Slice of the Tzur Hadassah commute, minharot style.

Driving home to Tzur Hadassah through the minharot (tunnels) is not always peaches. On our way home today, passing Husan, Beitar and Wadi Fukin, we found soldiers everywhere, cracking down, probably on the hunt for someone specific from a tip-off.

We were greeted by this right as we were getting to the machsom (checkpoint), literally 3 minutes from home:

We recently discovered that going through Ein Kerem and Hadassah Hospital up to Tzur Hadassah can be just as quick, depending where we’re coming from. Shame we didn’t think of it before we sat in this for an hour. And the Ein Kerem way is so much prettier.

The Israeli rabies experience.

Well, now I know what it’s like to wonder if you have rabies from a stray cat… in Israel.

Last night, hanging out in the hood, a small kitten – probably two months old – ran into our friends’ house and after several other attempts, we were resorted to chasing it into corners, until it got stuck and I grabbed it from the back. I held it out in front of me and raced outside while the kitten, stuggling furiously, managed to scratch my arm and hiss at me. Pretty normal cat captivity stuff, if you ask me.

I managed to chuck it over the gate (it’s true what they say about kittehs landing on their feet) and tend to my wounds. I knew deep down all was fine; the chances were ridiculously low and the kitten was normal looking, fearful and pretty much reacted rightly. But, I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t completely morbid inside, so I assumed that I was developing crazy-syndrome and should really go to the clinic in the morning.

The clinic led to the doctor, the doctor led to the Jerusalem Health Ministry to double-check and to record the case.

I will say this on behalf of the Jerusalem municipality: the Health Ministry was a pleasant surprise. Most people there – all colors and stripes and numbers of layers of clothing – were there to get travel shots. I went straight to the “kalevet” office (כלבת, rabies) and gave over my account. I was told to go see the in-house rabies/scary-spreadable-disease doctor and he was also quite pleasant. He calmly let me know there hasn’t been a rabies case in four years in the Jerusalem area, and that any cases they’ve had since then are from the Golan Heights.

So, if you live in the Golan Heights, watch out for stray kitties in your homes.

Here are the battle scars, in case you’re into that sort of thing:

kitteh battle scars

Definitely a learning experience, albeit not asked for; except for maybe picking up a stray kitten in my bare hands. Last year I was bitten by a domestic dog in the States. I went through the mandatory morbid period and went in for a tetnis shot. Somehow, recording my case with the Health Ministry made me feel good. Like I was part of something bigger: a large potential-rabies pool.

As for the rest of my day? Let’s just say the rabies fears were the highlight. But that’s for another time.

Tonight's rally for the release of Gilad Shalit.

Amidst the cries for Olmert to quit, be embarrassed and work harder towards the release of the kidnapped soldiers, there was plenty of emotion to go round.

Of course, the major focal point of sentiment came from Noam Shalit’s short but necessary speech to open the rally outside the Prime Minister’s residence in Jerusalem.

It’s an absolute shame when fathers have to become politicians. It’s everything wrong.

Waiting for Shalit.

Today is two years from the day that Gilad Shalit was kidnapped by Hamas on the Israeli border during non-war time.

There will be a rally held outside the Prime Minister’s residence in Kikar Paris in Jerusalem, from 7-9pm.

All day I’ve been reading Facebook status updates and Twitter messages from people who are waiting for Gilad Shalit, Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev to be returned home.

Waiting for Shalit

Without the efforts from the boys’ families and citizen protests, I’m fairly sure the Israeli government would not have this on the forefront of the agenda. I know it’s difficult to balance these individual lives with the rest of the government’s duties, but someone has to remember, someone has to persist.

Because God-knows these soldiers – dead or alive – are in no power to right now.

Katamon drama: Not just for new olim anymore.

I’ve come to respect homemade Israeli television. It’s creative, it’s bizarre, it’s actually pretty good sometimes. Hey, there’s a reason why Jews rule Hollywood, right? coming to a televisia near you.

Here’s the latest from Yes, coming to a televisia near you: סרוגים (as in, kippa sruga, or the yarmulke associated with the dati-leumi universe), a drama about the religious dating life in Katamon.

Wait, what? Can’t we just look outside our windows and see it for ourselves?

Nah. Watch it on TV… or on the website. Maybe it will cause a sense of reflection. At the very least, it should cause some laughs.

The creepiest thing about where I live.

Not many people know just how far my imagination goes or how morbid and crazy I can be. With that said, I would like to introduce you to one of the freakiest, creepiest things about Israel for me:

Emek Ha'ela Teleport

The teleport at Emek Ha’ela – a valley about five minutes outside of Beit Shemesh – completely creeps me out. I have driven past it three times now since moving to Tzur, on my way towards the south.

Giant man-made structures have always freaked me out – the Eiffel Tower, the World Trade Center, bridges of all kinds… And these so-called satellites are not only no exception, but possibly the worst I’ve ever encountered.

What do you mean, why? Alien transmissions are lasering at me while I drive past these freakishly giant structures. One day these things are going to start walking around. Doesn’t that bother anyone else?

There they are, just chilling without any warning… so close to where humans reside. Imagine living with that view, of the alien transmissions every day? Kill me.

There are the little baby ones next to the momma… *shudder*

A side-view. Nightmares coming true. Anyone see War of the Worlds?

I hate Steven Spielberg.