Yalla Balangan!

Yalla- arabic slang meaning 'lets go'
Balagan- arabic slang meaning 'a mess' or 'chaos'
Yalla Balagan, two of the most powerful Israeli words, that arent even hebrew. Meaning '!!lets go crazy!!'.
<To be used in any manner, form or environment. To be used wisely.>
I also learned the word for bathroom, which seems to be the same word as taxi. "sherutim". I think it literally means service, but its great to muddle up. The other word for toilet means "the house of use". All these ways and means of getting around stating the actual issue. Polite, politically correct. Like many things here.
Nothing is taken lightly. Racial jokes are not as amusing as in South Africa.

For a few days, very little happened. But I kept on keeping on, and eventually the weekend came around, as it does, a day earlier. As I had attempted to prepare myself before this journey, by Reading Dr Seus's 'Oh The Places You'll Go!' book, I knew that “All alone! Whether you like it or not, alone is something you'll be quite a lot!” But its still a bit harder that I'de ever thought. For those (two) of you using my blog to answer questions about your own forthcomming gapyears away, it is something I think I need to talk about. I skyped my best friend in South Africa, and had absoloutly nothing to say to her (becuase there was too much to be said), and our small talk brought the prickle of nearly-ears to my eyes. Because it was suddenly too much, to be able to talk to someone I needed to talk to. I'm on a balancing beam, where I havent yet lost my cool. Getting lost is sometimes fun, and watching people interact with the people in their lives is one of my favourite things to do. And commuting to work and back is always an adventure. And being myself in an unfamilar environment is what I'm here for. But sometimes, it is hard,you know. And sometimes I have to push myself to keep on keeping on. And to go out and Do, and Make, and Find, when all I might want to do is curl up and think nostalgic thoughts. But I kept on keeping on, and eventually the weekend came around, as it does, a day earlier.  Always something to be greatful for in the holy city.
Friday morning, at 5am I awoke. And considering I'de gone to sleep after midnight the night before, shit was getting spiritual already!

We went to a friday morning serive at the Kotel, the Wall, one of the holiest sites for the Jewish People in Israel. Its right by the Dome of the Rock infact, (one of the holiest sites for the Muslim People). I'll add pictures soon. The Wall is divided in half (and by half I mean if one half is more equal than the other) by a little wall, and men can stand and pray, and read Torah, and sing, and do anything they need to to connect to their Judaism, or G-d, or to study and learn and pray. The Womens side is for this purpose too, although they cant do things like read Torah or sing in the company of men. Here's the interesting thing for me about being in such a scandalous environment. On the one hand, its easy to be displeased by the policies of the country, but on the other, I am really inspired by the movements that work at righting the wrongs. That really do Do things, to make some change. Women Of the Wall, the organization that runs these women, demonstration services,is hella cool. And the whole thing was really fascinating. I was having a super religeous, spiritual experience; every time I looked up from my prayer book, there was this ancient wall, filled with the prayers of hundereds of thousands of people, a wall that had stood despite hardcores efforts to destory it, and there I stood, with all these Jews, reform, conservative, orthodox too, and probably even secular (there more for the cause, than the service). Really part of something. And at the same time, wasnt the religeous experience toned down by the fight; or the demonstration weakened by the incentive to pray...
We all fell asleep on each other on the bus on the way back to my side of the world
My sister and friend (the usual ones I spend weekends with) were to come and see my life for a change, and were spending Shabbat in Yavne.
It was lovely. Great food, good to be with my cousins (I'm finally getting really into this whole family thing.) They all teased/pittied us for being such boring such boring teenagers; not going out, being super-tired-and-ready-for-sleepies at 9pm. Some how even ended up drinking Arak and Vodka with my relatives. Maybe to try to provide us with some real teenage experiences? It was great.

And then, on the day of rest, we got our first rays of sunshine lying in the garden, watching the little cousin-toddles. Mmmmmm vitamin D boost-yalla balagan!

And eventually, out for adventures!

·         Ate icecream and frolicked in the sunset at the Tel Aviv Port. Its crazy how alive and hyped and ready one feels walking around the city on a warm day!

·         Then went to the actual sea. Took our shoes off. Played in the amazing seaweed-moss covered rocks. Orgasmic on the toes. Real Joburgers, go apes-shit at the sea. We were satisfied already. But more was to be done. Yalla, down Dizenghoff Street.

·         Saw the Sights. This was about a 2hour walk(now that I think about it) that I will defiantly do again, albeit alone. Its just amazing. The weird and wonderful things to look at along the way.

·         Stopped for a tiny bowl of soup at this super-trendy bistro. Took hours to order as we were practising our Hebrew, and befriending the waiter. (This is a trend, why are the only people I befriend people who are paid to serve me…. Hmm, something to worry about??)

·         Anwyays, it was delightful, and soon Shabbat was over, and the people came out and filled the streets.

·         We stopped at a supermarket or three. Purchased some food we could actually afford. Fruit, and a cake to go eat with out coffee. It was a brilliant idea, and we looked forward to this coffee. But it took its time in coming.

·         Pulled out the map again, to keep on track from Dizenghoff to Rothschild Boulevard, and just as we reached our destination, loud pumping drumming sounds hit us, and police lights flashed, and we ran to take a look.

·         A Protest! And one right up my alley. It was against deportation of children of migrant workers who were being sent back. It’s a huge issue, and one I will cover sometime here, when I’m less tired. We marched, and chanted, and even worked out what we were chanting. And met up with some people from work, who we walked back to Rothschild with. A long walk back, but a good one.

·         And so, hours later, the cappuccinos on the grass on the pavement were the best treat in the world. And a good way to close a lovely day.

Not your typical weekend, but a beautiful one nonetheless. Work Tomorrow. I'm not all that amped right now to go to work on a Sunday. This place yo,I dont know whether to love it or leave it

Unacompanied Minor down Rothschild Street

Today I went out on the town. Had beer, met some cute waiters, marched through the streets of Tel Aviv like I owned the place. I also got dumped over the phone, by a lesbo who had spent the whole of last week thinking about how she didn’t think about me. When I got off the phone I was entirely lost. And I didn’t have anyone to call obviously. But as I hadn’t really had a destination in mind, I eventually found myself exactly where I wanted to be. Rothschild Avenue, the street where the social protests took place last year. I didn’t splurge on icecream, even though the thought crossed my mind. Instead I madly marched around in search of beer. None was to be found. A million cute coffee shops (the very thing I live for), but not fucking beer. Eventually, after walking the entirety of the famous Boulevard I found just the place. Quaint, sedate, and friendly-from-a-distance. I got a Goldstar. My mom called. I told her I had taken myself out for a beer. She approved, being the independent feminist in an unhappy marriage that she is. It was still early, and I felt great already so I decided to keep exploring. This time, because I wasn’t looking frantically for a bar, I enjoyed the walk. I took pictures. There were people walking their dogs, people walking their dogs and babies, people walking their bikes, and partners, and dogs and babies. The dogs were all very prototype.  In search for supper, and having no drive for ice cream, I bought a punnet of cottage cheese, which I devoured using the foil lid as a spoon.  It was very symbolic. And then I went back to the cutest of all the cute coffee places, which had attracted my eye as I hurdled down there the first time because the endearing baristas smiled at me. It played old school music such as “Say a little prayer for you” and other great sing-alongs. We sung along. Me and the people behind the counter.  The sandwich guy kept giving me free things, because I may have asked one too many times ‘how much’ stuff is and he worried about me. It was all really nice. Soon lots of people, also flying solo, joined me at the bar (and by bar I mean the breakfast bar type thing alongside the tiny kitchen).  So, its ok that I still don’t know people in this country, I can just take myself out more often!  Sure, the appeal will eventually wear off, but by then I’ll be exploring forreals. I’m in a calm and forgiving mood now. Not quite sleepy, but I’ll get there eventually.  I’m excited for my adventures-to-come, grand plans for the weekend, and hopefully my free free time will be spent productively. My one co-worker/ maddie from the past is going to take us on amazing adventures to un-trodden territory. And I’m hopefully going to do all sorts of cool egalitarian demonstrations this Shabbas. Of course, I’ll write about it all. So hold your breaths.

Knots and Beurocracy

I think I'm getting dreadlocks. Not by choice, but I find them every now'n'again when I attempt to condition my hair. Maybe I should succumb to the congregations telling me to get them fo reals afterall, but then no one can ever run their hands through my hair.
The office was practically empty today because the skilled people were all off trying to save as many Sudanese as possible from being sent home. South Sudan (where Darfur is) has just won independance which makes goverments think its ok to deport EVERYONE, IMMIDIATLY to a country which has ...nothing. No food, no infrustructure or programmes in place. Sure, they're building it up, its hip hop happenin', but right now, people are starving, and if more and more people are dumped there simultaneously, life is going to be even shitter for them than it is now. Did you know that no one is considered a 'refugee' in Israel. Alot of their policy reminds me of South Africa actually, although the beurocracy is slightly more functional. Dont know yet if thats a good thing or a bad thing.
I've lately gotten very good at recognizing foreigners. It definatley because I am one in this country and the lost-and-confused look that I often catch on myself when I walk past the reflective surface of glass against a dark room is becomming easily identifyable. Today a Nigerian client needed to find the office and like I've said, communication over the phone is hardcore, whilst language barriers are less of an issue face-to-face. Eventually he asked me to come and get him because he couldn't understand my directions. After running out the office I realised I didnt know what he looked like, but after frantically searching through the crowds, the lost-and-confused expression was unmistakable.
I think I'm getting sick. I hope not. I had only just made a concious decision, as its now offcially my third week here,to make the most of everyday. Go out, tour, explore, experience, meet some frikken Israelis already. Also, I've been avoiding my need to be nurtured. But being sick isnt cool without nurture.
So its off to sleep now. I plated my hair to keep the dreads out of my face.

Singing in the Sleet and other Social Sircles

I think I'm scared of teenagers. I prefer old people, preferably really-old. But Old-ish will do to. I stayed with my South African friend in her flat in Jerusalem. -The same place I stayed before but this time my sister wasn't there as only the people doing the community-building programme "Etgar" now resided there. And it seemed that I was an intrusion on this community that they were attempting to build. They seemed cool enough, but didnt offer me breakfast. (And by cool enough, I mean I suddenly realize just how strong my sister and friends are to cope with these programmes. Living by oneself and having to make ones own supper, friends, plans, is a breeze compared to surviving steriotypical teenagers!)

But, I dont have to. Much. Except when I need to see my South Africans. Which is often. I'm having withdrawl sypmtoms already.

But it wasnt ALL bad. Its always the most fullfilling to my empty soul to see my people on shnat.

Existential crisis of the night was whether to spend the 20shekels I had on beer or icecream or waffles. The compromise was to share a beer and a waffle. Sharing, we discoverd, was something we had missed very much, being alone. All four of us South African gap-year types in Israel are alone, each on her own mission/program. But we all reunited for Shabbat at that flat(the one full of teenagers).

This is the South Africans, reunited

****

 I’ve just gotten home from my best afternoon ever so far in Israel.

Definitely the most Israeli day I’ve had so far

I was woken at midday by people shouting “its snowing!”.

We rushed outside, but had missed the snow. But it was really good to be outside. In the ever unwanted sunshine.

Today we ordered coffee in Hebrew, and watched the Isralites around us looking for a place to go on the shoybas. We then set off to walk around, and wait for the snow. Met an Orthodox American, spoke about different branches of Judaism, open mindedness, culture. Rocked up at an Ethiopian wedding by following where the pumping music was coming from. But then left in a hurry because the “snow” had started! We twirled around in the sleet, stuck our tongues out, ate the crystals off each others hair and sleeves. The American, (who said ‘dawg’ and nu ‘yawk’) continued to walk around with us. We realized soon that he looked like that guy (Gene Kelly) from Singin’ in the Rain. So we sung singing in the rain. Soon we parted ways with him, but I took my Kazoo out and we then REALLY started jamming. And we jumped in puddles, and got our warm boots all wet. And took pretty pictures of the “snow”. And played in more puddles. We have since sung all our SA songs, Nkosi sikelele, Shosholoza, the click song, and some jew songs, Lo Yisa Goy and everything that goes with it. And then we headed home. A Perfect shabbath nu?

***

By the time I had finished writing that we were LATE (ok, we were simply running Africa Time) to meet the American to go with him to this area only accessible by foot where we planned to find a group of Hippy Jews who gathered for Seudah Shlishi, the Third Meal that jew-folk eat on shoybus, traditionally with some edumacation or discussion thrown in. As we had lost our guide, we wondered around, semi aimlessly until coming to be lost in a eerie suburb, only accessible by foot, swarming with religious Jews, and, we soon discovered, pothead students. We had found our place. But not the exact location. After picking up a few stragglers along the way (I have a thing for making friends with middle aged men…?) we all spent the rest of the Day of Rest seeking out the house of Rabbi Shlomo Somethingorother. Whilst we never did get our Third Meal, it was a day well spent. I completed it in a lovely, atmospheric bar which played old school music where I pretended to understand the little witticisms which the waiter shared with me, in Hebrew, and received complimentary Arak when a cute but clumsy acquaintance of mine spilled beer all over the table.

Market Machaneh Yehudah. Its Legit

Minature Oranges and Pediatric Pyjamas

Yesterday I rushed to hospital with a baby. Today, a Russian man gave me a tangerine for Valentines day.

Happy Valentines-day Cyber Space. I celebrated by finally Doing. And let me tell you, there was Much to be Done.

I’m right now sitting on the bus on the way home. Love is in the air. A young man got the bus doors closed in his face and the bus reversed away, 13 faces watching this rejection. Simultaneously, a female soldier dressed in death coloured Khaki, sat down holding a deeply red rose in the hand that was not clutching her rifle. I’m happy to be going home early after a long couple of days. I haven’t been to Yavne for dinner since last week Wednesday! 

So again, lets work backwards. Today I was just busy doing work. My To Do list that I’ve been neglecting has gone over the page and I’m beginning to get a Stress-Bunny baby, haven’t had one of those since writing Exams…  But atleast it feels productive, like I’m not sitting on my butt at the office staring at e-mails, watching other more qualified people change the world. I’ve done two interviews, found 3 new volunteers, created  a database, incorporated the shelter project, planned a bi-monthly workshop, learned a sentence or two in Tigrinya, and helped refugees get around without language. To summarize; I’ve finally found Purpose in sitting on my butt at the office staring at e-mails, watching other more qualified people change the world.

This morning I woke up Super-early (like 8!) to rush off to the Hospital in Tel Aviv to check on my people. Public transport in this country works, but its super slow, and unreliable, and annoying. I left the house at 9 and got to the Ichilov Hospital at about 11. It took 20minutes manic running around to find the ward and then I could only stay for like 10 minutes before having to rush back to my Bus Station, late for work of course. Which is awkward as I had an interview with a woman who I’m sure was insane.

Last night was crazy. The good part is I went to a Hummus Bar with people from work, met my first real Liberal-lefty who is leaving tomorrow, and enjoyed good Limonana and Legit hummus. 

But lets start at 4:00. I contemplate going to buy food, and going to the loo, before the receptionist leaves. I’m not that hungry so I don’t. Ten Minutes later, when I’m sitting on reception, the office is empty and thus I decide that its ok to go pee. (the toilet there, for reader interest, is tragic.. everyone in the whole office can hear you pee. Especially during meetings or interviews.) I come back from that little endever and the office has filled to carrying capacity! Anyways I can now cut a long story short and tell you about the family who had come in.
They were Eritrian, spoke pretty much only Tigrinia and had a baby who's scalp was oozing and crusty. She needed medical attention, immidiatly but they were too late for the free clinic that refugees usually go to to be open. I went with them because whilst none of us spoke hebrew, atleast i spoke english, and as they are refugees, people werent going to listen to them or give them service. it makes me really pissed off. but anyways, it was quite the adventure. None of us knew where we were going, how to get there, or what to do onece we were there. I guess I was there for moral support and to nag the medical personal to hurry up and give them attention. The ARDC, where I work is truly amazing. The peoples there gave me all the instructions i needed and we also had a really helpful translator who spoke Hebrew, Tigriniya AND English and got us through the horrible reception. The doctors were really nice, but it was really intense to get through questions like 'when did the baby first get a fever' with the communication methods me and the young father developed. I guess it was just cos after spending so many hours together, waiting for this and that, we all developed anough patience to be able to talk to each other really efficiently, somehow. Except Luwam, the baby. She held my hand in the taxi on the way there, but when I visited this morning she almost started crying when I came. For her, I'm the bad one that put her in that prision and made people poke needles into her. But she looked so cute in her mini hospital pyjamas! I think she is the first baby I have fallen in love with. I have lovely baby cousins, and often see cute minature people who make me smile and stuff, but generally I'm not a baby person. I dont get it, I dont talk in baby voices and gurgle back and go weak at the knees when I see babies. But Luwam is a gangsta baby. And also the most beautiful child in the world. even when her head is covered in pus. After getting through many channels at the hospital, nurse, doctor, dermatologist, blood test, etc etc etc, all without hebrew, it turned out a) that we'de spent 5 hours at the hospital and it was still not go-time, and b) that I'de had an intense experience where I learned some Tigriniya as well as non verbal communication, I learned about the family, the baby, soccer, the medical system.... And it had been really scary. My phone started running out of battery and airtime. I didnt have any cash(so someone from the office gave us some for the taxi there, but i worried about getting back). I had left my laptop at the office and people were leaving as it got late, I really worried about the legal thing, should i let them give their names and addresses, I know they wont be able to pay, can they be arrested or something, it was really scary and my support system was dying with the phone battery. But also, I had spent hours sitting in comfortable silence, smiling at a 3year old. Crazy stuff. My Eritrean family. I love claiming them when I go visit at the Hospital. "are you with them" hells yeah!

Ok, I know that was a really long story which is of less relevance to anyone who isnt me. But I feel like it was important for me.

Lots of new stuff going on at the office. But i'll tell further when they are more concrete. My parents keep calling me to tell me to call all my awkward racist relatives... Guess I'm going to have an interesting next two weeks...

So, the day of love is now officially over, it was average, I ate alot of chocolate. and that Tangerine.

Shots of Soup for the Soul

Week Two in the Land of Milk and Honey

I’m on a train from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. Got home last night at 5 and woke up at 9 to get to work at 12, yet I still ended up running (gracefully, like a graceful lamb. That trips sometimes) and nearly missing the train that winds its way around the mountains of the country. I wish I had energy to stay awake and appreciate the mountains.  Jerusalem, as expected, was amazing! In my 3 nights there I had experiences an impressive range of Israeli beer and cuisine, rendezvoused with my cousin who’s the only one of my generation in my family who’s similar in age and interests to me (the others have babies and husbands…). With her I went to an over 22 bar. It’s crazy that even though I’m legal and all I STILL can’t get into the good places alone.  Jerusalem’s party-street is overflowing with foreign youngsters, 18year old Americans who don’t know how to drink (legal at 21 in the states etc) and pass out everywhere or run around shouting ‘uuuhh mayyn I’mm soo sloshhed’. They party in places which blast ‘my humps’  and through the windows one can see these such humps grinding all over each other. My first night, where I went out with my South Africans we struggled to find anywhere great. I was a bit worried to be honest. Ready to go back to Yavne! But night 2 and three, where I was with real Israelites did I finnaly begin to see the Other places. Nice, Authentic, no Humps you know.

I also went to an amazing soup restaurant with my Israelis. That was incredibly cool, All they serve is soup, orange lentil, brown lentil, green lentil, or yam. The Most Delicious. And in case you can’t decide which lentil soup you want, you get brought samples in tiny little shot-glasses!

The Israelies I was with knew everyone. And some people recognised me. And everyone looked the same. Basically, in this country everyone looks the same. Good thing it’s overflowing with gorgeous people. But because its small, everyone either looks like someone you know, or you know them. Usually if you’re a foreigner you know someone who knows them.

Whilst I’m not excited to be heading away from Jerusalem, I think its ok. Because seeing my Israelies was so nice, and being with my own south African peeps was so amazing, that I know I’ll be back. And I’ve still got mountains of touring to do. Much to be done, but very little time. Or organisational skills. There is still much I havent told you all. Cant tell you that the front seat has moved to the back seat, or how eating creamcheese at 3am has become a tradition, havent told you how I havent conditioned my hair for weeks and am onece again developing natural dreads, or how I'm learning to listen, and trying to understand. I havent written about how bad I've begun to miss people, how I write tearful emails to my parents before deleting them because I dont want to worry them. How much an existential crisis can grow and develop over a short space of time... I havent told you about work, and how its become meaningless, rhythmic already which scares me shitless, because it was all about meaning. Week two, we'll have to see where it goes. awe

Spooning in the Holy City

I’m sitting in the office, doing this instead of Real Work, but I’m feeling a bit demotivated today. Had my first Israeli policy argument today. The theme is refugees of course. I’m learning (so to speak) that there are some things that one needs to be extra careful about saying. Diplomacy: does that mean I’m maturing into having a realistic adult-like opinion about things that are ‘complicated’ and ‘unfortunate’ or does it mean I’m becoming a coward... ya neh. Existential Crisis.
<existential crisis is postponed and I begin to write the second half of this post in Jerusalem on Friday afternoon>
Anyway the reason I haven’t written to the world (ok, Gaby and all my other 10 stalkers) yet is that i've been out. "What?? You have a Life?" you might be asking. Well no, but I've certainly begun to find Joy, a bit of Adventure and maybe even have Fun. Even when I have to do it by force. And it is for this reason, that I have been unable to write everysingleday as I have been doing.

So, heres whats been up-dawg:
On tuesday, I had plans to meet an Israeli-associate, which I had been looking forward to, not having friends/a life/anywhere to go/anyone to go anywhere with/ spoken to people of my generation/etc. But at the last minute she called and said that she's either have to cancell and I was to return to Yavne with no hope of any future social engagements for the near future, OR (she said) if I were to go for "coffee with someone from work" then she could come play later. Now personally I think its a bit presumtious to assume that I could befriend people from work but what choice did I have...
A few hours later not only did I have multiple plans for the night, but for the next night too. Thats right, me, the social butterfly.
Now I dont really CONNECT with my newfound homies, or anything like that. But still, they're there. And with it my eyelids have been peeled open to the friendliness and love that is out there if one simply looks.(and by looks I mean, if you FORCE YOURSELF onto people, more often or not they'll respond in a friendly manner....)
I should study sociology.
So Tuesday night I saw Tel Aviv for the first time. My first scary step out the bus-station that has become my home. I also drank tea made my real brittish people, and drank Goldstar (yup, tastes Just Like Zamalek-my life is now complete) on the pavements of Tel Aviv. Many beautiful moments. The next night I went out to an incredible Eritrean restuarant with people from work, it was down many a dodgey alley, through a park, and round the side of a building. The room was filled with Hubbly-smoke and the food was the most delicious! It was ruined a little by my work-homie's friends who refused to eat and kept pointing out the miniscule cockroach on the wall. But we'll return there without the haters hopefully. ..
Then Thursday I was exhuasted at work. Much to do for a change, but crazy-tired. To add insult to injury I had decided a few days ago to attempt to learn Hebrew, and crash one of the Hebrew classes we hold at the Refugee centre. It was all a blur, I ended up in the intermediate class, and I couldnt understand ANYTHING that was being taught, (I think it might have been conjugations) but I did begin to pick up a bit of vocab. I'm pretty chuffed with myself for going through with it, improving my edumacation despite dropping out the system...
And so it was at 9:00pm after the late classes that I, beyond exhausted, boarded the bus to Jerusalem.
At some point I recal looking out the window, and up, and the full moon, combined with the dark bus, and the sense of excitement creeping through my toes, made me sit there smilling like an idiot. Because it was then that I felt Free. and ready for the city. and ready to see my people again. and be myself again. But it a really cool place.

Crazy reunion with my sister and homie in their flat in Jerusalem. We spent hours eating cucumbers and hummus out of the fridge, and walking the streets eating creamcheese, and breaking other rules of their programme. Like not washing our dishes. The most intense catching-up-and-whinging sessions. Me and my friend who's on Shnat spooned happily all night. And I slept well for the first time in weeks. Because its really cold to sleep alone in a chilly country.

Counting To Ten On One Hand

You know one of those days where everything goes wrong?
Well, this isnt one of those days. But it was pretty close. Lets start from the end and work our way forward. Bus ride home, after ENSURING I knew where to go, had my money, and knew what time the bus left, I ended up running for it because it was 10 minutes early. But it was fine. I was on. But then I couldnt find the money I had taken out especially. After asking the driver whether the bus goes to Yavne, about 6 times, because he kept giving me essays in response when all I can understand in his language is 'ken' and 'lo', I soon learn that he has been trying to tell me the price, and that I've lost the money that I'de safely kept aside. Being a Joburger Im dressed ready for the biting cold of Tel Aviv nights and had to scratch through all of my 9pockets... before giving up and unloading my huge backpack before finding my wallet under my laptop, with the frustrated cues behind me growing colder and more frustrated. Now lets take it back to the office where I had spent my day. The woman I'de been Job-Shadowing left 35minutes after work started, leaving me with the role of Volunteer and Tutor Coordinator, and very little idea of how to even begin. I kept stopping her at the door to double check a thing or two, or three...untill suddenly, I was alone. Now, instead of feeling sorry for myself I'm going to write my ACHIEVEMENTS of the day, in Point Form, as Achivements should be:
1) I hooked up a Francophone refugee with a French/English tutor, all by myself, and arranged a play-date for them to come into the office and meet and make schedules!
2) I made friends! With 2 of the more friendly types in the office
3) I got through the emails that I was supposed to be going through, my primary reason for existence!

4)Agian i brough myself a lovely cup of coffee. (it went like this 'how much' 10 shekels' <hands over money> 'here take a bun' 'no thanks' '10 shekels a bun and coffee' 'but i just want coffee' 'ten shekels still' <takes a bun..walks away>)and begun to actually talk to the refugees. Kinda. Still working on that. I hoping the cool and inspiring stuff, is yet to come..

5) Didnt get lost on the way there/home

So i guess that was my very average day. Just realized I still didnt water the office plants. So much for saving the world huh

The Storeys Below Paradise

This One time on my Gap Yah i got lost on public transport as i dont speak the language. I think i'll make a tally. I rate this is something thats going to happen more than one time. SO today was my First Day at Work. I should have taken a picture, the way my mom took pictures of our First Day at Nursery School/ Big School/ High School/ Dodgey American High School/ Matric. But I didnt. Although I looked pretty trendy in my trenchcoat and Markhams man-jersey. I was a bit nervous this morning. A bit nervous because I had no idea where to go, how to get there, what to expect when I got there, how to get home, if the whole thing was worth it, if it was all a mistake, or a prank, or i wasnt fit for the job, or the job wasnt fit for me... etc. But i guess thats 'natural'.
These days, its kind of weird, I've got this 'shy' alter-ego. I think its because I not yet sure how to act. I talk very little, and take in alot. Surreal shit man.
So, back to my first day at work. It was all hectic and unexpected, but also beautiful. I cant quite tell you what i do there, because as yet, I'm not sure. I think I send alot of emails. And refer the confused Eritreans to the Right people. And water the plants? although I haven't practised that yet.

The highlight of my day was when i took myself out for coffee. It was in the Tel Aviv bus station. The Bus Station is like another country. I work on floor 4. Each floor is like the Oriental Plaza in Joburg. there are underware shops, coffee shops, sweet shops, dress shops, pharmacies, meat places, etc, you get my drift. Each floor has a different street that it exists onto, which might defy gravity, but dont let that put you off. There are like 7 floors and some Minus-floors. From what I know Floor 7 sells flowers, floor 6 sells bus tickets, Floor 5 sells pizza, Floor 4 sells undies, Floor 3 sells Cough mixture, Floor 2 sells meat, Floor 1 sells radios, and Floor -1 sells drugs. Floor -2 sells prostitutes. If you go there, you get bought. Everyone has warned me about the dodgey-ness of the Bus Station, and everyone thinks they're the first to warn me.
But I think its Paradise. People! Coffee! Busses to amazing new places!! what more could one ask for.

I am currently talking to my sister on skype. She's telling me about the beers she drank. I'm a bit jellous. Infact it now sounds like she's talking about politics and coexistence. She mumbled something about 'shallowsuperficialexistence'. . .

Its Off to Bed Time now. Im more excited for tomorrow though, no nerves, just enthusiasm. Plus i can wake up later now that I know my way. mmmmmmm shallowsuperficialexistence

To be Young and Free

Day Two of the whole ordeal and I already feel like I've been here for a month. My cousins came for shabbat dinner last night and it was incredibly to watch the house that had previously contained a middleaged couple and my own awkwardly quiet self into a zoo of excited children. They're all super cute, and I learned more hebrew from them than from the Grow-Nups. But it was really nice, but also weird to meet all my fanjamily. They're quite close relations yet i struggled to work out who was who. But anyways, hopefully I'll grow the relationship and go visit them and such.
Late friday night was finally SLEEPYTIME! who was amped? me. thats right. Tossed and turned and froze my butt of till the hearty cries of a child awaked me at 8am this morning. Since then I played with the toddler a little, washed dishes, ate Israeli yoghurt, went for a drive around my area to try to understand it, printed 5million maps, bus routes, train schedules and other tourist equipment, sat reconnecting with an Israeli friend in a park for 2 hours, before making out in the front seat of the car for a few minutes, got home in time to be whipped off immidiatly to a delicious lebanese dinner, where we talked about the education system, and now off to bed.
I dont use puntuation after the Shabbas.
Tomorrw the real stuff starts. Work begins at noon, and we're leaving the house round half 9 to try to learn the routes, find the place, organise bus tickets. Stuff i wouldnt have taken into consideration if my dad's cousin hadn't instructed me to do so, and kindly assisted along the way. This was NOT how I imagined being young and free would be, but we shall see where it goes I spose.

The City that Never Sleeps But Does Very Little Else.

This one time of my Gap Yah, I flew to the Land of Milk and Honey...
Right now though, I'm staying with my dad's cousin in the City that Never Sleeps But Does Very Little Else. Its called Yavne. And its about 30minutes drive from Tel Aviv, the actual party city.
This is going to be where I write things that have happened, are happening, will happen, make me sad/happy/whatever, are of some interest to me/you/whatever.
Also, its main purpose is so that I remember everything that might have happened On My Gap Yah.
Right now, I've had a lovely salad for breakfast, some 5 Roses tea which i've illigally imported, and as i have not yet decided who the target audience for this 'blog' is, I can say very little else. (Also, because very little else has happened yet, what with it being Day One and all)
Shalom, Salam, and Sawubona