Move-In

This one goes out to all of the pomegranates out there.

This past Wednesday, I had the good fortune to finally move to my new kibbutz, בית רימון (Bet Rimon, or "Pomegranate House"). In honor of my relocation to my new hilltop home, today's section titles will be "Soldierly Doings", "Comrade Jake's Socialist Paradise Experience for Glory of Mother Country", and "Kibbutz Happenin's."

Soldierly Doings

On Wednesday, August 14th, I attended a תכס פתיחה (Tekes P'ticha, or "Opening Ceremony) for Garin Tzabar, the pre-army program I have joined. The unexpectedly adventurous journey to said ceremony wound through the Tel Aviv University campus and was replete with conflicting directions, treks up nonsensically placed flights of stairs, and bizarre street signs (including one with an arrow pointing directly away from our ceremony, in true "Little Rascals" fashion). I am convinced the route I had to take was specifically designed to weed out the weak from the program. That being said, I am pleased to tell you that Our Hero was able to brave the perils of upper-middle class Tel Aviv and eventually arrive at Smolarz Hall, the site of the ceremony. Upon my arrival, I located my fellow Garin members, filled out some paperwork, and attended a ceremony full of many nice people who said many nice things to the many nice new Garin Members in Hebrew, and then departed to my kibbutz, bringing us to...

Comrade Jake's Socialist Paradise Experience for Glory of Mother Country

So as it would turn out, my Kibbutz is not actually socialist. Roughly ten years ago, the Kibbutz (which had fallen upon hard times) made the decision to privatize. In practice, this means that members of the Kibbutz pay a tax that ensures them some sort of economic safety net as well as entitlement to an education stipend as well as bonds for the businesses (such as the kibbutz refet, or cowpen) that operate on Kibbutz grounds. That being said, there is no communal laundry, or dining hall, the two most commonly found. In fact, there is even a fully privatized housing development on the Kibbutz, which does not receive any of these benefits, but lives in markedly nicer housing.

Less of this...

...and more of this

However, despite "lacking" these services, the kibbutz more than makes up for it with its truly warm population. The folks over here at Bet Rimon have been nothing but welcoming, and a couple on Kibbutz even gave our Garin the gift that keeps on giving: stray kittens. The youth has been particularly welcoming, and has joined up with us for many village pow-wows, box socials, and the like.

Kibbutz Happenin's

So what are these pow-wows, you ask? Most recently, most of the Kibbutz youth (aged 14-19) joined our group for a "poike," a South African pot-luck style stew that is understandably popular in Israel, given that it tastes like the sweet, sweet nectar of the gods. One of the more memorable events that occurred during the poike involved one of the youth, who upon finding out that my Hebrew skills were a bit absent, decided to educate me via rapid fire bursts of Hebrew, shouts, and laughter. 24 hours later and I'm still not sure if

1) she was happy, angry, or amused with me

2) whether what was said was many sentences or one, very complex hebrew word that I have yet to decipher.

*Bonus Section:* What is Garin Tzabar?!
In short, Garin Tzabar is a program that aims to acculturate new immigrants to Israel through a series of pre-army exercises, hikes, אולפן (Ulpan, or Hebrew Language course), and settlement on a Kibbutz. In addition, the program aids us with  sets us up with "adoptive" families. We ( the future soldiers) can go to these families while we are on leave for meals, emotional support, or the odd game of Jenga if the mood so strikes us.





  

No, This Wasn't a One Time Thing

Oh hey, didn't see you there.

My mother used to say that the one thing she learned from being a Manchester coal miner was that I should never give anyone everything they wanted immediately, or they wouldn't respect you. Honoring that statement, I'm saving an introduction for next week.

Soldierly Doings:
Let's get real here. I can't really do all that much to prepare for the army while my running shoes, jumprope, and resistance bands are sitting in a suitcase on my kibbutz. I can promise you I have thought about working out quite a bit though, and sometimes I even get sweaty in the stuffy Yeshiva dorms I'm staying in.

General Observations:

While waiting for a bus to take me to the Malcha Mall in Jerusalem today, I reached into my pocket, fumbled around to try to find my iPod to switch songs (the Lord giveth a Blink-182 craving, the Lord taketh a Blink-182 craving away), and apparently dropped a 10 Agorot coin. How do I know this? Soon after said dropping, I felt a light, but persistent tapping on my shoulder. I originally thought it was some very large bug with discerning taste in human landing pads, but upon trying to swat the imagined bug, I inadvertently high-fived the small Sfardi (a Jew of recent middle-eastern descent) man behind me - the source of the tapping. He was holding my 10 Agorot coin and leaning toward me slightly. I thanked him and told him he could keep it; after all, the thing was worth 2 and a half cents and whenever I see them I am strangely reminded of my time at Chuck E. Cheese's.

Seriously, get out there and defraud your local Chuck E. Cheese. I'm sure they wouldn't even notice.

Mr. Sfardi simply would not have it.

Smiling insistently, he said something along the lines of "אחד ואחד זה שתיים" (echad v'echad zeh shtaim, or one and one is two), and pushed the coin towards my chest. I had the feeling that there was much to be learned from this wizened, mustachioed soul, and took the coin. After taking the coin, he seemed to be more satisfied by the fact I had taken the coin than anything else, as if his fiscal instruction of me was complete. This was probably the fourth or fifth time this sort of thing has happened to me.

Anyone who has spent time in Israel or haggled with an Israeli quickly realizes that Israelis are quite a thrifty bunch. However, it seems to me that it goes way beyond that. It's almost as if Israelis are vicariously thrifty through people. And it's universal. I've seen everyone ranging from Ethiopian kids to Ashkenazi (Jews of recent European decent) college students act the same way in similar situations. I have not been able to understand why this is. However, what I have done is attached tags to the ears of many unwitting Israelis and released them back into their natural habitats, hoping to monitor them and find out what it is that drives this monetary maternalism. I'll keep you, valued reader, posted.

Particularly Good Falafel Balls I have Consumed

Seeing as there are only so many fried bean balls I can consume in a week, this section will deal with restaurants in general. That being said...
Fish 'n' Chips. I had always heard rumors of the mythical reasonably priced cod that could be found in Israel, but I dismissed them right along with the Tremp Angel (the gorgeous driver that picks you up while hitchhiking and immediately demands that you date her) and the bus-without-the-smelly-guy. Oh how wrong I was. 35 Shekel gets you four large pieces of fried cod, a heap of fries, and 4 different kinds of tartar sauce (much to the dismay of Spongebob, I'm sure). Go to there now.

Things I Like

Johnny Cash, the only man I know of who can cover a song by a British rock sensation (the Beatles) and a song by an Angst rock sensation (Nine Inch Nails).

See you soon, faithful reader. Honestly, I simply cannot wait to move to my kibbutz as Drying-Paint-Viewing is rapidly becoming a more and more viable option for me.

And So It Begins...

Why hello there, Casual Reader/Undying Jake-Fan!

You will soon realize that I absolutely hate introductions, so I'll try to make any exposition as quick as possible. As of right now I (Jake Rosenbaum) have made Aliyah. I plan on using this blog to keep friends and family who are stateside posted of any soldierly doings I may have, observations of Israeli society I may make, and particularly good felafel balls I may consume. I also plan on having a section titled "Things I Like" so that you emulate me in hopes of becoming as tall as yours truly.

Soldierly Doings:

Not too much to report on that front (<-- pun possibly intended) as of yet; I visited Beit Rimon (the Kibbutz I'm moving to for the next three-or-so years of my life), and I can tell that the view there makes any possible view in Rochester look as dull as a Pro Ball-in-the-Cup competition. That, in addition to meeting my fantastic new  רכזת קיבוץ ( Rakezet Kibbutz, or kibbutz coordinator) definitely helped assuage some of the not-quite-so-small butterflies that were raging in my stomach on my flight from JFK.

The View (photo credit: Adina Israel)

The Translation. It was certainly a good try, Google Translate.

General Observations

While Jerusalem was a fantastic place to really get to know Israel and become acquainted with it's many-faceted population, I absolutely cannot wait to get out of here and move to somewhere a bit more rural. The traffic here is Rush Hour-esque. That being said, it does boast some fantastic felafel joints which brings me to my next segment:

Particularly good Felafel Balls I Have Consumed

On Rechov HaNeviim in Jerusalem houses the best felafel joint I've ever been to. המרכז הפלאפל התימני (HaMerkaz HaFelafel HaTeimani, or the Center for Yemenite Felafel) an absolutely fantastic place to eat, despite its name sounding like it's a halfway house for socioeconomically disadvantaged felafel balls. The owner is a genuinely nice guy and constantly gives away free felafel balls as well as fries if he is in a particularly good mood (all of it unprovoked, by the way). The felafel itself is incredibly fine (in every sense of the word) and has the strange quality of almost melting in your mouth. Everyone should and will go there. Of course, I must thank Yomi Groner for introducing my family and I to this place a year and a half ago (Yomi is also an incredible tour guide; I highly recommend using him for all of your future tours that need guiding).

Things I Like

(I thought I'd play it safe today. Edgier things that I like to come)

That'll do (pig) it for today. Will Jake ever establish some sort of Israeli accent? Will he attempt to revive his admittedly dormant workout routine? Are there any more felafel stands worth noting?! The answers to all of this and more on my next post!