Raining on your parade

I know we need the rain. Really I do. I just don’t need it right now, though. The walk between my office and the train station was simply dreadful today. God is spitting down buckets of the wet stuff, and I cling to my umbrella for dear life while navigating sidewalks that were clearly not created with any serious thought for inclement weather, pedestrians, etc. The water on the sidewalk has a slight element of depth to it, and the angles, dips and irregularities allow for fast-moving streams and currents. It feels like the sluice gates of a mighty dam have been opened, and I discover for the second time in two days, much to my dismay, that my beloved, uber-comfortable black flats are not waterproof (note to self – get waterproof shoes), and my toes are snugly engulfed by a mushy, cold black mass that used to pass for socks. Thank God for my long, black winter coat, which Husband laughed at me for purchasing several years ago in London, telling me at the time that I would never use it. Let me tell you, it is one practical item of clothing, and I can’t imagine getting through the winter without it. Likewise for my new umbrella (second one of the season), which seems to be as strong as promised so far.

The rain has a funny effect on Israelis. Every year when winter rolls around (as it inevitably does, given the nature of time, seasons passing, etc.), we are hit with a form of collective amnesia and act as though it’s the first winter we’ve ever seen. It’s quite astounding, really. We forget how to drive in the rain, tending to use surrounding cars and other obstacles to stop in a manner not unlike the way we used to use the wall to stop at the roller or ice skating rink (think “slam! ooof!”). We are amazed when we hear about the old streets and housing being flooded in certain neighborhoods of Tel Aviv, despite the fact that these same streets and homes flood every year when it rains; you could set your watch by the predictability of it all. Every year we have these floods. Every year we see the poor homeowners on the news. Every year we hear the officials promising to do something about it. Anyone noticing a pattern here?

Of course, the flip side of all this amnesia is that we are all absurdly happy when the first rains of the season hit. Following the rise of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) becomes the national pastime, with each additional centimeter being cause for celebration. We also flock in great hoards to all natural water sources in order to watch the torrent of waters rushing by. When driving around the Northern part of the country on any given Saturday during the winter months (as long as there has been some rain), it is quite easy to locate these rushing water spots, for all you have to do is watch for the places that are absolutely packed with cars parked haphazardly, either just off the roadside or all along the shoulder. If you hit one of these, rest assured, you’ve found the water.

Aaah, yes. Winter in Israel is such a happy time. Rainy, cold and windy one day, sunny and warm the next. The Israelis going water and wildflower crazy, and reaching one’s destination successfully is often a hit or miss situation, as already bad driving takes on mammoth proportions, assisted by poorly designed roads and potholes that mysteriously come out to play, adding a touch of excitement to every ride in the car. And those of us with a penchant towards pedestrianism get to have even more fun, dodging the waters spilling onto the sidewalks from building gutters while simultaneously trying to avoid being the victim of a drive-by drowning as cars splash by. Can you feel my joy? Can you? But alas, we really do need the rain. One of the few issues on which all Israelis can actually agree, so who am I to be the drippy one, the wet noodle? Who am I to rain on anyone's parade?

Here come those clouds again...

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming

It seems that life in Israel is returning to normal, or whatever actually passes for normal in this neck of the desert. The Prime Minister continues to lay in hospital in a coma, in "serious but stable" condition, as they like to say (and, may I also take this opportunity to say how relieved I am that they have stopped giving us status reports regarding his urine output? I'm all for transparency in these cases, but frankly, that's just a little bit more than I need to know!), with no noticeable improvement as of late. As it begins to dawn on us all that it may take some time before we see any significant changes (if indeed, he ever does regain consciousness, cognitive and complex motor skills, etc.), we have begun to turn our attention to other events.

Once again, the political scene does not fail to entertain and keep us in suspense. Recent party elections in both the Likud party and the Shinui party have been most interesting, as veterans in both parties were shunted aside for newbies. Virtual unknowns have suddenly leapt to the tops of their respective party lists, producing notably different responses from party leaders. While Binyamin Netanyahu, is, according to news reports, quite pleased with the outcome of his party's elections, the same cannot be said for Shinui's Tommy Lapid, who is considering a split from the party he founded, following the ouster of Avraham Poraz from his traditional spot at number two on the party list. Recent elections in the Hadash party also produced surprising results, as old guard party member Issam Makhoul was beaten for the number two slot by newcomer Hana Sawid, the director-general of the Alternative Planning Center and former head of the Ilbon municipal council. From the look of things, it seems that Sharon's escape from the Likud party to form Kadima, followed by his subsequent stroke and unclear future have spurred Israeli voters across the board to make a clean break from the politics of yesterday, replacing experienced politicians with newcomers, and infusing us all with the hope that change for good is finally in the air.

Also in politics, it seems that Shimon Peres may be in for some trouble - or at the very least, some very public discomfort - over allegations of receiving improper campaign contributions when campaigning for the chairmanship of the Labor Party, back in 2004. I will be very disappointed if it turns out to be true, as I always thought that Peres, despite his inability to win, was above such shenanigans, one of the few true statesmen in Israeli politics. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how the story unfolds, and hope that everything works out as it should.

Politics aside, the Hebron settlers are up to their old tricks again, attacking members of the security forces and rioting throughout the city. According to the article on Haaretz,

"The settlers have clashed with security forces for several days over a court order to evict eight Jewish families who have occupied Palestinian-owned stores in the Hebron marketplace for years."

These radical hooligans must be stopped and punished, and punished in such a way as to deter similar acts from being committed in the future. Of course, I'm not actually sure that there is such a way to deter these self-serving individuals, who have no qualms about attacking either innocent Palestinians (including women and children) or members of the security forces who have been sent to this city in order to protect the settler enclaves. Their can be no justification for their thuggery or their vandalism, and there should be no compromise with regard to the government response to their actions, especially in light of their callous disregard for authority.

And, with regard to Israel's unofficial favorite winter pastime, the rains that drenched most of the country during the past week have allowed the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) to rise by a whopping two centimeters over the weekend, bringing it up to -211.60. Still more than two meters to go before we reach the upper red line, but every drop counts. Despite the havoc that these rains have wrought, as any Israeli will tell you (and any new immigrant learns during their first winter here), we really need the rain. Don't put your umbrellas and duck boots away just yet - still lots more fun to come throughout this week...

Chilly willy

Up until a few years ago, central heating was considered a luxury in Israel. With the exception of most housing in the Jerusalem area, whose high altitude brought biting cold winters that often included snow, most people made due with space heaters, portable radiators, gas heaters, coil heaters, and the like, which more often than not did nothing but take the chill off, if that. Our town has bitter cold winter nights, and before we put in our heating system, I was utterly miserable as soon as the weather turned cold. I hated the fact that it was colder inside our house than out, and rainy days were simply a form of torture, spent huddled underneath a blanket, whether it be in the bedroom or the living room. It was absolutely wretched. The feelings were that since winters were “short” (hardly!), it didn’t pay to invest in decent heating. Same thing held true for air conditioning for the summer months. What a load of crap! The best thing we ever did was to install our central heating and air conditioning system, making all seasons bearable and comfortable.

As far as I can recall, all of my work places have had central heating and air as well (which is also the case in most public buildings like shopping malls, hotels, etc.), and I can remember not wanting to leave the warmth of my office for the cold and damp of my home. How lovely to be all nice and toasty warm when it’s oh so nippy beyond the windows, to not have to wear multiple layers, to not be forced to sit in front of the computer wearing gloves.

There is one strange anomaly in all of this, though. For some reason, bathrooms in Israel are not heated, whether it be in homes or in offices. Sure, many people put up a little heater on the wall, but not everyone does it (especially in guest ½ baths, nor in our very small en suite bathroom, though our full guest bathroom does have one), and offices certainly don’t. “Makes sense”, you say. “How much time do you really spend in there?” you ask. I say bull. Call me crazy (and some of you already have!), but frankly, when it comes down to it, why would you not put heat in one of the few rooms (and hopefully the only room in your office) that requires you to remove clothing? A vexing question to be sure, one that drives me to distraction these days as I enter the refrigerator-like facilities, where one could chill wine quite nicely, were one so inclined to do so (though I might be inclined to question one’s mental faculties, were one so inclined as to chill wine in the restroom). Not exactly the environment that screams, “drop your drawers”, I dare say.

This morning, I had the distinct “pleasure” to run out of hot water during my shower, which doesn’t often happen, as I’m usually the first one to shower. Today I was third, and I paid dearly. Of course, what made it even worse was that we’ve got no damn heat in the bathroom, as it’s so small and the ceilings are so low that there’s no place to put up a heater! And then, after quickly toweling off and coming out into what should have been a warm bedroom, I was dismayed to find it somewhat chilly, Husband having turned the heat towards the living room (quick explanation – heating system is divided into regions, the living room/kitchen area is one and the bedrooms make up the other. There’s a dial in the middle that allows us to direct the heat between these regions, and it can never be at 100% in both. Get it?) so that he and the little one wouldn’t be cold (a perfectly legitimate act). In any case, who was I to deprive the little one of heat, just so that I could be warm? If I'm ready to give my life for him, I'm certainly ready to share the heat with him.

I suppose I should be thankful that we’ve at least got a timer on the water heater, so we don’t have to get up in the middle of the night just to turn the thing on. That’s another crazy thing. Water temperature in most places is controlled by a hot water heater. Ours is solar, so in the summer, we don’t usually have to turn it on, and can just let the sun work its magic. In winter though, you’ve got to turn it on whenever you want hot water, at least an hour before you think you’ll need it, so that the water has a chance to heat up. If you don’t have a timer, it can be a major inconvenience. Of course, the big problem here is that it’s quite easy to run out of hot water, and unless you’re prepared to pay exorbitant electricity bills to keep your water heated all day long, you’re going to find yourself repeatedly losing feeling in your hands every time you need to wash them. It’s an especially refreshing experience at work, as you wash your hands with ice cold water while standing in a room cold enough to chill wine, and you actually feel elation as you leave the bathroom to return to the relative warmth of the rest of the office.

The joys of an Israeli winter. When I bought my winter coat several years ago in London, Husband just laughed, claiming that I would never use it. Needless to say, it is one of the staples of my winter wardrobe. It can get surprisingly cold here (especially while waiting for the train at 7am in Northern Israel!), but having grown up in a cold climate (much colder than Israel!), I learned early on that you simply have to know how to dress in order to stay warm. Of course, all rules go out the window when it comes to the bathroom, where the layers must come off for the trip to be successful. In Norway, in addition to the room being heated, the bathroom floors are actually heated as well. In England, our towel racks were heated. For Israel, I propose a drastic, yet revolutionary measure – heated toilet seats, anyone? Perhaps I’m talking out of my ass on this one, but seriously, how great would that be? Definitely not a shitty idea, no sirree, Bob! Would just require a wee bit of design. Any engineers out there care to take this on? Come on now, don’t be sissies! The person who succeeds with this will surely make millions – definitely not a bum deal, eh?

Okay, enough is enough. I’ve made you laugh, I’ve made you groan. Suffice it to say, I’ve done my duty, and, feeling a little flushed, I think I’ll take my leave, before this post drains my mind any further. Hey, stay warm out there (and of course, in there)!

Where's Pa? Where's Gamma?

Whew! Parents successfully dropped at the airport (though admittedly, I have yet to hear whether they’ve arrived back home safe and sound, so I suppose it’s possible that they’re still at the airport, though I imagine they’d have called had this been the case). Two hectic weeks of running to and fro, here and there, and essentially, everywhere. I felt like a tourist in my own (albeit adopted) country, given all the sightseeing we did. Just to give you a brief rundown – the Safari in Ramat Gan, Mini-Israel, the Golan Heights and around the Sea of Galilee, parts of Tel Aviv, Caesarea, and Zichron Yakov. We visited beaches, parks, galleries, and festivals, and went to more restaurants than Husband and I manage to get to in a year. Speaking of restaurants, should you find yourself hungry while driving through the Jordan Valley towards Tiberius, I highly recommend stopping for a bite at “Tzel Hatamar”, a fabulous restaurant just North of the Peace Island of Naharaim, and across the road from Moshav Menahemiya. Food and service were both excellent (we highly recommend the salmon and the spring chicken), prices were reasonable, and the setting was lovely.

During the course of our travels, we managed to get together with family friends, do some shopping, and appear on television. Okay, if truth be told, it was only for a second, and it was only Husband and the Little One, but it was still pretty cool! We went to the Arts Festival at the Reading Power Station in Tel Aviv (following a terrific little meal at the Comme il Faut café at the Tel Aviv port), and while practicing to name the different facial features on a very colorful statue, a Channel 2 camera man filmed the two of them for a few seconds. Didn’t know at the time that it was Channel 2, but coincidentally managed to catch the story about the festival on the news that evening, and there they were! Husband’s sister called us straight away to say she’d seen it, but otherwise, it seems that viewership is down, as nobody else we know had seen it. If truth be known, we prefer the news on Channel 10, and just got lucky while flipping channels during the commercials.

And, as if all of this activity wasn’t enough, whenever we were home, especially during the last few days, parents were glued to either the television or the Internet, tracking Hurricane Wilma, and wondering if they should arrange for the windows of their home in Southwest Florida to be boarded up, while at the same time corresponding with my brother in Southeast Florida about the pros and cons of putting up permanent hurricane shutters. After several days of uncertainty regarding Wilma’s plans for South Florida, it seemed that while my parents’ home would miss the brunt of the storm, my brother’s home could take a more direct hit. I suppose that only time will tell, and we will be wiser (and perhaps somewhat battered) 24 hours from now.
So, as I look back over the visit, I think I’d have to say that aside for a few bumps, it was mostly successful. The Little One realizes (as much as a 17 month old can realize) that something is different around the house, and that his grandparents aren't around anymore. I ask him where they are, and he goes into the guest room looking, while raising his hands in his typical "I don't know" gesture and saying, "where's Pa?". This morning, he pointed at their pillows on the bed and made a shushing gesture, as if we didn't see them because they were still asleep. Very cute! The house is definitely quieter now, and aside from some new toys and clothes, you'd never know they were even here visiting.

Anyway, now that I've more or less returned to real life (and whatever that may entail), I imagine that my posts will reflect the change accordingly, and I shall return to my usual maddening, obnoxiously witty (with just a trifle of modesty!) self.

Memories of New Orleans

When I booked the airline tickets, I hadn't realized that my plans to visit one of my college friends in New Orleans coincided with the NCAA's Final Four basketball tournament, also taking place in - where else - New Orleans. I don't remember my flight to Newark, so I'm guessing that it passed rather smoothly. That all changed with the connecting flight to New Orleans, though. The flight was overbooked. Seriously overbooked. There were also other problems. I can't recall what they are (hey, this goes back more than ten years!), but I do remember that they were serious enough that they considered canceling the flight. I'm sure you can imagine how well that news went over with a large number of sports fans (a number of whom were bookies - one of whom, I had the distinct "pleasure" to sit next to on the plane. He was involved in a variety of card games for the duration of the flight). In the end, we took off, and I made it to New Orleans, several hours late, but I got there.

I remember it being a beautiful, exciting city, with lots to see and do. I can remember having coffee and beignets at the Cafe Du Monde, right by the French Quarter. I tried my very first (and last) crayfish in the colorful marketplace. One end of it is really spicy - wish I'd known that before eating it, though was pleased to be able to provide entertainment for the locals. The food in New Orleans was spectacular, and needless to say, I ate quite well.

I was only there for the weekend, but I can still remember what a vibrant city New Orleans was, and what a wonderful time I had there. This makes it all the more difficult to see the horrible images being shown on television, following the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina across the Gulf of Mexico. It is truly frightening to watch, and absolutely heartbreaking to hear the stories of loss. Who could have imagined such utter destruction, where so many Americans are suddenly turned into refugees? The scale of the damage is simply incomprehensible.

I've got lots of family on both coasts in Florida, and while everyone has been really fortunately so far, they are certainly no strangers to these monster storms. Aside from intermittent power outages and broken tree branches, my family in Florida got away scott-free this time around - a nice change from last year's battering, but nevertheless, having family in the hurricane-prone areas has turned me into an avid storm watcher, and I have seen with my own eyes what these storms can do. Last Winter, we drove from family on the West Coast of the state to family on the East Coast. It was already several months after the end of the hurricane season - several months since the last deadly storm. Yet, during this drive down the highway, we saw electricity poles that had been snapped in two, towns where all buildings still had blue tarp covering them, as the roofs had still not been repaired. We saw highway road signs that had been destroyed, whole towns that had been destroyed. It was an arresting sight, to say the least. And now, this all pales in comparison to the destruction wrought by Katrina.

I heard on the news this morning that the mayor of New Orleans is saying that people may not be able to return to the city for six months or so, and it is difficult to fathom. And of course, we shouldn't forget that it's not only New Orleans, but also big parts of the rest of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, parts of the Florida Panhandle, etc. It is difficult to make a connection between the beautiful, lively city I once visited and what remains of that city today. May the waters recede as soon as possible, may the destroyed cities and towns repair and recover, and may the South rise up and return to its former glory.