There's nothing to make you feel more a part of a society's special mosaic than to find yourself arriving at the sealed entrance of the Unemployment Office, joining a small mob of people across all of Israeli demographics, all staring at the printout sloppily taped to the heavy doors... ...that the ministry is on strike.
10 Ways Living in Israel is Not What You Think: vote for my Expats Awards entry!
There are a million ways living in Israel is just not what you may have thought... I chose 10 of those and made them my entry for the Expat Blog Awards! 10 Ways Living in Israel is Not What You Think I'm the only entry from Israel, so LET'S GET LOUD! Like? Vote! Leave a... Continue Reading →
Oh Chanukah, oh Chanukah, come… on, diaspora mama.
Well here's a first. Last week the kids and I were in the kitchen making latkes (that was also a first, and it was kinda obvious). Playing in the background: a Chanukah songs cd my mom had brought from the States. So, you know, some kind of boy's choir-esque English-Hebrew mix. We were singing along;... Continue Reading →
Of life in the shtetl; Tevye had a point
A fiddler on the roof... it sounds crazy. But here, in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us... is a fiddler on the roof. Before I lived here in Israel, I lived in a tight-knit Jewish shtetl called New York. Trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking... Continue Reading →
lizrael update: the expat-makes-a-visit edition
Living in Israel (and probably many other countries as an American expat) is an exercise in being happy with what you have, and I feel lucky to have even scratched the surface of that sentiment. Occasionally the conversation comes up with fellow expats here and I'm no longer surprised to admit that I'm happier here... Continue Reading →
Getting your feet (ritually) wet: An American-Israeli’s mikvah story
Perhaps, for a taharat-mishpacha-keeping American-Israeli olah (female American immigrant to Israel who keeps laws of family purity), nothing else can quite epitomize the cultural differences of here and there better than... the mikvah. Because I got married in Israel, my mikva knowledge and experiences have been molded here. The closest I got in the States before... Continue Reading →
Organ donation in Israel: the good, the bad, the depressing, the options
So... what happens after we die? One thing we know for sure - (ok, two things, for starters, our bodies decompose after some awkward nail and hair growth) - one sure thing is that we leave behind the living. The healthy living. The barely living. The newly living. The next in line. Organ donation is... Continue Reading →
I’ve officially lived in Israel too long
Listening to a friend's story about a guy's bachelor party in North America. It ends with one of their other friends telling off some strippers. My first thought is, "Wow, he told strippers off in Hebrew?!"
Life in Israel: boys will be boys in flower crowns
Israeli kindergartens love crowns. This is the first year I've been personally exposed to the Israeli flower garland thing. In Hebrew, זר. Kids in gan and early elementary school wear these pixie crowns for birthdays, celebrations, ceremonies. Naturally, the Shavuot chagiga in gan is one of them, and between his gan birthday and this, Koala's now... Continue Reading →
To the immigrant parents I grew up with:
Dear immigrant parents of childhood friends, Hi. How are you? Have I told you lately your English is incredible? It was really fun growing up with your kid. Maybe I'm still even friends with your kid. Most of my friends from childhood had immigrant parents it seems. It really felt that way, at least. To... Continue Reading →
Do it for the Anglo teens: Sponsor my 10k run for Team Crossroads
Hello, it's that time of year again where I get off my ass, get motivated by some grace of god, and run a 10k and then feel awesome about myself (then stop and procrastinate another 3-6 months). This time, I'll run as part of the Jerusalem Marathon, and I'm going to do it as a... Continue Reading →
Thanksgiving in Israel, ceasefire edition.
I just OWNED my Americanness at our local Mister Zol. Usually my Australian huz deals with the turkey ordering and picking up. Blasphemy, I know. I've been passive about it because I always felt silly ordering a whole turkey at a chicken counter in Israel. So when I approached the counter, my language evolved from... Continue Reading →