Oops... I may have spoken too soon...

Last night snow fell all over Israel (though not here in the Krayot)... check out Yediot Ahronot for some amazing pictures: http://www.ynet.co.il/articles/0,7340,L-3844235,00.html

(The captions are classic: "C'mo b'Europa!" "Choref amiti"-- Just like Europe! Real winter!) 

Bundle up when you come inside!

Last night was our coldest night so far, because it got down to only about 5 degrees above zero (Celsius), which is about 40 degrees Fahrenheit. I still go jogging in short sleeves most mornings and leave the windows open most days.

I grew up in Pennsylvania, so I remember weather that hovered around zero Fahrenheit for weeks on end, but Pennsylvania homes are built for cold weather. Our thermostat and central heating kept our hours a toasty 70 degrees F, and every other part of our life was arranged so that it involved a minimum of actual time spent outdoors. Wood and carpet floors stayed pretty warm (and of course we could always huddle over heating vents if we wanted).

But the problem with Israeli winters is that Israeli apartments are built for summer. Tile floors are refreshing in summer and frigid in winter. We have drafty windows, heavy blinds that block out light (or let in cold air), and cold, thick cement walls. Heavy rains drench me as I run to the yarkan to buy veggies and fruit, and our laundry struggles to dry on racks in our cold "service balcony." (Most Israelis don't even own clothes dryers.)  Central heating? HA! Our only built-in heat source is the "heat" function on our air-conditioning unit, which has one setting: power-guzzle. In fact, our apartment is so good at keeping heat out that it's usually warmer outside than inside in the winter-- I huddle inside wearing four layers of clothing, then step outside and peel almost all of it off.

This winter, we finally broke down and bought several little space heaters. Now life is good. :) (To be fair, I'm also wearing two sweaters and a scarf.) We've learned to place slippers strategically close to the edge of the bed, sleep under down comforters, drink tea, and wear lots of layers. I've also discovered that it actually isn't a good idea to rest my crocs on our space heater... they melt:

Apparently sweatpants melt as well. Don't ask me how I know this.

Of course, our cats have found other ways to stay warm, which mainly involve mauling each other and sitting on various electronic devices around our house. Pixel spends hours every day curled up on top of our HOT cable box (I think he likes hot appliances more than HOT guys), and he recently took it upon himself to compose two separate blog posts while sitting on my keyboard... isn't he talented? I'm keeping his posts up, partly because I'm fascinated by how linkwithin calculates posts related to "xc#2.s!"

Hope you're staying warm!

Celebrate Sylvester! (Or don't. Nobody really cares.)

No, not this Sylvester. (Source: http://www.swapmeetdave.com/Humor/Cats/Sylvester.htm)

New Years Eve was actually the first "holiday" I ever experienced in Israel, on my Birthright Israel trip as a sophomore in college. (I went to Israel just because it was a free trip and I liked to travel... I didn't expect it to change my life so drastically and ultimately send me here!) On December 31, 2001, our group was staying in a hotel in Jerusalem. The Chabad rabbis leading our trip bought us fairly massive amounts of alcohol, and at midnight we stood on the balconies of a party hall near the top of the hotel, sipping vodka and orange juice screwdrivers, and waiting for the fireworks to mark the start of 2002.

They didn't come.

We finally saw a few little pops and fizzles way off in the direction of Bethlehem.

This was perhaps my first introduction to the vast differences between Israeli and American culture. I wasn't surprised by the lack of Christmas decorations in Israel, but no celebration of New Year's Eve?? 

To Israelis, New Year's Eve isn't really our holiday. Yes, we might think about going to a pub (especially in Tel Aviv, den of heathens that it is), or we might go for a late meal at a restaurant, but if January 1st falls on a weekday, we'll be working. In fact, the very name by which Israelis call New Year's Eve implies that it's a Christian holiday: "Sylvester," which refers to the anti-Semitic pope whose saint's day falls on New Years Eve. (To boot, "Silvester" is the term used by Germans for New Year's Eve. Nothing like the dual connotation of Nazis and Jew-hating Popes to dampen celebration!)

Because most Israelis are off on Friday, more Israelis are going out to celebrate Sylvester this year than normal. However, when one of my friends posted a call for Sylvester plans on Facebook, she got back the following  suggestions: prepare cholent, clean the house, go to sleep early. (And for the record, my friend is about as secular as they get!) There may have been a banner wishing Kiryat Bialik a Sweet New Year and "only good things" in September, but the only sign of Sylvester here was a sale on sparkling white wine at the Super, and that could be coincidence.

So, celebrate Sylvester tonight. Or don't. Either way. Shabbat Shalom, and oh, what it is those Americans say? Eppy New Year?

P.S. My husband and I are going to stay up and celebrate with strawberries and champagne... what can we say, we'll always be American. :)

P.P.S. Heh... I just caught a typo in the version of this message that I posted originally. For the record, we were not partying on top of a hotel in Jerusalem on January 31, 2001, although that would certainly have explained the lack of fireworks... 

Work doesn't stop at the end of December!

In the US (and in the blogosphere), almost everything comes to a halt between Christmas and New Year's day. Even all my Jewish family and friends in the US are on vacation. It's the US equivalent of the "achrei hachagim" phenomenon that sweeps Israel every fall and spring.

Here in Israel, though, Dec. 25 is just another day. My husband and I went out for (amazing) sushi for lunch on Friday not because only Asian restaurants were open, but because we felt like soy sauce and wasabi with a little raw fish on the side. (Or maybe that was just me.) I went fabric shopping and got a great deal on Ultrasuede to reupholster my sofa. Our only rush was to get all our errands done before Shabbat, because everything shuts down from Friday night to Saturday night in Israel-- it was only part way through the day that I realized Americans were celebrating.

By the way, here's one of my favorite ways to identify true Sabras: ask them when "Chag HaMolad" (Holiday of the Birth, aka Christmas) happens. If they guess the wrong day in December, you know they're the real deal. The one possible exception might be the armies of young Israelis hawking Dead Sea products in US malls-- believe me, they understand the concept of a "holiday season."

My husband is back at work, so I've been using this time to catch up on my own rather intense backload of work for my day job. And, oh yes, Sunday's a work day. If you're an American coming to Israel, prepare for your internal clock to get confused.

There are, though, signs that Christmas happened here. Russian grocery stores send out advertising circulars covered in Christmas trees, which makes me kind of sad. I mean, yes, I know that the communists did a good job of convincing Russian Jews that these are secular New Year's Trees and should be in everyone's homes, but come on, Russim-- you're in Israel now. In the Arab neighborhoods in Haifa, a few strands of Christmas lights blink from balconies. Other than that, though, life carries on. I saw menorahs dripping in stores and booths in the mall during Chanukah, but no Christmas garlands or sales the past few days. No "Happy Holidays" from people who really mean "Merry Christmas."

It's nice. :)

The Commercialization of Chanukah (Dreidel washing machine, anyone?)

Nah, this post isn't actually a rant about how commercialized Chanukah has become. In fact, I love Chanukah in Israel-- everyone gets together with family members, but gift-giving isn't the norm (although parents tend to give gelt money to their kids). Because Chanukah celebrates the burning of oil in a lamp for eight days, we eat all kinds of food fried in oil... mainly jelly donuts, or sufganiot.  Oh, and we don't light a "menorah"-- a "menorah" is what we keep on our bedside tables so that we can read books at night. (Menorah just means "lamp" in Hebrew.) The actual Hebrew word for menorah is "chanukiah"-- just so we're clear.

In other words, Chanukah in Israel is just what it should be: a celebration of light, oil, and family. (And the triumph of Judaism over assimilation. Nah, mostly just light, oil, and family.) Just as the four sons from the Hagaddah showed up in Passover advertising, so do ads around this time of year reference Chanukah.

An oleh named Jacob Richman does an amazing job of encouraging aliyah and gathering resources to help olim. For Chanukah, he collected a number of Israeli chanukah ads. Here are a few of my favorites:

Translation: "No matter how to turn it, this is the number one tuna in the world."

 

Translation: "The Mall of the Negev invites you to celebrate the holiday exactly like the Maccabis." (I'm honestly not sure what that means, but that's a wonderful picture of a sufganiah. Mmmmm.)

Washing machines and ovens in the shape of dreidels. 'Nuff said.

Ok, the thing I like about the one above is the punning. Up top, it says "A great miracle is happening here," which is a pun on what our dreidels say in Israel: "A great miracle happened here." (In the US, dreidels say "a great miracle happened there."  Ha. :)  The second line essentially says "Amazing sales for Chanukah at the Mashbir for the consumer" However, instead of "amazing," it actually uses the word "madlikim," which literally means "turn on" or "light up" and is slang for hot, super, great, cool. Get it? Get it? The Chanukah sale lights you up. 

Here's a clearer example of the same pun:

Translation: "Happy Chanukah at Auto Depot. An Amazing (madlikah) Present for those who buy more than 399 shekels..." I'll admit that sales are often referred to as "madlik" all year round, but I prefer to see this word choice as a pun at Chanukah.

Jacob Richman uploaded many more and provided translations of all of them, so definitely check out the full collection here.

After years of lip-service to Chanukah in the US (hey FarmVille, just because you call it a "holiday tree" doesn't mean it's part of my holiday), it's refreshing to actually see Chanukah reflected everywhere around me, from the Chanukiot glowing in the windows to the displays of chocolate money, jelly donuts and candles in the corner supermarket.

Chanukah Sameach!

A second spring...

Back in Pennsylvania, December always ushered in months of monochrome: gray trees, white snow, brown grass, sometimes a little tan mud. Here in Israel, though, everything is just starting to turn green again after the long, dry summer. On my morning walks with a friend, I find myself captivated by the lush grass growing in a ditch or the feathery shoots of dill in a farmer's field. (This isn't exactly conducive to maintaining a brisk pace!) Even the courtyard of our apartment building is getting green again.

Remember, this was the tree in our courtyard in June, when a branch fell off from lack of water:

And remember, we had three more months of NO rain after that (although nightly light watering kept the grass somewhat alive).

Here's that same tree now, as seen through the bars in our kitchen window:

The grass is still patchy, but it has that vibrant green of spring growth.

Except that it's December.

I love Israel. :)

It wasn't just Kiryat Bialik...

Here's a youtube video of Hertzeliya (near Tel Aviv) on Sunday:



Here's an even more impressive film: one of my friends took this video on his way to work through Haifa yesterday.



(I hope he had both hands on the wheel... those are geysers!) Last night, I was on one of the streets in the video. The water(falls) had cleared, but slabs of asphalt lifted from the road littered the parking spaces.

Kiryat Motzkin used to have the nickname "Agam Motzkin"-- Motzkin Lake-- because it flooded so often in the wintertime. As Doron said in the comments on Sunday's post, the primary reason that Israeli streets flood so badly when we DO get rain likes in Israel's "yiyeh beseder" attitude: ehhhhh, there probably won't be bad rain this winter. Why would be possibly need to clean fallen leaves and trash out of our storm drains?

On the plus side, though, the air smells like springtime, and the grass in the yard is already greener. A strong breeze whips in through my open window. The sky is deep, clear blue. Time to go hang laundry outside! (Did I mention that hardly anyone in this country owns a dryer?)

Every long-term Israeli I meet says that winters used to be much colder and wetter here. In recent years, winters have been warm(ish) and dry, plunging the water level in the Kinneret to dangerous lows. Let's hope this winter marks the shift of weather back to old patterns rather than a blip in global warming.

Bring on the rains!

Dude! (Shemesh, that is.)

On the roof of every Israeli apartment building you find water heaters and solar panels-- the solar water heater is known (in one of the most fabulous Israeli appliance names) as a dude shemesh. In a country with this much sun, it only makes sense for us to heat our water using solar energy.

In the summer, this means that we have hot water all day long without paying a dime for heating. In the winter, you have to plan your showers carefully-- you can usually shower with hot water in the middle of the day, but in the evening you often need to heat the water using electricity (via a special switch in everyone's home-- if you flip a switch in your new Israeli apartment and nothing appears to happen, you may be heating your water). It takes about a half hour for the water in our dude shemesh to heat. Some people even use timers to insure hot water at specific times during the summer.

Don't forget to clean off your solar panels every so often! Dusty solar panels can't collect sunlight.

Are you a heat-at-specific-times or a flip-the-switch-and-wait kind of winter showerer?

A Quick and Easy Guide to Living in Celsius

When I first arrived in Israel, I had a very hard time gleaning anything meaningful from the weather report. Was I supposed to wear a coat in 20 degree weather?? What did it mean that the weekend would get up to 35?

I'm not alone. I once saw approximately this dialogue on Martha Stewart's TV show:

GUEST: It was very hot in Abu Dhabi. The temperature was about 37 degrees Celsius.
MARTHA: What is that in Fahrenheit?
GUEST: I think about 70 degrees.
MARTHA: Oh, that's not that hot.

(37 degrees Celsius is actually 98 degrees Fahrenheit.)

Yes, there are formulas to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, but these usually involve complicated formulas and knowledge of the number of times a grasshopper's wings beat per second. What I really need to know is this: should I wear a coat?

So here's my handy-dandy guide to living in Celsius.

If the temperature is in the 40s: It's HOT. Going outside is actually dangerous. The ocean will feel like a hot bath. Even in the shade, sweat will stream down your body. Close all of the trisim, turn on the air conditioning and drink lots of water. Any food you consume should be cold. (Farhrenheit equivalent: 100 and above. It actually got to this temperature in Haifa just a few weeks ago.)

If the temperature in the 30s: It's hot, but not HOT. You can probably go outside with proper precautions. Wear shorts and sleeveless shirts or light cotton clothing. It's too hot to wear full-length jeans or socks. You can probably handle a warm falofel so long as it's accompanied by a cold drink... although be warned, ice does not come standard in Israeli soft drinks. This weather is typical of the entire summer in Israel, except when it gets HOT, and is perfect for a game of matkot on the beach and a dip in the Mediterranean. (Rough Fahrenheit equivalent: the 90s.) Note: the upper 30s are HOT. If temp is 37 or above, follow guidelines for the 40s.

If the temperature is in the 20s: This is known as "mezeg avir naim"-- pleasant weather. It is warm but not sweltering. This weather (typical for October-November in Israel) is perfect for strolling around outside in jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and sandals. You don't need a jacket but you probably don't need air conditioning. Kick out the grill and mangal some meat! Keep a light blanket near your bed, but you might not need it. (Rough Fahrenheit equivalent: the 70s.)

If the temperature is in 10s: This weather is cool, but not cold. You will probably want a blanket at night and a light jacket if you go outside. You might even want to wear socks, and you will probably appreciate hot soup for dinner. (Rough Fahrenheit equivalent: the 50s.) This temperature is typical of the Israeli winter.

If the temperature is in the 0s: This is what Israelis consider cold (and Americans where I come from consider normal fall weather). Wear a fairly warm jacket and warm shoes. Israelis turn on their heaters and bundle up in hats and scarves in weather like this. Because your house will still not be very good at heating up and staying warm, sleep with a thick feather blanket at night. (Rough Fahrenheit equivalent: the 30s.)

If the temperature is below 0: Israelis consider temperatures below zero almost too cold to bear. They will avoid going outside and will sit around huddled under blankets at home. They may or may not own mittens and so will be cold and grumpy when they emerge into the freezing air. If you own a warm winter coat, wear it. At least, this is what I guess happens-- it never got below zero last year in the Krayot. (Rough Fahrenheit equivalent: 32 degrees and below.)