Hello from Jerusalem!
This week began my adventures as a college graduate in a new
country, walking the line of the familiar (Jerusalem, English, family) and the
unfamiliar (Jerusalem, Hebrew, new people).
It’s been a whirlwind of five days and it’s not settling down anytime
soon, but I’m trying to enjoy it all, take everything in, and follow wherever
my instinct leads me. Sometimes that’s
down strange streets that I shouldn’t be walking on, but right now it’s in a
wonderful coffee shop with a huge salad that I simply cannot finish and the
first wifi I’ve gotten of the trip.
Where am I living?
Great question, I’d like to know the answer to that, too. I’ve been staying with my cousin Michal in
her studio apartment in the neighborhood of Nachlaot while searching for
apartments. Michal is an angel. She is graciously sharing her home, her time,
and her friends and I would probably be living on the street if she were not
here to have me. Since my arrival on
Thursday evening, I’ve seen seven different apartments and am hoping to sign,
or at least solidify my placement, by tonight.
So I probably will not move in before Rosh Hashanah like I had hoped,
but I am doing my best and meeting some really cool people throughout the
search. Not to mention some adorable
guys who just happen to have my number now.
On Friday the plan was simple; meet with Aunt Shirah, open a
bank account, and then continue searching for apartments. But nothing here is simple and after asking
Shirah in advance if going to the bank on Friday would be a problem, because
Israel has weird laws, we called in advance and then showed up. Just to be told that Americans cannot open
bank accounts on Friday because and I quote “Obama made a new law and so we
cannot do Americans on Friday.” Thus
begins the classic Israel experiences that will continue throughout my
“temporary sojourn” here. See, I need an
Israeli bank account so that I can write checks for rent and take out money
without a bank fee. But of course ALL
banks charge fees when you withdraw money from them no matter what (scam city,
population every bank in Israel) so the bank was only as pressing as the
apartment hunt was successful. Luckily,
or not, for me, I had a few days to sort that out. I retuned on Sunday to open the bank account
with a woman who opened my Saba and Savta’s accounts for them when they made
aliyah (more classic Israel, this time in a good way), and after two hours of
simply waiting, and another 90 minutes of broken English, decent Hebrew, and
approval from the Tel Aviv office, I now have signed a million papers that seem
to say that I have a bank account. This
of course is still to be determined as I did not yet receive a bank card,
checks, or have any money in the bank. I
kind of think that I signed my life away to the Israeli government, but only
time will tell.
Some of you have asked me about my safety. I am completely fine and the country is doing
great. I suppose the unofficial welcome
to Israel has been that I have a gas mask.
But we’re all great over here.
Jonah, who I saw on Monday when I went to Tel Aviv to help move him in,
unfortunately must stay on base for Rosh Hashanah because of what’s going on up
north. He blames Syria, I blame the army....
Semantics. In the mean time, life goes
on and my quest for the best coffee in Jerusalem continues.
The transition is difficult- it’s hard to be in a limbo-kind-of-vacation-apartment-searching-holiday
meal-crashing-not-yet-working period of time, but I’m trying to make it
work. Walking around a lot, catching up
with friends, and altogether feeling good and healthy.
The good news? I don’t
think it will ever get old waking up in the hot Jerusalem sun and feeling the cool breeze at night. I’ll use that as my
guide over the next few days as we bring in a new year and hopefully a new
apartment.
Shana Tova,
Sara Miriam
