he started driving, he suggested 35 shekel and I said nope, that I had paid 20 earlier, he said 30, I said nope, that I had paid 20 earlier, and he stopped the cab and told me to get out. Fine. I was really growing frustrated at this point. I decided that because the area I was in, right around the Hadar Mall, is always so congested with cars and people that I would walk a ways up Pierre Koenig until things thinned out and grab a cab then. I did just that and got a cab right away. I got in and he immediately turned on the meter (this was good), and he asked me where I'm going. When I said 22 Jabotinsky he said that he doesn't speak any English, what is it in Hebrew. Um, Jabotinsky is how it is said regardless of the language -- it's just spelled a lot different. He asks me to write it down, so I did, "22 Jabotinsky," and showed him and he again said in Hebrew. I just kept saying Jabotinsky, confused as to how he doesn't understand my saying the word and by he not knowing a major street in J'lem and be a cab driver. He called a friend on his cell phone, said something and handed it to me. I assumed his friend spoke English -- wouldn't you? I said hello and he asked where I'm going, I said Jabotinsky, he says he doesn't speak English. Tell me why the cab driver would call someone to talk to me who doesn't speak English. At this point we are getting closer to the major intersection and he calls another friend who again was no help at all. Out of desperation I started saying major street names that are near where I live, and he recognizes those of course, but not mine, and then proceeds to drive up one of them. Only then does he say he knows Jabotinsky which is of course now very difficult to get to. I immediately told him I would only pay him 20 shekel as I looked at the meter that was almost to 20. He starts getting really angry and muttering under his breath about money, money, money, as though he doesn't care about it himself. We drove towards and ended up near Ben Yehuda, a good 15-20 minute walk from my apartment before circling around and coming back down. He was so angry and at this point I was right there with him. He is yelling at me and asking how I don't know Hebrew. I responded that if you are a cab driver in J'lem you should know basic English and how the heck do you not know Jabotinsky!!! He was driving far too fast for this particular street, and I told him to turn on the street that is parallel to mine, I was just going to get out and walk the rest of the way. He went around a little park and then got on the wrong street which caused me to yell a little. He then went off in Hebrew, I said to him that I don't understand him but God does, and demanded he stop the car which he did at a screeching halt. I threw my money at him, said "todah robah expletive expletive (thanks a lot expletive expletive)" and got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as I could. He literally peeled out and what I found hilarous was that by driving straight for about a block he would run into Jabotinsky. I had to walk about 5 minutes and was so angry that even with my being sick and tired I made it up our 4 flights super easy.

4 guys literally just got here with my groceries 5 minutes ago as I write this. I was surprised that I never got a call, so I asked the guy who I knew spoke some English from the store if he had any problems and he said yes. Big surprise. I asked what was confusing and he said that it was because our entrance is not on Jabotinsky and instead off a side street. Didn't I try to tell him that at the store? And he of course acted like it was my fault. Ugh...Israelis.

Is there a moral to this long story? Of course! Amy needs to learn some Hebrew. Or, better yet, Amy needs to find "the translator" and hire her for 10 hours a week. That's plenty of time to get all of my errands done :)