shula's cup

shula's cup

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The First Week of the Rest of Our Lives.

Last Sunday morning, July 22, 2012 we were still in Lake Tapps, WA, weighing our suitcases and redistributing the weight so that none of them went over 50 pounds. Uncle Joe's neighbor came over and had Hadossa try on skirts that she had made for her. My sister knocked on the door and brought in four more people, unexpectedly. Uncle Joe was making scrambled eggs and potatoes. I was trying to decide which things to eliminate from the suitcases. The neighbor brought her vacuum kit to shrink things into ziploc bags to fit in the suitcases better. 

So many things were happening...and then we were in the car on the way to the airport. Then we stood there trying to say goodbye. My phone rang but I ignored it because we were taking pictures and saying goodbye. I hugged Uncle Joe really tight. We both got moist, red eyes as we squeezed each other. I couldn't hardly look at Bethy, my sister. It was hard, but we pressed on into the security line. I listened to the phone message. One of my dear friends lost her son the night before in a car accident. The same very dear friend who just the afternoon before was smiling and hugging me and telling me she was so going to miss me. She had made a huge plate of my favorite cookies and I had two of them in my backpack. Now I find she is mourning the loss of her son, after losing her daughter seven years prior. Hadossa and I stood in shock in the security line. We made it through and sat in the airport waiting...grieving...and anticipating our exciting future. It was strange to feel as though we were already miles from our community and yet still so emotionally connected to the ones we love. 

The flight to Chicago was relatively uneventful. Hadossa got a window seat and the small blue swimming pools behind each toy house looked the same as last time we landed at the O'hare Airport. Then it was a dash to find Polish Airlines. Then it was the stress of standing in the line and feeling like we weren't going to make it in time. The young Jewish man we talked to in line helped us not feel so stressed. We discussed religion, education, and culture and he described his background as varying from Christian, to Messianic, to Jewish, and now "nothing".

We got our boarding passes, sure that we were late, ran...ran...to security...came near total apoplexy in that line, when after running again, we found that EVERYONE getting on the Polish airline was still waiting to board. The delay was a nice relief to many of us.

That flight was uneventful. We lost track of our Jewish friend and I sat next to a tiny Polish woman who slept hunched forward most of the flight. She kept having to re-adjust herself from falling too far forward, and her re-adjustments often tickled my arm, but she was a good neighbor. No crying babies. Dead silence most of the time. Very little turbulence. I would say it had to be a nearly perfect international flight. They served us pork. We asked for something different, but they said we should have ordered that in advance. At first it looked hopeless, then a nice flight attendant brought us some crackers, cheese, and bread from business class on fancy plates with real silverware. We were grateful. 

Warsaw
We landed in Warsaw in the Polish afternoon and caught a bus to downtown. A lady on the bus recommended we see the "old city" and told us where to get off. I hadn't slept much yet, and though we had been fed here and there on the flights, we were both very hungry. By the time we found a restaurant, I actually felt quite wobbly. I was so thankful to get a table at the bottom of the restaurant, upload pictures on the internet, leisurely eat some pasta, and drink, drink, drink water. We stayed for quite some time because the layover in Poland was nine hours. Here's a little video I made of Warsaw: https://youtu.be/TiVQtzeeDiA 

Warsaw
Warsaw
After the bus ride back, we began to notice all the Israelis waiting for flights at the airport. Hadossa grew more and more excited as she was hearing their Hebrew. Hebrew conversations in the restroom, in the hallways, at the store. We finally boarded our last plane and began looking for the seats. One of our seats was supposed to be a window seat, and the one next to it was in the middle, and someone else was supposed to get the aisle seat. But when we found our row, a lady was sitting in the middle seat. The Polish flight attendant asked her to move to the aisle seat so we could have our seats, but she insisted that she needed to actually have the window seat instead. She moved over to the window seat and looked determined. The flight attendant tried to reason with her, but to no avail. She left the woman in my hands and I had to make a split decision whether or not to fight for the window seat or give in and take the other two. I gave in and sat next to her and smiled. Here we were getting ready to move to Israel to bless the Jewish people and I had my first opportunity with this woman. When she saw I wasn't going to fight her, we became friends. I asked her if she spoke Hebrew, which then led to a long Hebrew lesson that lasted most of the flight. She was impressed with Hadossa's abilities, but often reminded me that I needed to study more. 

This woman is seventy-one years old, made Aliyah from North Africa when she was twelve years old, and spends a lot of time in France. She was supposed to have been on a different flight, but through some mix-up ended up where she was with us instead. Her name is Denise and she took a real liking to us. When she needed to get up to use the bathroom, she asked me to go with her. She was very talkative and had a typical pushy Israeli personality that you can either love and be amused by, or become annoyed by. We decided to enjoy every minute of it. 

She asked us where we were going for our first night. The truth is, we had plans that seemed impossible to fulfill and I had been praying and praying that HaShem was going to give us the strength to do what we were going to attempt to do. We had planned to take a train from the airport to Haifa, and then a bus from Haifa to Tiberias, so we could stay our first night at Kibbutz Kinneret where Hadossa's friend Hannah lives. But Hannah had said it was very likely she wasn't going to be there because she's in the IDF and rarely gets weekdays off. So we were only going  there for a place to stay for the night (and the adventure, of course). But I was very concerned about our strength because we had so much luggage. We had four suitcases, each near fifty pounds, plus two backpacks and two computer bags. When we walked with all our stuff, we could barely move. So when I thought about what we were going to try to attempt, in the heat, with barely any sleep and food, I was sure we would probably just lay down in the street and die. But Denise asked us to come to her house in Jerusalem and stay our first night. I know, it is crazy, going to a perfect stranger's house in a strange country and staying the night there. But I just knew it would be okay. I knew that HaShem had sent her because we weren't going to have the strength to go to Tiberias. So by the time we got off the plane, the plan was that we were going to Denise's. She was very excited to be having guests. 

She is the kind of lady that talks non­­stop, pushing her way through life. Whenever she can get assistance, she does. So she wanted assistance getting from the plane to the passport place. She was not shy about insisting that someone bring her wheels. We were helping her carry her stuff (we didn't have our luggage yet) and so since we were now "with her" we got to ride on the little truck she ordered. The Israeli driver zipped us smoothly through the airport, while we hung on to our seats. He honked every time we passed anyone walking, and our very first glimpses out the airport windows of Israel were enjoyed as we moved at high speeds on that little truck. It was great fun. 

Hadossa and our new friend, Denise
We were dropped off at the passport place, and Denise pushed her way to the front of her line. We waited patiently in our "non-Israeli" passport line and then Denise came over and started hugging the family directly in front of us. The man was her nephew and he was there with his wife and children. Then we stepped forward to show our passports and the Israeli man who took them didn't even look at our acceptance letters to the university. He just stamped everything and sent us on our way (with Denise, of course). Denise led us to the baggage claim, where we found our luggage, and then as we walked through customs, she loudly asked the customs officers where to get coffee and wi-fi because she wanted to get a hold of her daughter. The men gave her directions and sent us on our way with her. No one even asked us a single question about why we were there or anything about our luggage. We felt as though we were doing something wrong...but all the customs men ignored us, so we kept going with Denise. 

We met a religious couple with their eighteen-year-old daughter, who were going to get a vanpool with us and spent some time getting to know them. Their daughter loves math like Hadossa and was very sweet. We drank coffee with them while Denise got various strangers to help her get online with her daughter. Finally, Yehoshua and Sara and Pela (the daughter) gave up waiting for Denise and found their own taxi. We exchanged numbers with them and hope to meet them again sometime. Denise eventually finished all her business and we took a vanpool to Jerusalem. I had secretly really wanted to go to Jerusalem right away but didn't think it would be possible. Now, here we were, on our way, to go stay in a stranger's house, and I felt a total peace and confidence that HaShem was guiding us completely. We saw the Temple Mount on the way to her house, but we didn't get to stop there. That is okay. We were utterly exhausted. Denise was also exhausted, so we took catnaps all day at her apartment. She loved having Hadossa help her with every little thing, so Hadossa was her personal assistant when she was awake. But often we all went unconscious for periods of time. We'd awaken, talk, eat, and then fall back to sleep. That happened most of the day. Looking out over her balcony you can see many buildings along the slopes of the hills of Jerusalem and hear all kinds of sounds of the city. The Arabs did their call to prayer a few times and the heat was very intense. It is a dry heat that debilitates you even if you are just standing in place. 

We met Yaki, Denise's neighbor at the next balcony and he invited us over. We sat with him while he and Denise bantered back and forth in Hebrew and he charmed us with food, drink, songs, and dramatic conversation.  Nearly everyone has some kind of broken English in Israel, including Yaki, who speaks with a deep Benjamin Netanyahu-type voice. Denise asked Yaki to drive us all in her car the next day to Tel Aviv. Yaki was happy to oblige. 

Yaki is a sixty-two year old retired man with nothing to do all day. His wife of thirty-six years divorced him and apparently he has five kids somewhere. Denise began trying to push me to like him. Seriously? I just moved from the U.S. and during my first night in Israel I get a man pushed on me? I thought it was very funny. Yaki said he swims into my blue eyes. The Arabs were celebrating Ramadan and fireworks were going off down the hill somewhere. All the Israeli food we had so far was extremely delicious and even the tap water tasted fine. 

When Denise realized I wasn't going to reciprocate flirtations with Yaki, we headed back to Denise's place for the night. She did let me know several times afterwards that he is a "good man with money" so that I would feel as though I was losing out on something. I have to admit it was quite amusing to me. 

Jerusalem
The next morning Denise was only about 3-4 hours late getting ready to go, and we finally got on the road. Yaki likes to sing Frank Sinatra songs and he and Denise have friendly arguments about everything. We got gas, then Denise wanted to stop here, and there. She jumps out and disappears and then reappears insisting we all get out and go into a house hiding behind an arbor full of vines to meet her friends. We enter a beautiful room with stone walls and arches around windows and a very ancient/artistic ambiance. The couple we met are both artists. The man, Dov, wore a kippa and had a long beard. The wife, Yael, had black pigtails and didn't look religious at all. Hadossa is pretty sure the black pigtails was a wig, but if you saw her on the street, you would think she looked more like a fortune-teller. They both sat down with us and asked us questions about our plans. Yaki met them for the first time, too, and Denise showed us off like new toys. 

gate to the dormitories
We finally got on the road to Tel Aviv and I couldn't believe we were actually on our way to the university. After an hour's drive in Denise's Peugeot, Yaki pulled us up to the corner of Levanon and Einstein streets and I checked into my dorm. It is fairly clean, spacious, and has air conditioning. Denise and Yaki departed, and after I unpacked, Hadossa and I set out to find her dorm. One of Hadossa's roommates answered the door. She and the other roommate hadn't been notified that Hadossa was coming and were totally unprepared. They needed some time to clean up and organize the place, so Hadossa stayed in my dorm the first night. My own roommate hadn't showed up yet, anyway.  

hoopoe (Israel's national bird)
The next day was packed full of orientations and meetings. When those finally ended, we moved Hadossa's stuff to her dorm and she started getting settled. She has two roommates, Noga and Esti, both Israeli. Esti was the one we met the first time we came and she immediately identified us as religious because of the way we dress. 

one of the stray cats that live on the campus
Palm trees are everywhere!
Flowers are everywhere!
I won't continue to give daily accounts...I think my story has enough details for now. Each day is filled with new discoveries. Today is our first Shabbat in the land and we are loving the relaxation. It has been quite a week. I am amazed at how much HaShem has prepared us for this move. Staying in England for a month in 2009 helped us with adjusting to the foreign social atmosphere. Staying in Kentucky several times helped us with adjusting to the climate. We don't feel quite so shocked as we thought we would. Israel is beautiful, exotic, and exciting. I have noticed that there is a kind of chaotic, random flavor thrown into everything. There is much to learn...we are loving this new educational experience and are very thankful to be able to do this.
my dorm room