Day 7-8. Tel Aviv & The Galilee.

This is a belated blog that I wrote earlier this week but haven’t had a chance to post yet…more blogs to come of my last few days in Israel, so stay tuned.

~*~*~*~*~

Day 7: Tel Aviv.

Part 1: Boker tov-ing to HamBoker.

I decide to go with the “Best Brunch Restaurant” recommendation that I read about the night before in the latest version of the Time Out Tel Aviv magazine [English edition]. Though Gili’s at the Tel Aviv Port sounds really tempting – the steak I had there in September was very tasty – I decide to try something new. I end up cabbing over to Benedict, where brunch food is served at all hours of the day. There are two locations of Benedict, and I go to the location at Rothschild & Allenby because it’s closer to where I will be hanging out. The line is crazy long at 11 am, but my solo presence allows for me to skip ahead of other couples / groups.

I order a coffee, crack open a newspaper handed to me by the Jewish-British couple sitting next to me, and catch up on the at-the-time bombing of the UN warehouse in Gaza and pending ceasefire negotiations. It’s good to know that Ban Gi Moon is in Israel to help see this conflict put to rest.

I have a great morning socializing with my spunky waitress while nibbling (more like devouring) my HamBoker. It’s a spin off of an American hamburger in name only*, not so much in the ingredients nor the way in which it is served. I have been to a lot of brunch places in Chicago and SF, but I think Benedict has now trumped the others and is my new favorite brunch place.

*Boker tov means “good morning” in Hebrew.

Part 2: Arts & Crafts Market.

As many of you know, I love crafts. So naturally, I hit up the arts and crafts fair at Nakhalat Binyamin, which I missed the last time I was in Israel because it is only open on Tuesdays and Fridays. I wait for my coworker, who is meeting up with me to peruse the artisans’ stalls.

We begin the slow walk through the different stalls. Towards the end, I find items that I like. I end up getting a few postcards from a local photographer because the prints are too large for my luggage. I also find a birthday present for a friend and a cool bracelet for myself. Following the normal and expected Middle Eastern custom, I negotiate with the craftsman. But a part of me feels bad. The craftsman gives me a small discount of 10 NIS, which is < $3, but I don’t push it. Both of the pieces I select are unique and handmade, and I know this same stuff would cost at least 30-40% more in the States at a trendy boutique. Speaking of crafts…I can’t wait to sign up for more classes in SF.

Part 3: Sheinkin.

My coworker and I wander a few blocks over to Sheinkin, where the vibe is very similar to that of my neighborhood in SF. We pop into a couple of stores, and I end up going again into the store called Scoop. This time, I find a really cute skirt and luckily they’re having a sale, so I end up getting two different colors of the same design. I know that what seems cool or stylish in one country might not be the case in another, but I feel like these skirts are okay to wear (all the while maintaining a bit of a unique, international flavor).

Sababa. “Cool” in Arabic.

Part 4: Neve Tsedek.

My coworker heads home, and I decide to go on a long walk. It’s mid-afternoon, and I know that all the stores and businesses will soon be closing for the start of the Sabbath. The weather is absolutely beautiful – around 70-75 degrees with a soft, cool breeze, which is especially refreshing by the beachfront.

I decide to walk through the fruit and veggie stands of Ha-Karmel (Carmel Market) on my way to Neve Tsedek, the oldest quarter in Tel Aviv that has a charm of its own. The Arabic-style homes in Neve Tsedek contrast to the Bauhaus architecture that give Tel Aviv the reputation as a “white city.” Along the way to Neve Tsedek, I pass by the Intercontinental David Hotel, which towers over Hasan Bek Mosque. I see the beach nearby, so I decide to stroll over for an enjoyable detour.

Here are some pics I took during the day and of my walk:



Part 5: Dinner with the locals.

After Neve Tsedek, I head back to the hotel to relax and rest up my sleep deprived self before heading out to a dinner party with a few of my co-workers. I am invited to my coworker’s for a dinner at 9 pm, not too late by Tel Avivan standards. I walk from my hotel to my coworker’s apartment on Ibn Gabirol near the Museum of Art. I take my humble bottle of Saslove red wine that I bought earlier in the week. Humble because it just doesn’t compare with the South African wine that we have with our South American meal prepared by the girl from Uruguay.

Uruguay, Russia, the U.S., the U.K., Yemen, Israel represented at the Ikea table. We wrap up dinner with a chocolate dessert prepared in a poyke and some sort of bread (maybe banana nut?). Both desserts are prepared by my male coworkers, and I am honestly impressed with their baking skills. The men in my family have never baked or really cooked anything, so it’s a bit foreign to me. Yet, I find foreign to be really nice.

Day 8: The Galilee.

Part 1: The Croat.

It’s early morning. The tour group drives to northern Israel (the Galilee region) along the West Bank border, and we pass by an Arab community. Our guide tells us that the only people required to serve in the military in Israel are the Jewish and Druze communities. Others, including Arabs, are exempt.

I am sitting next to a young (quite attractive I must say) guy from Croatia. He is in Tel Aviv for work as are most foreigners. The only words I can understand are “traffic signals,” but looking at him in his Euro-trendy clothes, I figure he’s a civil engineer and less likely a guy in construction. Mario doesn’t know a lot of English, so for the most part of the ride, we remain silent.

We drive by the kibbutz located at the bottom of a large hill. The kibbutz is known for raising a pig farm, which serves the Christian community in Israel and the U.S. military fleet stationed in the Middle East. We drive up the hill and arrive in Nazareth. Mario and I get off the bus and walk side by side up to the Church of the Annunciation and the Church of Saint Joseph’s Carpentry along with his Croatian coworkers and the others in the tour group. I sort of point at his coworker and communicate with hand gestures that he is extremely tall. I am just a little taller than his coworker’s elbow. Mario says “normal in Croatia,” and I am stunned.

The rest of our day, Mario and I communicate through unspoken friendliness and gestures.

Part 2: Holy Sites.

Regardless of whether you are religious, Israel has a lot of holy sites that are worth visiting. Religion (Jewish, Muslim, Christian / Catholic) is obviously a large part of Israel’s history and culture, but I don’t think you need to understand it to know or appreciate the holy land. I have met many travelers visiting Israel just because. I hope one day you come to Israel to see the country and holy sites for yourself, but in case you don’t get that opportunity, here are some pictures:



Part 3: The Nigerian Man.

A Nigerian man approaches me as I am wandering in the courtyard of the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth. He asks if I am Korean, sharing that he had seen me take a picture of the mosaic that was sent on behalf of the Christian Church in Korea. The Korean mosaic is one of many mosaics donated to the Church of the Annunciation by countries that have Christian followers. The mosaics are on display along the circumference of the courtyard, the same courtyard in which Mary was visited and told by the angel that she would bear a son named Emmanuel (Jesus).

The man of about 40 years of age shares that he and the Nigerians with him are on pilgrimage to the holy land. Interesting. I didn’t realize that Christianity was that prominant in Nigeria. He comes over to me just to wish me well on my journey, engulfs my left hand in both of his, and says, “Sister, God bless you.”

As we sit in the pews at the Church of the Annunciation, I can’t help but notice the Nigerians who are fervently praying. I honestly haven’t seen anything like that, even at the churches I have attended in the United States. It’s a unique experience and a mental image I plan to carry with me, along with the Nigerian man’s unexpected warm-hearted blessing.

Part 4: The Man I Mistake as a Priest.

We go to the Jordan River to the site where Jesus was baptized. Many Christian and Catholic believers come from all over the world to be baptized at this same site. The woman from Minnesota asks if I want my picture taken and says I should let the man from Mexico bless me with the holy water. So I do.

He and I crouch down, and he blesses me in Spanish in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I ask him if he’s a priest, and he smiles and explains that Catholics can bless others without being a priest. Oh right, woops. He says he works for an Israeli company, and I ditto him and tell him where I work. Ironically, he says he had recently interviewed for my company for the LATAM VP position that I actually support now. Small world, huh?

I still can’t believe that I was blessed by a man who could’ve potentially been someone with whom I work.



Part 5: The Language of Music.

The countryside is always refreshing, and I enjoy venturing off and meeting new people. But after a long day, I am glad to sit on the bus and head back to Tel Aviv. Somehow, I find myself waking up to Jay Z’s “Hard Knock Life.” I see Mario’s head slightly nodding to the music. I try not to smile too much, so I turn my head and stare out the window as we drive along the highway.

When we arrive in Tel Aviv, some of us are grouped together to share cabs back to our respective hotels. I end up with the Croats, but I don’t mind after having spent the whole day with them. I climb into the cab sitting next to Mario. Throughout the whole ride, we don’t say anything. The cab driver turns up the house music and then a couple of familiar songs are played on the radio. “I Believe in You” by Kylie Monogue and “That’s the Way Love Goes” by Janet Jackson. I can’t help but notice Mario’s head bobbing up and down again in the slightest bit.

While I don’t know Croatian and he doesn’t know much English, we at least share a common understanding of the same music.

[To be continued]

Day 5-6. Ordinary People.

12:30 am Israel time. I just woke up from a mini-nap that I didn’t realize I was taking until just a few minutes ago. Must’ve been tired. I’m sitting here listening to that John Legend song, “Ordinary People,” and I want to share the stories of some extra-ordinary people I have met during my trip that have taught me something new or made my trip interesting in some way. Let me introduce you to…

A Manager I Know
She’s a manager at my company, and we are grabbing lunch together in the cafeteria. We talk about the movie, Waltz with Bashir, which I had seen the other night. Talking about the movie reminds her of her childhood memories and of the Lebanon War. In particular, she recalls her own feelings of fear that one day she would see her father’s name displayed as a casualty of the war on tv. During our conversation, I notice she is talking openly and pretty nonchalantly as if she has accepted these childhood memories of war as being a normal part of her life. From an American perspective, I can’t even imagine what that type of fear feels like. And, if I think about it, there are children currently in Israel and Palestine building the same childhood memories that she did as a child.

The Cat-Hating Squirrel Lover
I met her on my last trip to Israel. She’s spunky and full of energy. She travels the world, sometimes alone. She’s got an adventurous spirit, and you don’t have to spend much time with her to see that.

We’re talking about squirrels in the States and how some of our team members find them to be the cutest creatures on earth. Squirrels don’t exist in Israel. I never realized or ever thought about a squirrel being anything other than roadkill or Max’s nemesis at home.

I mention that I’ve noticed there are street cats ALL over Tel Aviv. Cats are everywhere and are Tel Aviv’s version of roadkill and pests. She hates them. Apparently, during cats’ mating season (whenever that is), they make an awful screeching noise in the streets that carry on into the night. She says you can hear the sound through the windows and it never ends. I cringe and have the reaction of nails on a chalkboard. I have a new appreciation for squirrels.

The Software Developer
She’s shy and is showing me how to run a report in the system. She lives near Jerusalem and commutes into Tel Aviv every day for work. Her boyfriend lives in southern Israel somewhat closer to Gaza, and travels past Tel Aviv every day for his work. I ask how they meet. They were both programmers when they met in the military. Her story seems cuter as she talks to me bashfully.

The Office Security Guard
He tells me he’s never been to the States because he’s been denied a travel visa twice. It’s hard to get a travel visa, he says. Work or student visa is different.

Apparently, a lot of Israeli young adults visit the States after finishing their mandatory military service. Some go to travel and others go to earn under-the-table-cash as furniture movers, paint sellers, Dead Sea product sellers, etc. After earning money, they go off to Latin America to travel and spend the few thousands of dollars that they have earned.

The Builder & The Architect
It’s 10 pm, and I decide to grab dinner at Brasserie. The owners of Brasserie also own Coffee Bar (my favorite place so far), and I want to see how the two compare. I get to Brasserie thinking that my chances of getting a seat are decent since I am getting there late. I end up sitting at the very end of the bar because the restaurant is hustling and bustling with no open tables. As I settle into the stool at the bar, my right elbow keeps bumping into the wall. I order coq au vin and a glass of red wine from Flam Winery. As I wait for my meal, I decide to read my book, The Five People You Will Meet in Heaven. My roomie (if she’s reading this) is probably wondering why I still haven’t finished that book. My excuse is that I have been busy.

The guy sitting two over from me speaks over his girlfriend and asks where I am from in the States. He had heard my accent when I was ordering food. We’re two very different people. He’s the self-admitted “loud guy from NYC,” and I’m the low-key girl from San Francisco reading her book while sitting in a trendy hot-spot in a hoodie. At least I was wearing a pseudo-trendy shirt…more like Euro-style shirt from Spain that I intentionally brought to Israel. I never wear it but I thought I could get away with it in a foreign country.

He owns a commercial building company that brings in more than $XXXM a year. He also owns a black AmEx card and lives in a $7k 1-bedroom in Chelsea. He never went to college, and he says the next time I am in NYC, I should contact him if I want to eat at a nice restaurant but can’t get through to the reservation line. He has hook-ups. Sweeeeeeet.

He is visiting his girlfriend, the architect. She’s Israeli but used to live in NYC for 10 years. I especially like her. She’s strong and independent and loves her job as an architect. We talk about an architecture firm that I almost interned at in college (Perkins & Will). She and I connect on our family and work values, even though we’re both unmarried and without children. She hates the prissy, spoiled girls (e.g., the ones from Long Island haha) that feel entitled to luxury and snobbery. I don’t meet many of those types of girls in the Bay Area, but I agree with her. I don’t like that type of female breed. Somehow, I respect women with a level of commitment to success and achievement. Success and achievement can be defined differently for each person, but the level of commitment is so important.

[Pictured from left to right: His glass, her glass, my glass.]

Two Old-Time Military Buddies
The two Israeli men sitting behind us at Brasserie see that the two Americans and the Israeli girlfriend are having a fun time. The men are about my parents’ age. One of the men taps me on my back and asks if I’m Korean. How did he know?

He’s visiting the motherland and catching up with his old friend from his military days. He’s an anesthesiologist from Michigan and works with a lot of Korean doctors. His friend, the other man at the table, is the chief of the police force’s psychotherapy unit. Both served in the Lebanon War of 1982. The psychotherapist says Waltz with Bashir is accurately portrayed.

I think the anesthesiologist wants a Korean-Jewish daughter-in-law haha.

A French Wine Merchant
I walk to Azrieli Center from my office to check out my boss’s favorite Israeli clothing store called Scoop. Just outside the Center, I see a film crew shooting a woman walking down the street. I am definitely in the footage as I walk past the woman while she crosses the street towards me. I thought about being obnoxious and funny by busting out a fobby “V” sign with my fingers, but I decided to walk normally. However, if you happen to be watching some Israeli commercial or tv show, and you think you see me in my fleece Marmot jacket, then I am telling you that you really did see me.

At the Center, I see a wine shop, so I go in to peruse the shelves of reds and whites. I end up buying three reds, but seriously, I don't drink that much! I know, doesn't seem like it from my blog entries. :P

The Jewish wine merchant from France keeps insisting that I have to buy the Yatir bottle and that the Tulip bottle is not only very tasty, but also benefits a good cause. [The Tulip Winery employs people with disabilities.] He also recommends the Saslove bottle as a good bottle to have at dinner. I will take the Saslove to dinner at my coworker’s house tomorrow.

As a courtesy for being a good patron, I get a small tasting of Kentucky Bourbon. The wine merchant offers without me asking, to take a picture of me.

The Hotel Receptionist
She’s from northern Israel and is studying in Tel Aviv while working part-time. I ask if it’s too late to schedule a tour for Saturday. With the war still going on, I have decided to keep a safe, low-key weekend in Israel…hang out in Tel Aviv on Friday and then maybe spend the day in Galilee or Nazareth on Saturday where it’s safe. I don’t want to go anywhere close to south Israel.

Bethlehem would be a nice option, except it is located in the West Bank. Palestinian culture seems interesting and all…but…maybe I will take a raincheck this time. Galilee is further away, and most of my time would be spent on a bus.

No thanks. I’m going to Nazareth.

[To be continued]

Day 3-4. Random Stories.

As most of you get ready to head home from work, I’ve already taken off my earrings from Peru and contemplated how best to begin this entry. Unfortunately, I didn’t come up with a set determined method to write. My hair is still wet from the shower, so that gives me 20 minutes to regurgitate some stories from the last two days before I fall asleep. I wish I could start with today’s events first, but I will do justice to my commitment to blogging about my trip and write in chronological order.

~*~*~*~*~

Day 3: Team Outing.

Part 1: En route to dinner.

Amit and I are the last ones at the office. We’re on our way to see the boys on our team for dinner in Jaffa. All I know is that I’m trying cuisine/fusion food from South Africa (though I don’t believe it’s indigenous to South Africa), and I am excited to try something new. We get into a cab on Hasolelim Street to head over to the restaurant, but we ask the driver if he can stop at an ATM first so that we can pull NIS (New Israel Shekel). Amit and I step out at the first ATM machine, and I insert my card into the machine. The machine freezes and both of us stare at the black screen of death to see if we can make sense of either the Hebrew or English that appears. But nothing. Then beeping noises from the machine. Then I almost have a heart attack because that’s my card that’s getting sucked into a foreign ATM machine! After an infinitely long minute of the black screen (accompanied by a beeping solo), I hit the red Cancel button because I have nothing to lose at that point. Voila! My card returns to the safety of my purse.

Amit and I head over to a second bank and use the ATM machine there. Success! We get back in the cab and are back on our way to the restaurant. During the middle of the car ride, Amit calls her brother, who has been called to the reserves down in the south of Israel in case his battalion needs to go into Gaza. The government will match the same salary he is earning at his current job while he serves in the IDF (Israel Defense Forces), and he will be guaranteed his job when he finishes his military service.

Most likely, he will not need to go into the conflict zone, but my coworker still calls him to check in on how he’s doing. He tells her in a loving, brotherly way that she’s annoying him with her calls. As my coworker talks on the phone, I sit there and am reminded that while life goes on in Tel Aviv business as usual, there are still some reminders that Israel is a warzone at its core. Putting things into perspective, a 1- to 1.5-hour drive to Gaza is like a drive from SF to my parents’ home in the South Bay.

Part 2: Poyke.

Poyke is the name of the restaurant in Jaffa, and it’s named after the South African food that’s made in a steel cauldron. Apparently, it’s a fad in Israel and one that I hope makes its way over to the States – if not, then I’m definitely going to try it when and if I ever make a trip out to South Africa. We had a bottle of red Leopard’s Leap wine with our dinner. Proceeds from the wine sales go towards a conservation campaign for leopards, so if you want to drink for a cause or you love animals, I recommend this label. I finished off my steak sirloin meal with a chocolate dessert that was served in a cute little poyke. It was delicious.

In case you’re still wondering what poyke is, you can search for it on YouTube. You’ll find a video of a dude and his friends (the dude’s in his briefs, which is why I thought I’d spare him the embarrassment of posting to my blog) making poyke on the beach.

**As a sidenote, I love that feeling of making barbeque or stew with friends. It might be ghetto, but ghetto is tasty and legit. For South Africans, it’s poyke. For Koreans, it’s barbequing over a grill. Good thing I had a ssam party right before I left for Israel. Yummy = samgyupsal (bacon) + chadolbaeggi (beef) + instant kalgooksoo (noodles) + some soju + good company.

Part 3: En route to my hotel.

Being in Israel during this whole Gaza conflict is honestly not that scary. However, riding on a motorcycle operated by my coworker, Oded, is. I held on tightly as we sped along the freeway and winded through night traffic. Nothing like driving through the streets and passing by the beautifully lit IBM building in Tel Aviv.

Day 4: Random Thoughts / Anecdotes.

Part 1: Someday.

There’s a sense of familiarity being in Israel. I don’t know how to explain it – well I could, but there’s so much to say – I just don’t know how to explain it concisely I guess. I really wouldn’t mind living in Tel Aviv for several months if the opportunity arises in the future. Right now, it wouldn’t make sense with the WW economic recession and the conflict in Gaza. But hopefully someday…somewhere?

Part 2: Pleasant Detour.

I wake up early, hoping to get into the office before the others. I hop into a cab and ask the driver if he knows where Hasolelim Hamesh is located. He taps on his GPS and says he knows. Don’t worry. Okay, I think. 40 NIS later (normal rides to the office cost 20-25 NIS), I ask the driver if he knows where he’s going. After rolling down his window twice and consulting with two different drivers on the street, we finally get to my office. Not all drivers try to rip you off; this one gives me a discount and says in English, “I’m sorry.” He repeats himself three times, so I feel bad for his incessant apologizing. I honestly didn’t mind the detour all that much. I got to take this picture of the Azrieli Towers – one is circular, triangular, and square. They are the tallest buildings in Tel Aviv.

Part 3: I Heart Heritage.

Today, I ask my coworker, Alon, if he can help me find a movie theater playing Waltz with Bashir with English subtitles. He says it is playing at the Lev Cinema. Lev means “heart,” and I ask him if it is the same lev that appears in the first part of a two-word surname of someone we know at work.

Alon also has a two-word surname, and he shares how he got his name. Back when the older generation of his family was living in Russia, Russian law mandated that the first son of each family serve in the military. As a result, many families consolidated their names so that together, the two families would only have to send one son from their combined household. Hearing this confirmed my belief that everyone has an interesting story to tell.

Part 4: Flea Market at Dizengoff Center.

Blech. I missed the flea market. All the stalls were closed by the time I got my feet to walk in heels over to the flea market. Good thing I got to visit the flea market in September 2008. I bought a Hamsa necklace and a couple of Hamsa charms to make into earrings.

Part 5: Waltz with Bashir. Lev Cinema within Dizengoff Center.

Definitely deserving of the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language film. Underneath this animation, is a heavy autobiographical account of a man’s experience in the Lebanon War of 1982. The 9:45 pm showing was pretty much sold out, and I was probably the only foreigner watching the movie. I bet people were wondering why a random Asian girl would be watching a movie alone, let alone this particular movie. It’s definitely loaded with a lot of cultural and religious references that I’m not fully educated on nor ever expect to fully understand.

In recent weeks, I’ve read up on the historical struggle between Palestinians and Israelis, but I haven’t read enough about the Lebanon War to know too much about what actually happened. If you plan to watch the movie, I suggest you read up on the Lebanon War and do some research on Bashir so you have context before watching. Though animated, the movie is definitely not appropriate for kids (some nudity). To me, it was as if it were a live-person drama. If I had to take a guess, I would think that the director first interviewed the actors and then fit the animation to accompany the voices and the stories being told. But I'm not an expert and am too tired to research how the movie was made.

Go see the movie. It was worth the 35 NIS I paid for the seat-assigned ticket. Theater 4, Row 8, Seat 5.

Okay, that was more than 20 minutes.

Time. For. Bed.

[To be continued]

Day 1-2. Shalom from the Holy Land.

Part 1: En Route To Israel

“Hangook saram immniggah?” A Korean halmuni asks me if I’m Korean. She reminds me of my own grandmother on my mother’s side…something about that short permed hair, collared shirt that’s buttoned up to the very top, and friendly smile. I was really glad she came up to me because I had just been thinking (and slightly worrying about) my own grandmother, who was making her way on a last-minute flight to Chicago for my great-grandmother’s funeral at the very moment I was standing in the Delta terminal.

The halmuni is on my flight from SFO to ATL and doesn’t understand enough English to know when her zone group is boarding. She asks if I can help. In the meantime, she smiles at me and asks me where the “haksang” (student) is going. I was less surprised that she called me a student since I probably did look like one wearing my college Pumas and carrying a Camel Pak and Herve tote. I was actually more surprised that she assumed correctly in that I was Korean. Regardless of where I am and especially in San Francisco, I always get spoken to in Chinese even though I “look really Korean”.

In the limited Korean that I know, I spoke with the halmuni about my upcoming trip to Israel, a country that she visited herself three years ago. She patted my shoulder and said, “moosupdah” (scary). It was kind of the same reaction my parents had when they gave me a hug before I left for SFO.

I helped the halmuni onto the plane and settled myself into a seat next to the Silicon Valley man from Hewlett Packard who was also on his way to Tel Aviv. The last time he went to Tel Aviv, Israel was at war with its neighbors in the 2006 Lebanon War. 4-5 hours later, I was in Atlanta waiting for my connecting flight to Tel Aviv. Some random observations about Delta Airlines & of my in-flight experience:

• Atlanta hub is really unimpressive, especially the international wing
• Listened to the Global Grooves music channel on the way from Atlanta to Tel Aviv and was utterly confused when I selected BoA’s “Made in Twenty” CD and heard Japanese words being sung
• I like the songs: “I Stay in Love” by Mariah Carey, “I Wanna Be” by Chris Brown, & “It’s Over” by John Legend
• I don’t like this because it’s sort of an awkward ballad: “Why Does She Stay” by Ne-Yo
• Delta has the best in-flight security video EVER. Held my attention and made me ask myself, Did that guy’s tooth just dink? Watch here.
• Delta coffee sucks
• Per Israeli regulation, everyone must be seated once entering Israeli airspace and within 30 minutes of arrival

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, there were no aerial sightings of the airstrikes or missile attacks.

Part 2: What did I do during my first 24 hours?

In order of occurrences:

1. Almost got ripped off by the taxi driver as we drove from Ben Gurion Airport to my hotel in Tel Aviv. By law, taxi cab drivers are required to use the meter, but my driver ignored that law and wanted to charge me a flat rate that was a lot more than what the Ministry of Tourism told me to expect. I gave the driver some attitude and instructed him to put the meter on per the humungo sign at the airport. I hate getting taken advantage of…grr.
2. Went to the bookstore across from my hotel to buy my neighbor’s kids Hebrew children’s books. Hebrew books are opposite of English books. Read right to left. Turn pages over from left to right.
3. Tried to prepare my agenda for Monday morning
4. Watched SKY News on TV for an update on the Gaza conflict
5. Fell asleep / woke up throughout the night
6. Dealt with a broken water heater and freezing shower in the morning
7. Read the Haaretz newspaper as the maintenance man fixed my water heater
8. Ate a kosher breakfast (no meat and dairy at the same table), but before sitting down to eat, an Asian couple starting talking to me in Chinese
9. Cabbed to the office and got asked out by my nice driver. He asked if I wanted to party with his friends this week since I’ll be in town for two weeks. Btw, by now, I’m pretty good at saying “Hasolelim Hamesh” (5 Hasolelim is my office’s address).
10. Brought my coworkers chocolates from Ghirardelli and Scharffen Berger. The peanut butter filled Ghirardelli squares were gone in less than an hour.
11. Talked about the Israeli animated film, Waltz with Bashir, at lunch. Thanks for the recommendation, AW!
12. Started feeling the jetlag mid-afternoon
13. Made plans to go out in Tel Aviv with my coworkers tomorrow =)
14. Went to Super Pharm to buy Israeli products and souvenirs for friends. Thought of you, Miss Hsu-per.
15. Went to the grocery store and bought a bottle of Golan Chardonnay. Golan Heights is a popular winery in Israel and has several labels, including Golan, Yarden, Gamla, and Tishbi. Israel is best known for white wines including Chardonnays and Sauvignon Blancs. However, I bought a nice bottle of red wine (Flam Winery), which you can order from http://www.israeliwinedirect.com/ if interested.

Okay, that was a lot, and I still have yet to share stories and pictures from my Israel trip back in September. But for now, I will stick to documenting and sharing my current daily experiences in Israel.

Sababa, which is Arabic slang for “cool.”

[ To be continued ]

[ Gulp ]

I leave in T < 4 days, and when I'm not distracting myself at home, I can't help but peruse CNN.com. This morning when I was speaking with my Israeli co-worker about FY2008, she pauses mid-conversation and turns her head away from her phone's mouthpiece to speak Hebrew with her boyfriend. Her muffled voice becomes clear again as she returns to the phone and explains she was just "catching up" on some news about a new bombing in Gaza. Wow, way to make me feel solid and confident about my upcoming trip to Tel Aviv, where I will be less than an hour's drive (~60-70 km) from the airstrikes that have killed 130 Hamas fighters to date (source: Google Maps & CNN.com).

I'm pretty independent, especially when it comes to traveling. Little phases me. I've had almost everything happen to me while traveling, except injury. During my last trip to Tel Aviv, I went baggageless for 24 hours -- don't fly Canada Air -- and had to arrive at HQs in my sweatpants. Additionally, during the same trip, I went to the emergency room for an incorrectly self-diagnosed food poisoning that ended up being a terrible (understatement) insect attack on my skin. I won't get into the details, but my boss and I spent an hour running through the hospital. Shivers up my spine as I recall the insect bites. Laughter out loud as I recall this ER fiasco, but a sigh for the scars that have been left on my legs as a result. I only recently broke the vow of never wearing skirts/shorts again because thankfully, the scars aren't so bad now.

I'm unsettled though not quite scared... Morever, I'm bummed that I have to bag my trip to Petra, Jordan -- my co-workers advise that I postpone until maybe the summer when things have subsided a bit.

I now feel less cliche by saying that I hope for peace in the Middle East.

Layla tov. "Good night."
(Courtesy of my Hebrew phrasebook that I bought at the used bookstore on Haight)

[ To be continued ]