On Sunday night, I came home tired and bedraggled. My aunt thought it was time I learned to do ironing. The People of Israel have a knack for timing. It felt good to be back in the calm of Yavne...
At Shul on friday the Rabbi sits, closes his eyes and makes you think back on your week. He says 'deep breath in' and the sound of long pasionate snuffels fills the room. 'Deep breath out'. With each breath you're supposed to run through the week, chronologically, to accept the week and ready yourself to the sabbath most probably. Then everyone sings the same line of a song at different times, and starts up again with the next breath. Its pretty intense
Monday Night brought about that need after a uber productive day in the office, to get out, get drinks, get free. Those of us without homes readily available in South Tel Aviv ended up going to a trendy open-air bar in the middle of Florentine street. <These trendy places are actually in the middle,on this semi-pavement dividing the street>. Myself along with a lovely canadian, my favourite Dutch person, and a French Israeli. The latter two (40) and (29) decided that they were old enough to be my mother. Which worked out for me- because it meant my drinks were then free... I had a really lovely time, but the night was still young. 8:30 saw us arriving outside of a dusty old apartment block. Leave your shoes at the door, and squeeze past the Indian man at the stove, to the lounge of his house, which turned out to be the restuarant where me and most of my people from my NGO were meeting for supper. Best meal I've had this year. When we were warm and happy, spread out on the pillows that were the chairs at the low long table, I looked around me, with a grin on my face, curry and beer in my tummy and the presence of the most incredible group of people throbbing happily in my soul; I noticed something amazing. Despite that I have grown up in the Rainbow nation, with a mosaic of muli-ethnic friends, this here was the most diverse array of people I have Ever been in. The South African, the New Yorker-Brazzilian, the boy from Minnesota and his Israeli girlfriend, the Dutch woman previously mentioned, another from Holland and her Eritrean boyfriend, a 19yr old Israeli with Morrocan heritage, the Israeli rasta man, the Bangladeshian who owned the restarant, the brittish lesbian woman who made Aliya and the man from a teeny tiny village in the UK who worked in Syria and speaks Arabic. The Sudanese woman who grew up in Saudi Arabia, the French-Israeli who's been living in North Africa for the last 10 years, the African-American who married a Jewess from Ohio, and the Swiss who cannot Yodel.
Deep breath in- Tuesday I got quite sick, and did no work, but atleast got visa photo's taken, with my Eritrean client who was planning to relocate to find refugee status in Australia. Wouldnt have known where to go, but I have contacts in the right places it seems. Deep breath out.
Wednesday I begun to make plans, and have a crisis about my weekend. It was now, at the last munute, that the relatives want to see me. Not in my lonesome first stages, but now when I'm crisis-ing about the things I still have to do/experience/see with my last remaining days...
(After discussing my weekend plans with one or two people in the office, as well as the past experiences, my little planned trip to Palastine or Haifa turned into a full out office outing///)
Thursday morning I wake up early to go climbing, my thursday routine with my favourite American. That night went out again for happy hour to the trendy bar in the middle of the street. This time though-to Plan the Weekend. The one colleague however sucked the concept of 'planning' drier than a petriefied prune. It made it almost unexciting. Our receptionist, a 30year old Ecuadorian-Israeli man joined us, and took us for drinks at the most amazing alternative alleyway place. I rode on a bike with my American, the closest I've come near death despite spending most of the weekend crossing the border...
The plan was to sleep. And to meet up at 7am at the bus station for Adventure Part 1.
I spooned between the most awkward guy I have ever met, and my American friendie and got not a wink of sleep. Respirate, Exhale, droool. 2 weeks left
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