Too Darn Hot
The good news is that you know that armed conflict is in a lull when you can afford to complain about the weather. The bad news is that there’s something to complain about. It’s REALLY hot, fry an egg on the sidewalk hot. Those who have no reason to venture out beyond air conditioning before 5 pm aren’t doing so.
Those who don’t have air-conditioning, like Yael, are melting. Amazing that she can gather the energy to type.
What is up with this humidity? It was not this humid this time last year. It is not as hot and humid as what I grew up with but it is still nearly beyond endurance if you don’t have an air-conditioner. Which I don’t. I have a fan. Actually two fans. They are blowing hot and humid air. Even the kittens are sprawled out and unable to muster the strength to destroy anything in the apartment at the moment. That will change, of course, as soon as it gets cool enough to think about trying to sleep. They will be full of vim and vigor then, knocking things over, jumping on me and being a nuisance until the sun starts streaming in about 6 a.m. and it becomes to hot too sleep (me) and too hot to play (them)…
A week ago the weather was so nice that it was perfect sleeping weather, except that there was a war on and so I was up. Now that the war is off I’d like to be asleep (for maybe a week or two straight) but it is too HOT.
Her personal armageddon
Appropo to Allison’s post (two posts ago) to the effect that Israelis were NOT freaking out today over Iran’s veiled threats to blow us up on August 22 (today), Noorster writes:
I spent the afternoon of Armageddon Day on the beach with Mum. My own personal armageddon came in the shape of Some Guy who kept floating up to me in the water and would not shut the fuck up. I’m seriously considering the religious beach option.
I Read the News Today, Oh Boy
Elisheva is considering cancelling her Jerusalem Post subscription:
I’ve been a big newspaper reader – especially The New York Times – since high school. Since subscribing to an Israeli-centric paper, I realize that there is a major difference in American and Israeli papers. There is so much diversity, so many different issues to report in an American paper: the status of immigration, elections, news from your town, news from the next town over, latest trends – fashion or otherwise, education, nuclear threats, celebrities, 12 different sports, and on and on. It seems like Israeli papers have their priorities cut out for them – Hebrew or English – and they go like this: war -> peace process -> disappointment -> war -> peace process -> pain -> everything else. And the thing is, it’s all personal, even when it’s not war or peace process… Eeverything happening here is personal – from elections to Ethiopians to Maccabbe Tel Aviv. It’s all mine, and it’s all painful when it goes wrong.
The JPost print edition contains tidbits from the NYTimes a few days a week – Week in Review, Business, Op/Eds. Those niblets of American life for me are like finding the cashews in a package of mixed nuts. It’s a few minutes of reading about someone else’s troubles or joys. It’s a few minutes of feeling not-angry, not-frustrated, not-sad (concerning Israel).
In the States, when I used to read about Israel, emotions would flow, and I thought it was personal, but I never realized how personal it could be. Israel, no matter how much I loved her, was always a concept. Now, Israel is daily life, Israel is where I pay my taxes, Israel is the news I read, the only news that rings in my ears. Every. Single. Day.
War, Kibbutz, and a Wedding
Gila (above, left) recently attended the wedding of an old friend from her time on a Kibbutz. The happy event sent her strolling down memory lane . . .
Once upon a kibbutz, 7 years ago, 9 girls and 1 guy came from lands far away, to work the fields or in my case scrub the kitchen with toothbrushes in preparation for Pesach. On the first day I saw a city over yonder and pondered where could that be? The answer received nonchalantly was, “Gaza”. In the months that followed many collectable memories were created….
Partying with Kibbutz boys and returning home at 5am, losing one of the girls temporarily – Keren where were you that night anyway? Arriving back and the shomer (guard) at the gate being unimpressed and as a consequence, by breakfast we already received disapproving comments…you gotta love a Jewish Kibbutz, (not that I really know any kibbutzim that aren’t Jewish).
Waking up to the smell of cows, going to bed with the smell of cows and the smell of cows permeating every crevice of your room…Lice from the Kids…Building a Succah that the entire kibbutz can eat lunch under. Gossiping about everyone, as we got to know them. Cleaning out the pool, spilling paint on the side of the pool, and going to my kibbutz friend, pulling a pouty face and having him save the day…
Now 7 years later, Gaza is still there, but we can no longer hang out at the beach we used to frequent. The kitchen is still there and the tap that pours out oil. The kibbutz boys can still dance the night away. The cows still stink and the paint stain by the pool is recognisable to a trained eye.
“Admidst noises of targeted bombings, the happy couple were whisked away on a tractor to a future kibbutz style.”
That’s one way of drawing tourists back to the Galilee . . .
Leah Guren, a relative newcomer to the blogging scene, lives in Carmiel and reports on this new internal tourism trend:
More ketusha-peepers: Hundreds of residents from the center of the country come north for the weekend to tour ketusha strike sites. Home Command issues stern warnings (to the effect of, “What, are you knuckleheads stupid or something?!”) but this does not deter the tourists. When I mention to Gill that I need to assemble a birthday package for my sister, he suggests including a piece of shrapnel as an interesting gift. I’ll pass, thank you. I’m delighted that our mayor has the crews working top speed to fix all the damage, though I do hope that our kikar habonim sculpture is allowed to remain in its slightly battle-scarred condition.
Meanwhile, the people of Carmiel are attempting to get their lives back as close to normal as possible:
Big is back: Big Center, the largest shopping complex in Karmiel, is back to normal, with jam-packed parking lots and long lines at the cafés this motzei shabbat (Saturday night). We go see the second Pirates of the Caribbean movie, which proves to be just the ticket for some delightful escapism. (I can’t help grinning when I think of the Disney executives who almost wet their pants when they first saw Johnny Depp’s interpretation of a pirate.) After the movie, we grab a bite and enjoy sitting outside. The conversations swirling around us are still flavored by the war, as people relate their own stories, but things are definitely getting back to normal.
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