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.

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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]