These were some of my first impressions, the first year of
aliya, of living in Israel. Nine years later, they still ring
true.
This is HOME and when I try to figure out why this feels like
home, since I frequently get lost and nothing looks as it did
in Canada -- logic does not fully explain it. It IS home.
There are so many new sights and exciting things to see, but
not touristy ones like museums. I mean, everyday delights
that stir my senses on each and every walk; `ordinary' sights
like palms and olive trees, and incredible fruit trees,
scents of ambrosia that continually follow me.
Religious areas with a sea of black -- men in suits and hats;
older children overseeing younger ones so competently,
willingly and lovingly (I rarely see siblings fight.) Schools
with boys learning Torah by singing loudly and joyously, or
children in schoolyards playing delightedly,
cooperatively.
Where everything is written in Hebrew and Russian,
infreqently in English, with most people speaking Hebrew. Yet
I still find enough people who know some English or Yiddish
to help me and converse with me. Nine years later and still
struggling to learn Hebrew! When I do make an attempt, the
listener usually switches to English rather than hear such a
tortuous rendition of such a beautiful, melodious
language.
People all around me who live modestly -- certainly far below
the usual Canadian lifestyle -- yet are happy and don't seem
to know that they ought to be feeling worried or deprived.
People so willing to help out with whatever, be it names of
contacts for jobs, explanations about how the `system' works,
or directions, even if they are busy themselves with their
own work; they still have time to help others. People filled
with the goodness of life.
Little boys standing on the corner, waiting to be crossed.
And strangers offering to do so, even though they are a
distance away and headed in the opposite direction.
Houses made only of Jerusalem stone and cement, rather than
the brick or wood I am used to or aluminum siding.
Grocery stores where if I can't read the name of the item, or
the food is one I am not familiar with, or the ingredients
are written in Hebrew only, someone nearby is always willing
to explain.
Apartments which are much smaller than ours in Canada, often
with many more people living in them, yet everything that is
needed fits in, somehow.
Bathrooms usually consisting of one small room with a toilet
and a separate room with sink, tub and shower -- a `telephone
receiver' that one must hold in one hand while washing in the
other, probably so designed to save water.
Heavy traffic with the continual blare of horns in downtown
Jerusalem.
Soldiers everywhere as they travel either on or off duty,
with their rifles held in hand. Soldiers occasionally
accompanying buses. Some of our realities.
Every religious home with at least one wall of Torah
books.
Buses equipped with radios or cassette players. Drivers who
turn up the volume for every newscast for the benefit of the
passengers, or drivers with kipot tuned into chareidi
music or Torah tapes. The Israeli passion of being well
informed by the media, without everyone being current, since
survival may depend on knowing...
Seeing stray wild cats who live on garbage. They are
tolerated by Israelis since they perform a wonderful service
of controlling the rodent population. Rarely are cats home
pets here. No dogs whatsoever in chareidi neighborhoods, or
any pets, for that matter.
Watching the amount of water one uses since each apartment
has its own water meter and one is charged for usage.
The high price of clothing, sometimes three times what I paid
in Canada -- [how about visiting clothing gemachs and
buying at 5% of what you paid there?] yet the beautiful
clothes [most] religious women wear while still dressed
attractively and modestly.
Everyone talking to everyone else on buses, in lines --
everywhere. At the bank, in the supermarket, in the shuk --
especially on Fridays! Anywhere. They may not even be talking
to each other but simply offering unsolicited advice to pure
strangers. Children are usually the object of such advice. A
young mother may enter a bus with a young child. Is the child
dressed warmly enough? Too warmly? Is she kvetching because
she needs a drink? When I questioned a passenger about this,
she replied that since we are all one big family, it is
appropriate to care about what everyone is doing and help
them out with advice, especially if they seem young and
inexperienced.
The frequent sirens of ambulances and police cars.
Loudspeakers mounted on cabs announcing imminent and/or
eminent funerals, seasonal sales, or chizuk rallies.
Even calling people to vote.
Sidewalks made of stone squares, often with some missing or
broken. Sand and seashells imbedded in these spots (not in
inland Jerusalem, but in coastal cities like Bnei Brak). Sand
everywhere -- at construction sites, rubble piles, outside
one's house. Sand everywhere. Also so much building and
renovation going on.
Children having few toys and still being able to amuse
themselves.
The many beggars on the streets, especially in high
pedestrian-traffic areas, poor neighborhoods and in tourist
areas. There is always someone less fortunate to be helped
out.
Pre-Shabbos excitement as everyone, religious or not, is out
buying challos, cakes, garinim (sunflower and
pumpkin seeds). Long lines at bakeries in Meah Shearim, at
the many florists, or last minute groceries. All for
Shabbos!
Everyone wishing everyone else "Shabbat Shalom" on Friday and
Shabbos, and talking about how they spent Shabbos, and
greeting friends with "Shavua tov" all day Sunday.
Anyone asking for information or simply chatting on the phone
from Thursday till Friday candlelighting will end off the
conversation with a "Shabbat Shalom," religious or not.
Guards in all public places checking bags going in, not so
concerned about shoplifting as with security.
Heimishe shops selling only one type of item: fruits
and vegetables; non-perishable groceries; drugstores with
only drugs, hardware, small health food stores, book stores
[a parsha onto itself!], baby clothes, sewing notions,
school supplies. They are often bustling with people in a
small space, asking prices, discussing the merchandise,
talking to an incidental shopmate about the product. These
sights and sounds remind me of growing up near St. Lawrence
St. in Montreal. But progress is catching up to Israeli
society, with supermarket chains that sell everything, as in
Canada, and shopping malls, and even a Canadian-style
pharmacy.
A country where everyone knows what is happening politically
and has much to say about it. Where criticism of everything
pertaining to government is common, loud and knowledgeable as
well. Like one big family.
Before I came here, I was told by so many people about all
the difficulties of living in Israel. Since I knew I wanted
living here to be a positive experience, I made the decision
to see differences rather than difficulties. This attitude
has filled the transition with excitement and anticipation,
and has been the difference between learning to live here
like an Israeli or remaining an outsider. If I wanted it to
be just like Canada, why come here, altogether?
I love these differences!
