And here we go!

The Magic Carpet has it's magic back, and, after a 1600 shekel disassembly and cleaning of the entire fuel system, is running like new. I immediately headed over to the local ACE Hardware, picked up some packing tape, and scrounged the local dumpsters for boxes. I have precisely two weeks to move before I fly away to America for three weeks, so I had better get started.

At first I was a tad upset about being removed from my home. But then, I remembered what an [insert synonym for female canine here] my landlady has been, and I decided it's going to be fun to shake things up a bit.

The strangest part is that I don't know to where I'm moving. There's a major housing crunch in Jerusalem, so it's a landlord's market, and places go really fast. I've noticed that most of the shidduchim I've had have been from the Rechavia/Katamon/Baka area, about a 20 minute drive from here with no traffic. One of the problems I've had is that because of my telecommuting gig, I can't leave work until 10PM (noon Pacific Time.) Because of the distance, tf I want to go out after work, then by the time I get down to Rechavia/Katamon/Baka to meet someone, it's already 10:45, which is way too late to start. If I'm physically located downtown, then all I would have to do is step out the door at 10 PM, which is still early enough to do something. Or people can come over to my place too. I'm not really a city person, and I've enjoyed the quiet of living here on the edge of the desert, but the benefits of living downtown outweigh the drawbacks, so I figure if I can find a place down there for not too too much money, I ought to grab it.


I was in the Pisgah (that's what we locals call Pisgat Ze'ev) this week. Spent Shabbat last week in Tel Aviv with Israeli Moshe (though he would deny he's actually Israeli.) Here are a couple of pics. For some reason, I can't keep my eyes open when the camera flashes. I have some stupid light sensitivity. Augh, weakness! Well, I guess I'm just a sensitive guy.

Things Fall Apart

It all started with a simple question.

"Are you thinking of staying next year?" the landlord asked.
"Yes, why?"
"Well, we're going to have to increase the rent. It's going to be $550."
That number blew me away, a big increase from $450. I think I'm getting a little hint here.
"Can I think about it a little?"
"Yeah, sure. We'll talk some time."


So I started looking for apartments. I found a good candidate on the Nefesh B'Nefesh email list, talked to the current tennant, and liked what I saw. Turns out I can get something downtown, where all the singles live, for not significantly more than I'm paying out here in the boonies of Pisgat Ze'ev.

On my way back from the apartment, I stopped off at the Sonol station to refill my tank. Now, most gas stations in the states have two grades, 89 octane for the hotshots and the cheaper 87 octane stuff for the rest of us schnorrers. In this case, there was something with a 96 on it that was quite expensive, and something else called "Solar," which was much less. Cool, solar. Sounds high tech, like those solar panels they have generating electricity down in the Negev Desert. So I'll fill up with the cheaper Solar stuff, like in the states. And off I went.

0.2 kilometers later, by where the odometer is now frozen, the engine started shaking and shimmying. My mind quickly raced through every possibility. Mechanical failure? But the thing only has 2500 kilometers on it. Nope. Perhaps I'm driving over a gravely surface and the engine is fighting lousy traction. No, that's not it, I'm on asphalt.

The engine died completely.

Then it hits me. Uh... wait a minute... what does "Solar" actually mean anyway? My pocket dictionary provides me with the answer I didn't want. "Solar: diesel."


So now I'm stuck in the middle of Derech Hebron with cars flying by honking and cursing at me. Called cousin Rafi. Called my friend Steven. Called the towing company. Called the Mazda dealership. Called the list of repair shops they recommended.

Talking on my car cellular to the repair shop guy.
"Ah, I see, you put diesel in your engine. Yes, that will be an expensive repair. Very very expensive."
One of the motorists driving by shouts and gesticulates at me, "Do you know how dangerous that is, stupid!?"
I scream back, "You think I CHOSE to break down here?
The operator hears my American-accented retort over the phone tries to soothe me, "Yes that's how Israelis are. Hot blooded and angry. You will have to get used to it."

In the end, Steven, a dentist, was kind enough to cancel his appointment to drive out and pick me up. We managed to roll the car to the side of the road into a legal parking spot for the night.

The Magic Carpet, minus the Magic, abandoned for now.

We get back to Steven's car to head back to Pisgat Ze'ev when suddenly... nothing happens! That's right, his handheld car alarm security deactivator has failed, as has the backup he brought. So now we're BOTH stuck and can't get home, and end up taking a taxi.

Steven tries to get the security system working.

The next day, I'm riding in the front seat with Kobi the tow truck driver, heading to a repair shop that my insurance rep recommended. Kobi quizzes me about my life here in Israel and sees how glum I feel.
"Don't feel bad, this is the month of Elul. All of the judgments against a person for the year are passed now. For all of the Tzarot (troubles) you're going through now, by the time you get to Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur, you'll have a clean record."

As we arrive at the repair shop, Kobi bursts out ahead of me and runs up to the Avner, the head mechanic. He holds Abner's hand gently and kisses it.
"Avner, please, be nice to the boy, he's a new immigrant!"
"Yes, I already heard this whole story from his insurance salesman. He called a few minutes ago."
"He's a good boy," Kobi continues, "a yeshivah student!"
"Yes, but is he a GOOD student?"

In the end, it cost 1603 shekels (about $400) to clean the fuel system and repair the vehicle. As Rafi put it, "I was expecting another zero on that number." And, of course, I learned my new Hebrew word for the day, solar.

So back to the apartment search. Out of curiosity, I check the prices in Pisgat Ze'ev... and see my own apartment advertised! And for only $470, not the $550 he's charging me to try to chase me out. Of course, the landlord didn't have the guts to tell me himself that I would be removed from the premises. So I'm definately going to be moving.

Sometimes Life Just Stinks

I try to keep a chipper attitude about life in general, but today, well, the day was awful.

Okay, I've got to find something good. Yeshivah started up again today, and we started learning from Sefer Shmuel (the book of Samuel,) relating the story of how the tribes of Israel united under the Davidic Kingdom.

But the rest of the day was awful. I just don't have the heart to write about it right now. It's the sort of story that's funny, but only in past tense, and I'm still living it in the present, so I can't yet approach it with that "ha ha" attitude. Hopefully I can gather my nerves and spill the beans tomorrow. Fortunately the problems are mainly monetary, and you know, money isn't everything. Nothing disastrous or personal or anything like that, but I just seem to be bleeding money and am having trouble keeping ahead of my financial plummet.

Ugh.

Better mazal tomorrow, maybe.

The Search Continues

I found myself shidduchless last Monday, so had to continue the search. Actualy, before I went out with the last girl, L., American Steven's wife here in Pisgat Ze'ev had mentioned that her sister is good at setting people up and has many connections, so I drove out to Har Nof to meet her and get my name in her phone directory. She had someone in mind, C, but meanwhile, a friend in Be'er Sheva called and said she had someone else who would make a good match (that would be "L.") After L decided she didn't want to go out with me any more, a week had passed and I had forgotten about my friend out in Har Nof. Meanwhile, I received a list of four potential matches from sawyouatsinai.com, and they all looked good, so I approved them, but received no response from the girls.

A Nefesh B'Nefesh singles event where we were to go out and pick onions was scheduled for last Friday, so I decided to chill out for a few days. Of course, I've never actually gotten a real date out of all of these singles things, but they're usually fun anyway and I get to see some of my old friends, as well as girls I've already dated who happen to be at the same event.

Well, as usual, nothing came of the event, but on the way back I received a phonecall out of the blue from a shadchanit I had never spoken to but had heard of me, and she described a gal, "R," who sounded pretty nice, so I said okay. She then hung up to call the girl and see if it would be all right with her. Five minutes later, the phone rang again, and it was the lady I stayed with at Kfar Haroeh, who informed me that one of the families in the village had an eligible daughter, "N", who might be suitable. I informed her that I had already consented to date someone else, and I don't do the "two at once" thing, and so I had to decline. A few hours later, the first shadchanit called me back and informed me that "R" had declined, as once she heard that I learn at Machon Meir, she immediately had the impression of me as a wild-eyed settler nut, which I'm not, although I am a wild-eyed settler nut sympathizer. I then called back my hostess from Kfar Haroeh and got the phone number of "N," whom I promptly called. Meanwhile, I arrived in Tel Aviv for a shabbat with Israeli Moshe, and I called N from his house but wasn't able to get a hold of her. I spoke with her father, who delivered the message that I had called. After shabbat I called again, and managed to speak with "N" and arrange a date in Kiryat Ono (near Tel Aviv) the next morning. Later that night, I drove home and checked sawyouatsinai.com, and it turned out one of the girls I had approved, D, had actually said "yes" and given me her phone number.

Oops. I had already arranged to go out with "N," so I couldn't call D to arrange, but I couldn't exactly cancel either. Well, honesty is the best policy, so I decided to let her know what had happened. But I couldn't get through. Meanwhile my friend in Be'er Sheva called with another offer, R, but I had to delay for a couple of days to see about the ones I was working on now.

Next morning, I shared some lemonade with N. It was a good time, and she's a great girl, but we both left with the feeling that this was definitely not a match. So, later in the afternoon, I called D, but she still wasn't picking up the phone. I tried again Monday, still no answer. This morning, Tuesday, I gave it one last shot, but she still wasn't there. Welp, sorry D, but daylight's burning!

The next step was to call my friend in Be'er Sheva and see if I could get together with R. She sounded like a nice girl, and I got a green light to give her a call, but only later in the afternoon. So I waited patiently. Then, when I was about to call, my Be'er Sheva friend called me again and informed me that R had gotten back together with her old shidduch, so now I've got nothing.

Later in the afternoon, I went for my hour-long jog. Frustrated. Girls, girls everywhere but not a date in site. But then it struck me, I had never called Steven's sister-in-law in Har Nof back! D'oh! So I rang her up.

"Hi, this is Ephraim."
"Hi Ephraim, so I'm assuming it didn't work out with L. Do you want me to see if C is available?"
"Would you be so kind?"
"No problem."

The strange thing is, when I write it down, it sounds like a whirlwind, but it all seems to be moving so slowly from my perspective.

Modiin Illit / Kiryat Sefer

Last week I headed out to Modiin to do some learning with Moish. But then we got hungry. We needed to go out to get some kosher cold cuts.

On our way out the door, we noticed that the Modiin Municipality had been trimming the date palms lining the road. Sukkot is only a month and a half a way, and this stuff makes perfect schach (the stuff that covers the sukkah.)

Schach, and it's free!

Moish shoves schach into his warehouse. This stuff typicaly costs 7 shekels per frond, and we got like 40 of them.

Of course, this was a golden mitzvah opportunity! After all, every four amot (paces) one walks in the Land of Israel is a mitzvah, so as long as we were getting cold cuts, why not go somewhere new. With 150 horsepower under the hood, the magic carpet can get about 10,000 amot per hour, so why not leave town completely? We ended up in Modiin Illit (upper Modiin.) Whereas Modiin located right on the green line (the line dividing Israel from the Jordanian occupation prior to 1967,) Modiin Illit, also known as Kiryat Sefer, is a few kilometers over the green line. Unlike heavily secular Modiin, Modiin Illit is a hareidi (ultra-orthodox) settlement, and just this year, due to its astronomical birthrate, and now with a population well over 30,000, overtook Maaleh Adumim as the largest community over the green line.

The road in to Modiin Illit

The welcome bush

People at bus stop

The mean streets of Modiin Illit

Hareidi cities have the reputation as being not-so-clean. After all, with ten kids in an average family, who has time to pick up after all of them? But Modiin Illit, while not at the asthetic level of the main city of Modiin, is relatively clean and well-tended, with parks, gardens, and trees. It looks like a nice place to live, if you can deal with wearing all black in hundred degree weather and 100% humidity.

So Much to Blog So Little Time

You might be tempted to think I'm not a busy guy, that I don't get out enough. Well, I actually have a huge backlog of stuff I'd love to blog about, but I just haven't the time.

Ariel, 30 minutes east of Tel Aviv
An Olive Oil bottling plant in Shiloh
On a night hike near Beit Shemesh
The ruins on Tel Shiloh

I'd love to blog about it, but I have to get to bed. Tomorrow morning I head out for Rechovot to pick vegetables for the needy, and then it's off to a Shabbat in Tel Aviv with Mosheh (one of my Israeli friends.)

Shabbat shalom!

Ashklelon

I made a visit with A (he would like to remain anonymous) to Ashkelon last shabbat. I've been taking the Magic Carpet on exploratory missions and diversions beyond my old bus routes, trying to see more of the country by road. This time, instead of taking the usual route 3 across the country, I swung down south past Beit Shemesh and went through Kiryat Gat.

The road to Kiryat Gat.

The Intel factory at Kiryat Gat

IT was a beautiful cross-country drive. Wheras you can easily spend a month driving cross-country in the states, in Israel, it seldom takes more than an hour.



A. happened to know Rav Bleu, the Chief Rabbi of Ashkelon, and we accepted his invitation for Shabbat. But when we got to his house, he had already left for the beach.

Now, the beach presents many obstacles to the religiously-oriented, specifically a somewhat more relaxed standard of modesty. So where did Rab Bleu go?

The religious beach.

A., in Ashkelon, ready for the beach.

Yours Truly, wearing the only pair of shorts I own, ready for some ocean swimming.

A small section of the beach surrounded by opaque aluminum anti-immodesty shielding, where guys can go to swim away from the peril of the fleshy temptations found beyond the wall.



Shabbat was beyond fantastic. Rav Bleu travels from shul to shul delivering lessons on complexities and derivations of the Oral tradition, on the week's parshah, and everything inbetween. The man is 83 but strides kilometers across town at a brisk pace. Everywhere people see him coming and jump to their feet to kiss his hand, wish him a Shabbat Shalom, and ask him questions. It was an eye opener to travel in his wake.

At every shiur (lesson,) once he had everyone's attention, he would close whatever book he was learning from and address the audience.

"We have two guys here, A. and Ephraim, and they are both single, they both learn Torah in yeshivah every day, and they earn a decent living. If any of you have eligible daughters please let me know now. Rafael, yes you, do you have any daughers? No, only sons? If you have any daughters let me know!"

And so it went at every shul.

Rav Bleu makes Havdallah

Afterwards, Rav Bleu insisted that A. pull out his guitar and play some upbeat tunes.






He also loaned me an English book on the laws of shmittah (the sabbatical year.) Just being around a living Tzaddik has a permanently elevating effect on the soul.

Welcome Olim!

With my first year in Israel almost complete, I felt it was time to go welcome the next batch of olim. As it turns out, Jeff, one of our fellow students from Machon Meir, had flown back to the states to put his affairs there in order, and was returning today as an oleh chadash, a new immigrant, so it was a great opportunity to do a mitzvah and welcome our buddy home.

A stock photo I have of Jeff, photo circa June, 2007.

We took the bus, supplied by Nefesh B'Nefesh, which left at 6:15 AM. Man, it was tough getting up at 5AM to make it there on time. But it was worth it!

Daniel and Yours Truly on the bus with our guest stickers. (Yes I know it's upside down.)

Sunrise over Jerusalem. Looks kinda like a Bob Ross painting, no?

We arrived at the airport at around 7:30 AM, in the old terminal, terminal 1. Terminal 1 has since been replaced by the new terminal, so the old one was set aside especially for the landing planeloads of olim.

Some of the guys broke out their tefillin and began shacharit, morning prayers.

Yours truly at shacharit. Yes, I know it's upside down.

Then came the announcement, the planes had landed and the new olim were making their way to the terminal. Everyone rushed outside to greet them.

Some brought banners.

Children who preceded their parents on the mitzvah of aliyah. "And he will turn back to God the hearts of fathers with their sons, and the hearts of sons with their fathers..." (Malachi, 3:24.)

Some, like this Israeli couple, didn't even know anyone who was making aliyah personally, but just came to show their support.

Milling around, "Uh... where are they?"

Waiting with bated breath.

The first peoplemover arrives.

And the first wave of Olim bursts out of the peoplemover.

It's JEFF!

And now, we move back into the terminal for refreshments and some speechifying.

Rabbi Fass, co-founder of Nefesh B'Nefesh, welcoming the Olim home.

The ceremony was also visited by former Prime Minister and opposition leader Bibi Netanyahu.

Bibi Netanyahu, Likud Party leader.

Okay, we're all tired, enough with the speeches.

Later, we guests were politely sent out the door while the exhausted olim began the process of paperwork and registration with various government agencies. It brings back vivid memories of my own aliyah a year ago.

Absorption Ministry clerks preparing for the onrush of new olim.

Overall, the experience was much more moving than I had expected. I've had a rough month or so with troubles with work, shidduchim, and the like. But going to the ceremony helped put everything in perspective. On the whole, life here is great, and no matter how troubling life's petty little issues can be, making aliyah is one decision I don't regret for a second.

An another one bites the dust

The phone's ringing. It's the shidduch. Before picking up, I do the quick mental math. Let's see, it's 9:30 PM. I called her at 6 PM. It took her over three hours to call me back, so experience tells me that this phone call will not go well. I type in sawyouatsinai.com on my internet browser while I answer, "Hey there!"
"Hi."
Tone of voice somewhat droopy. Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, engines three and four are out and engines one and two are on fire...
"Hey. How was work?"
I enter my username and password to enter the dating website.
"Good. Well, I'm tired. You know, busy day. Yours?"
... we're losing altitude fast. Please place your head between your knees as the flight attendants demonstrated at takeoff.
I surf over to the "Dating status" section, dragging the menu from it's current setting, "dating," past, "out of town," and "engaged," to its final setting, "available."
"Well," I answer, "I'm still working, you know, and the phone's ringing off the hook, but it's all..."
"Look, I think you're a great guy, but I don't think we're a match."
I click "confirm - available."
"Really? Well, I'm sorry to hear that. But I guess if you think so."
"Yeah."
"Okay, well good luck to you."
"You too."
Click. Single again.

Well, I was GOING to post...

..but then I got a call from the girl I'm dating. "I'm in Pisgat Ze'ev." So I dropped everything and raced out the door for an evening at the Kanyon HaPisgah, our very own Pisgat Ze'ev mall.

Kanyon Hapisgah (The Pisgah Mall) Notice how dead it is at mid day. It's a nice place but there isn't much to buy there.

It's hard to get girls to come out this far, so it was a welcome switch to be in my own 'hood. And the creperie at the mall has finally got a reliable teudah (kosher certificate,) so I was able to have some real ice cream. Mmmm....

Back with some more serious posts tomorrow. Shavua Tov!

I Just Can't Get A Date

I'm used to them tearing down my door. So what gives? Why can't I get a measly shidduch here?

I ended the last one about a month ago. On the same day, I got a call from Moish saying that this girl who had been on-again-off-again about going out with me was on again. I had never met her, but her parents came over for dinner one time when I was over and we had a great time. Little did I know, but much did I suspect from the tone of the conversation, that they were mining me for information to see if I would be appropriate for their daughter. Well, they liked me, but the daughter, whom I never met, wasn't interested. Over time her parents worked on her and she became interested. Then she changed her mind and wasn't interested at all. Finally, she decided she was interested in meeting me, not on a date, but in a neutral setting. You know, Moish, his wife and daughter Dinah, and Rivkah, plus the girl's parents, her younger brother, and herself at a pasta cook-off. It was sort of like when Michael Corleone was dating that native Italian girl in the first Godfather movie, but I got to see even less of her. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but I figured I had nothing to lose. Of course, I didn't lose anything, but she didn't want to go out with me, so I didn't gain anything. Still, the Godfather is one of my all-time favorites, and I got to play Al Pachino. The girl gets blown up later in the movie anyway, so it would have been a wash even if things had worked out.

(Speaking with the father of the girl he plans to marry, and after telling him that he's in hiding from some gangsters)
Michael Corleone: "Some people will pay a lot of money for that information, but then your daughter would lose a father, instead of gaining a husband."

Next, met a couple of fantastic girls while at a Shabbat table with a friend of mine. One of them was already spoken for, and our host was trying to set my friend up with the other. Of course, my friend was already seeing someone else at the time, but our host was very insistent, and had already told the parents and the girl that my friend was coming over, so we all had to be very polite and play out our respective rolls. Him trying to be polite but standoffish, me kinda peeking over at this girl out of the corner of my eye but holding back. A week later, my friend asked me if he wants me to ask about the girl for me. I jumped at the opportunity, but I got a barrage of wiggle-outs.
"She wants to live on a farm."
"So do I."
"No, but she wants to do serious farming."
"Fine by me."
"Uh.. she's going to India for two months. Maybe when she gets back."

I suspect I may have offended my host over the course of the visit. That's what you get for being a neocon at a hippie village and opening your mouth.

If the direct approach didn't work, I decided, why not try the Internet. The site is Saw You at Sinai, the cutesy name being rooted in the idea being that, since every Jewish soul today is believed to be a reincarnation of the 600,000 Jewish souls who were at Mount Sinai when the Torah was given, then for sure both you and your shidduch were there at the same time. My cousin Randy just got engaged to a girl he met on the net, so I decided to give it a shot as well (his picture is still at the top of the page, www.sawyouatsinai.com, as one of their successful matches.) The difference bewteen sawyouatsinai and the other sites is that, while you do post a profile, you do not do your own searches. You select a Shadchanit (matchmaker) from a list, and then she matches you up with potentials. Well, I posted my profile, and within a day I had three recommended matches. Great! I approved the first one. Then waited a day for her reply. Then another day. And another day. Finally, I got the idea and approved the second one. She responded promptly with a rejection. I was getting the idea that this wouldn't be so easy, so I called a friend/shadchanit down in Be'er Sheva, who began searching and found someone appropriate. Eureka! But then she became very difficult to get a hold of. So I waited a day or so.

Meanwhile, I went back to sawyouatsinai and approved the third offer. Approved! At last, a phone number in hand! I called the same day.

"Oh, yeah, I know I said yes, but I'm leaving the country now and won't be back until Yom Kippur." Two months. Ugh.

So I returned to the site and saw I had three more offers. I accepted them all. Figure I'm getting pretty desperate at this point. It's been four days with no response from any of them.

Finally my friend in Be'er Sheva told me that the girl she was looking for was, in fact, dating someone, but she had another recommendation. As of tonight, I've got a name. A real name! With a phone number too! So, tomorrow I'll be making a phonecall, and we'll take it from there.