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The wind outside is crazy right now! I didn’t go outside yesterday, and an intense storm has been raging since then. The Jerusalem Post reported 100kph (62mph) winds that have been knocking down power lines all over the country (it’s still funny to me that one storm can be felt in pretty much the entire country). This morning on our way to our respective gyms, my boyfriend put his arm around me as soon as we got outside so I “wouldn’t get blown away.” At first I thought he was being silly, but when we got outside, I realized he was right. It’s always extra windy behind our apartment building, and it pushed both of us so hard we had to run to the car. If it could push our combined 300+ pounds around, I’m certain it could have blown me at least a couple of feet.
All around us, scaffolding from various constructions sites were blowing around and breaking, and sand was thrown into places it usually doesn’t exist. I could see the ocean going crazy as I walked to the gym. (JPost reported that police couldn’t search for a missing swimmer because waves were as high as 7m (23 ft).) It was locked, however, so my boyfriend drove me back home.
I could only open the door to the building like six inches and then the wind would slam it shut. I ran back into the car, and then I couldn’t shut my door because the wind was blowing it open. Finally my boyfriend got out, helped me out, shut the car door, opened the building door, made sure I was in and then finally went to his gym.
AOL says the wind in Tel Aviv is 37 to 60mph (they don’t have the weather for Ashkelon), so I’m guessing it’s on the higher end of that down here. I’m on an even higher adrenaline rush now than if I had gone to the gym. It was awe-inspiring to see such a great act of nature, fun to get pushed around by the wind, but also downright scary that I could have been blown away or hit by something else blowing away. I can’t decide if I’m excited or nervous to venture out again later.
My gym has been under construction on and off all year so far. The worst is when they paint it, because they don’t close the gym, so I come in all excited to work out and then have to leave because I don’t want to get 30 types of cancer because I worked out in an enclosed space while heavily breathing in toxic paint fumes. Is that so strange? Would it kill them to just close the gym for a week and get all the renovations done at once?
Anyway, today I come in and the owner was so excited to point out that not only are the walls painted black in the cardio room, but now so are the ceilings. And the only lights in the room are these neon panels on the side. He was like, “Doesn’t this look like a nightclub?!”
Yes, yes it does.If you took the picture above, switched the lights from the ceiling to the walls, and replaced the people with treadmills, you’d have my gym.
But why exactly is that the goal? If I wanted to go to a nightclub, I’d dress up, go to Tel Aviv, and drink. Working out is pretty much the exact opposite. I wear dry-fit clothes, stay close to home, and try to be healthy. I also want to be able to see. I’ve never once been on the elliptical and thought, “Damn, I wish I could pretend I was in a nightclub right now! If only it looked like one …” Basically the only similarities between working out and partying is the sweating and the fast-paced music, and I’d like to keep it that way.
So yes, mission accomplished, the gym looks exactly like a nightclub. I just have no idea why.
There are lots of ways in which Israel mimics America, but comes up short, especially in terms of food. Birthday cake and Cinnamon Toast Crunch are two examples that come to mind. However, when it comes to bagels, Israel wins. You get weird looks if you try to order cream cheese alone because here bagels are also supposed to come topped with carrots, onions, cucumbers and other assorted veggies of your choosing. You can even add hard boiled eggs for a few extra shekels. Not only does this make bagels crunchier and more flavorful, but it also makes them healthier, and who can argue with that?
This summer, while in Venice on a business trip with my mother, I was nervous about being the navigator in a city where locals say even Marco Polo got lost. However, the three days passed without my fumbling the directions even once.
The winding canals of Venice, however, have nothing on Israel. My boyfriend and I have gotten lost every single time we’ve had to drive somewhere outside of Ashkelon. But as the official “Google Mapster” in the relationship, I have to say: It’s not my fault.
Instead, I blame the street signs.
For a country known for creating advanced irrigation systems and inventing instant messaging, it baffles my mind that they haven’t figured out street signs yet. The picture above shows me with a typical Israeli street sign. I happen to be in Jerusalem (and on a street that doesn’t allow cars), but they’re the same mostly everywhere.
The problem is that the signs are low to the ground, often obscured by shrubbery or the cross street’s sign (since the two are adjacent, rather than one on top of the other), and appear only on one side of the street. Some streets don’t even have them. And even if a sign happens to be in plain view, the lettering is so small that they can only be read from a distance of about 20 feet.
In other words, you don’t see the sign for the street you’re looking to turn onto until you’re passing it — if you can see the sign at all. To compound the matter, exits and u-turns are few and far between, so it is often a while before you’re able to turn around and correct yourself.
The end result is that if you are unfamiliar with the town you’re in and don’t have a GPS system, you need to build an extra half hour into your schedule to account for the time you’ll spend searching for your where you’re going. Getting lost can take so much time it’s like a destination in and of itself.
Perhaps that’s why in Hebrew, you don’t say “I got lost,” but rather, “halachti l’ibud,” which literally means, “I went to lost.”
Like the first win Ashkelon just registered in our opening round game of the Israeli Cup (a tournament that is separate from league and is spread out throughout the entire season). Or the first object that was thrown at my team from the stands by a crazy Israeli hooligan. Luckily for my teammates…
For one reason or another, most of Israel is overrun with stray cats. Some say the population got out of control after they were brought in decades ago to deal with Israel’s now-solved mouse problem, while others say they are the result of a combination of Israeli’s who don’t spay their cats plus poor sanitation that allows cats easy access to scraps in dumpsters. Regardless of the reason, they can be found wandering the streets, eating food out of dumpsters and generally taking the place that squirrels have in America. Here is one of our apartment building’s dumpster cats who snuck into the lobby.
If you asked me prior to my arrival in Israel how to define a salad, l definitely would have included lettuce as a main ingredient. For some reason, though, most Israeli’s seem to have a different definition, and most salads here contain everything but lettuce. This is a “Jerusalem Salad” with cucumber, tomato, onion, eggs and cheese from Aroma, the Israeli equivalent of Starbucks
A sukkah outside of an Israeli chain restaurant called Burger Bar. It’s a mitzvah (commandment) to eat in a sukkah during the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, which is going on now. To keep customers during the week-long holiday, most restaurants set up a sukkah outside their building where their customers can eat. Even my gym set up a sukkah for some weird reason …
“Don’t drive on Yom Kippur. There are people who might stone your car!”
So goes a typical Yom Kippur warning issued to new arrivals in Israel. While most Israelis don’t keep Shabbat or go to synagogue every week, certain observances, such as fasting on Yom Kippur or abstaining from wheat products during Passover, are more widespread. Even if people aren’t religious, they are very knowledgeable about all things Judaism since even in public schools, students are taught about Jewish holidays and the Torah (Arab Israelis attend separate schools — a topic for another day) which permeate Israeli culture.
Perhaps for this reason, people tend to step up their religious observance on Yom Kippur, considered to be the holiest day of the year. That means in addition to no eating and drinking, no driving, and perhaps no use of electricity. Most people have at least one synagogue within walking distance from their homes.
For these 25 hours, the streets are considered off limits to cars, and while most Israelis would never do so, stories exist of drivers having their cars stoned.
To me this warning didn’t mean much, even if I weren’t too tired from fasting to go anywhere, where would I go? All stores, shops and restaurants are closed.
When I stepped onto my balcony after my pre-fast meal, however, the change that had settled over the country was apparent. I couldn’t just see the Mediterranean Sea as I watched the sun set over it, I could hear it — something I usually can’t do even though the beach is right across the street.
I could also hear dogs barking and people walking in the streets, but in between those sounds, I was struck by the quiet. My street (named Pretty View) is calm enough during the other 364 days of the year, but without the typical car engines and city noise, it was close to silent on Yom Kippur. So noiseless it would have been eerie, had it not been so moving.
After the sun had set, I decided to take my experience to the next level. Street level.
My boyfriend and I walked down the street behind our bloated bellies, surrounded by our fellow revelers walking dogs or whizzing by on bikes and skateboards. Actually, we ambled down the middle of the street, rather than walking in the dirt on the side of the road, as we usually do, to steer clear of notoriously crazy Israeli drivers.
So while friends and relatives may have seen the no driving rule as a warning, we took it as an invitation.
