Day 16 (Erev Shabbat once more)

Took BSM to the daycare center today, just to hang out with him there. After about 10 minutes, the head of his daycare group told me to skedaddle for an hour, so I did. That was unexpected, and after a tiny wrench, a nice break. Not only did I get to wash so many dishes, but I got to eat breakfast in the dining hall without figuring out baby+food line=???

Also, we finally met with the Rabbi today: since our 2nd or 3rd day here, he's been asking when we could meet, and I was starting to feel terrible about how long it was taking to sit down with him. Nothing too exciting: he asked us where we were from, where we went to school, etc, and then he told us about various classes, where the books are, etc. He also gave us the low-down on Purim here: it's nice, it's quiet, it's orderly. We're probably going to go to Yerushalayim and celebrate Purim with the Husbinator's Rebbe from Yeshiva. More on that as we figure it out!

OK, it's 1:30, so I'm going to shut down the computer and get the apartment ready for Shabbos.

Day 15 (observational)

We had a bit of a rough night last night with the Babe-o, so my morning activity (and Husbinator's afternoon activity) was napping. Between that and not actually meeting up with the head of the kibbutz to discuss our contract, it was yet another slow day. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Tonight, after the Husbinator was home from Ma'ariv, and dinner was cooking, I walked over to the mikvah to toyvel a frying pan we bought yesterday. (We brought a dairy pot with us, and were sorely feeling the lack of a dairy pan.) Striding through the cool evening air, the faint smell of cow-dung wafting through the kibbutz, I thought, "I was created for this." I immediately amended that with, "Not quite; I was created to serve G-d," but the feeling remains. There is something overwhelmingly peaceful here, and it strikes a chord in me.

I still don't see how it's practical for us to live here permanently--my independent streak, bordering on contrariness, is the first of many issues--but I love it. Maybe just because it reminds me of all the time I spent visiting Aunt Ruby and Ari (technically not related to me, but who's counting?) and their kids when I was in Israel after high-school, maybe it's the farmer I always thought was hiding inside me, but Gosh: cow poop has never smelled so sweet.

Day 14 (two weeks)

First and foremost, Señor Pee-Pee has (thus far) been contained. Oh yeah. Baby Spiderman's nicknames are well-nigh endless. Last night marked our first foray into the new world of Israeli diapers. (And 95% of what I know about diapers was formulated very well by my oldest brother, hereafter known as Mooshub. I called him to complain about diapers claiming to be more than they are and he said, "Sure, the diaper can hold 14 pounds of baby...assuming the baby doesn't pish.") We bought Israeli size 4 diapers (8-14kg, go figure), slapped the Urinator into one, and prayed. He woke up with a soaked diaper and dry PJ's (and bed). Yay!

It was another calm day here on the kibbutz; I think I'm ready to get into a routine: I found myself --gasp--BORED at one point today. It was lovely. Still, boredom is not exactly an experience I'm looking to prolong. I even went so far as to gather everything together in preparation to hem 4 pairs of Husbinator's pants. Talk about settling in, eh?

Wednesdays on the kibbutz is a produce giveaway: they put lots of boxes of produce on the loading dock outside the dining hall, and people just take what they want for the week. I'm looking forward to salad with lettuce, instead of just cucumbers and tomatoes. I also have the largest head of cauliflower I have ever seen soaking in a bowl in my shower. Mmmmm... mashed cauliflower. Soon with less bug-matter!

Also tonight was the kibbutz's annual "shuk tzeddakah." It's a combination flea-market/carnival, with all proceeds going to charity. We went for about 20 minutes. It was a great atmosphere, and I'm glad we went. Still, it would have been much more fun if we actually knew the people around us. We're working on it! (One of the booths was "Guess Who's in the Picture." I thought it would be lesser-known celbrities, but it turned out they were posters of old kibbutz photos. Tons of fun for not us. All-in-all, it made me want to get to know people. Success!

Day 13 (observation)

My apartment is tile and white and tan. Like an olive tree, it is how I see Israel in my mind's eye: bright and pale, clean and dusty.

Day 12 (breathing)

Oh, Monday. The day upon which, according to Brett, the kibbutz serves breakfast. The look I gave him seems to have conveyed, "Eh... The kibbutz serves breakfast every day except Shabbat?" pretty well, because he immediately clarified with, "Fried eggs." Fried eggs, my friends, turns out to be British for scrambled eggs. And the kibbutz kitchen makes some darned good scrambled eggs. I learned today that the kibbutz also makes absolutely delicious French Toast. I am hoping that this is a weekly occurrence that I happened to miss last week, and not a one-time special that I will never see again.

After I procured breakfast, but before I ate it, I met with Ari, who manages investments for the kibbutz. Currently, they're investing in PV. Unfortunately for me, the system has already been pretty thoroughly specced out, but if he thinks of something I can do, he'll let me know. Meanwhile, he'll pass my contact info along to the head electrician on the kibbutz, and we'll see if the kibbutz can put me to work as an electrical engineer. (This would be instead of working as, say, a pre-school teacher or field hand. Heck, I can't work as a field-hand: the fields are more than a 5-minute walk from the daycare building, to which I must retire to nurse my tender offspring. Singular for offspring, anyone?)

After lunch, I took it easy. It made a very nice change, I must say.

As we had been warned multiple times, the kibbutz had an earthquake drill today at 5pm. As a reward for showing up to our assigned meeting point, we each got a krembo. It was, shockingly, my first krembo. Oh, the airy, artificial goodness!

Day 11 (one span)

We drove home masterfully from Yerushalayim today. By that I mean that not only did we drive in (the very beginnings of) rush-hour traffic, we also did not get lost. Thank you, thank you. We also successfully navigated our first "real" checkpoint: granted, the guy took 1 1/2 looks at us and asked if we preferred English or Hebrew, but we did have all of our paperwork accessible, and he wished us mazal tov on our aliyah.

I know I said this on our way to Yerushalayim, but the West Bank is absolutely gorgeous. Breathtakingly so.

What else, what else... BSM threw up twice in the car. At first I thought it was congestion, but on further consideration I'm wondering if he was motion sick. He certainly has the genes for that.

Before we left, Auntie Em plied us with all sorts of edibles, as is her custom. Yum and thank you!

Super-productive day yet again: swept every single room in the apartment, picked up laundry (if we stay on the kibbutz it will be for more reasons than just the washing and folding of our laundry--just: ha!), took ulpan placement exams, learned that banks in Israel observe "Shabbos Sheni Shel Golyos" (as one of my teachers affectionately calls The L-rd's Day), fixed my Google Voice number so it forwards to my Israeli cell phone, and read up on PV system design (a.k.a. spec-ing out solar panels for your Project of Choice).

Ulpan placement exam went smoothly: I placed out of ulpan without a fuss. The teacher suggest that I (a) find a professional ulpan or (b) work in my field while I'm on the kibbutz. Either one sounds good to me: I need to leave a note for myself to call the Ministry of Absorption and ask if there's an engineering ulpan going on. Tomorrow, I am scheduled to meet with the Member of the Kibbutz who's in charge of buying a solar panel system for their barns, so hopefully that will turn into something more.

Today's real highlight, though, was getting BSM to laugh hysterically. The boy: sitting on a table in front of me. (Yes, I was holding him so he wouldn't fall.) The object: a rattle on the table next to him. The game: snatch the rattle and move it to BSM's other side. The joy: BSM laughed and laughed and laughed each time I moved the rattle. I mean, really laughed. Leaning backward, he was laughing so hard. (Again, I was holding him: worry not.) Oy, it's fun to make babies laugh.

Day 10 (Shabbat II)

Went to Kabblat Shabbat with BSM (Baby Spiderman) again. I could get used to this.

Some of the Husbinator's favorite cousins came for lunch, and I really enjoyed meeting them.

Bleh bleh bleh. You know, stuff! (No, nothing's wrong, I just don't have anything to say.)

For some reason, I feel compelled to make a Journal Entry Every Day, and Those Who Read get to Reap the Rewards (which include Extra Capital Letters at No Extra Cost).

Ummmmmmm...

OK, I do really want to say one thing:

Husbinator's Aunt, hereinafter known as Auntie Em (married to Uncle En, because why not?), has a towel on the side of her fridge. I assumed that she had a magnetic hood upon which hung the aforementioned towel. But lo! When I picked up the towel to dry my hands, I didn't see how to put it back on the fridge. Until... Until that is... That I saw that there was a magnet sewn into the towel! It's a magnetic towel! How brilliant is that? I shall not tell you the number of ways in which that is brilliant: you can figure that out on your own time.

In other exciting news, our bank just texted us that our debit cards are ready at Branch 717. I looked it up on the interweb, and branch 717 is indeed the branch where we went to open the account, at the city closest to the kibbutz. So we'll pick those up right before we return the car. Huzzah!

Day 9 (Yerushalayim, continued)

We went to the Old City and Ben Yehudah/Machane Yehuda today. While in the Old City, we saw a little girl pushing a stroller with, presumably, her younger sister in it. The girl doing the pushing was sucking on a pacifier. On a slightly different maternal/childish note was the girl at the Kotel who was wearing a baby sling with her teddy inside Unbelievably cute. All in all, it was a very long day, but I'm glad we did it. We must get Baby Spidey to bed at a reasonable hour tomorrow.

Day 8 (Yerushalayim)

It took some patience, but we rented a car and drove to Husbinator's aunt and uncle in Yerushalayim. The Shomron is every bit as beautiful as I remember. Lying in bed now: just one little blogpost and then I'll go to sleep! The heart is blowing that unique blend of hot and cool air, and the linens smell like Israel: it must be the detergent.

Day 7 (Hey, that makes a week!)

Well, today was another whirlwind of gaiety: I visited the daycare with Baby Spidey, sorted laundry, sewed lots and lots of laundry tags onto the clothes that are too delicate for the tagger, gave some demographich information to the lady who works in the post-office (because Brett told me she wanted to see me, and then she asked for copies of our ID papers and when we got married and stuff, so I told her. Also, she does some side-work for the Ministry of the Interior, but it still boils down to, "people on the kibbutz told me to do stuff that seemed to have to do with settling in, so I did it), went back to the daycare center to discuss logistics, missed Baby Spidey's doctor appointment (oh, the forms I had filled out so nicely!), rescheduled my ulpan placement exam, confirmed my appointment with solar panel people when my ulpan exam was supposed to have been, sorted laundry, dropped off laundry, was given a broom, bought more stuff we need, swept (I had forgotten how imperative it is to sweep every day or two in Israel, even for messy people), sewed in more laundry tags (still not enough to finish), talked to my mother (code name: Ema. Woops! Blew your cover! Sorry, Ema), got soup from the dining hall for dinner, emailed my sister (who has picked "Sister" as her super-secret code name: since I have 1 sister and 4 brothers, she doesn't have to fight anyone for it), put El Babo (2nd pseudonym for Baby Spiderman. Well, 3rd if you count Baby Spidey as separate from Baby Spidey) to bed, blogged.

You may have missed it in the above MonsterSentence TM, but I have an appointment to talk to solar panel people. We ate Friday night dinner with Roz and Ozzie, and Ozzie asked me what I did in the States. I told him I worked at a university in their solar panel lab (ack! This is for posterity! I can't! I did not work in a solar panel lab. I worked in a solar cell lab. Solar cells being the bitsies that you put in a frame to make a solar panel. Phew! That's better; we can continue now.) He responded that the kibbutz is in the process of installing solar panels, and I should talk to the people who are involved with that. How super is that? He has since set up a meeting with them for me, which is equally super.

Today's observation involves, well, you'll see in a second. As I was walking to the laundry room today, I saw a sight familiar to me from my two years in Israel post-high-school. There were two tour buses and a handful of Americans stretching their legs nearby. (Presumably the other 100 people were actually doing the activity everyone drove over to participate in.) I was there too, but I was not a tourist. I was on my way to do my laundry, because I live here.

Day 6 (so productive)

Everything is still just a whirlwind of productivity.

As promised, our contact on the kibbutz, code-name Brett, took us to two different cities today: one to set up a bank account and one to arrange for the Ministry of Absorption to put money into said bank account. Before we left, though, Brett told us that the woman who is putting laundry-labels in all of our clothes wants the rest of our stuff this morning. So there was that running around. Blah blah, bank account, blah blah siging a million papers and reading maybe half of three of those, blah blah fees for everything, blah blah figuring out what those fees are, blah blah depositing 10 shekel to make it official, and losing 3.5 of those NIS because we deposited with a teller rather than through the ATM (because we don't have our debit cards yet). Long story short, we are now the proud owners of a bank account with a balance of 6.5NIS ($1.85).

From there, Brett drove us about half an hour to the nearest Ministry of Absorption. By this time, he and the Husbinator are friends, and I'm enjoying their banter. It's nice to have a friend here, not just people who are ridiculously nice to us because that's what they do. Not many forms here, mainly lots of explaining, which is nice, but still slightly overwhelming. Brett drive to a collection of restaurants, we eat schwarma.

Then, big excitement of the day: he asks if we mind terribly if we stop at "Home Center" so he can spikes to keep the boids off his property. We do not mind. In fact, we take the opportunity to buy a wireless router. And thus, I am able to blog away to my little heart's content as Husbinator works gamely at making money.

Today's cute story is brought to you by a tiny three-wheeled golf cart. Lady is driving on said vehicle when she passes a child. Said child is perhaps four years old. "בא תקח טרמפ" she tells him, and up he climbs, and off they ride, leaving me smiling behind them. What she said translates nearly into, "Come hitch a ride," but you need to know that her word choice is used for good old-fashioned hitchhiking, which has yet to go out of style in Israel.

Day 5 (awake)

Shabbat was a nice respite, because every day is still crammed full of Things We Have to Take Care of. Our next-door neighbors, who joined this program 6 months ago (pseudonyms John, Shoshi and their baby Nosie-Boy, who is three whole days younger than my own Baby Spiderman). ANYWAY. Our neighbor Shoshie told me that things are going to stay hectic for a while. Too bad. I was hoping they'd settle down in a week or two. She also spontaneously asked me if I felt like I really made aliyah, to which I responded that I don't even realize that I'm in Israel! She said neither does she, most of the time: it feels like she's in summer-camp. never having been to sleepaway camp myself, I can't relate 100%, but I think that's a valuable insight. We do eat in a dining hall and walk around on dirt paths and have other people do our laundry.

Speaking of which, I was shown around the laundry today. Each rule by itself is simple, but taken all together it's terribly, terribly complicated. Where I come from, there are at most five categories into which one can sort laundry. (For the weirdly curious, they are: light heavy-duty, dark heavy-duty, light delicate, dark delicate, and bleach heavy-duty.) Here, there are closer to 20 categories. I cannot tell you what they are, for lo, it was all so overwhelming. Excited to have free laundry service; daunted by actually figuring how to make it work. The one thing I am absolutely sure of is that I must check that every single piece of clothing is securely labeled before throwing it in. Luckily, we can also throw things in labeled mesh bags, so I don't need to get every single sock labeled. Again, for the morbidly curious, our label is the color blue and the number 323. They will iron-on patches for us, but only on clothes that can withstand the 210oC patch-putter-onner AND don't get ironed. Yes, the laundry will iron our hanging shirts. I know, I know, this is all so fascinating. But being my journal, I feel free to record the minutiae which rattle about my brain.

We also got our official lease contract today. We'll decipher it over the next few days and then sign and set up payment. Speaking of forms, I filled out my first Hebrew forms today: new-patient forms at the kibbutz's medical clinic. Because I was taken there and told to do so, that's why. I was also told to bring my baby around. For a checkup? Because they just love making funny faces at the baby? I did not ask. I shall just do. I'll deal with it as it comes.

That's pretty much it, other than I got to see people I love for a couple minutes tonight, but I don't feel like fake-explaining who they are and making up names for them just now. Made me really happy to see them, though.

More tomorrow!

Day 4 (Shabbos)

I went to Kabbalat Shabbat for the first time in a very long time. It was nice, but it would have been nicer if everything weren’t still so numb. It’s not that I’m numb, you see, it’s that everything around me is numb. I’ve been waiting nine years to move to Israel, and now I’ve finally done it. Why don’t I feel more excited? More anything? There was a moment when I first saw Israel from the plane, and I remember it felt sweet, and I smiled and waved and kept saying ,”Hi,” but I haven’t felt anything regarding Israel since. I guess I’m still trying to keep myself from realizing that I’m absolutely terrified.

In other news, we met our adoptive family over Shabbos. I shall refer to them on this blog as Roz and Ozzie. They suggested very strongly that I attend the ulpan on the kibbutz: even if it is below my level, they say, I will gain immensely from the social aspect of being fully integratig in the program. I’m sure my parents will smile when they hear that: it’s essentially what they’ve been telling me since middle school.

Day 3 (Erev Shabbat)

Now's a good time for a shout-out to the program that we're on. It's called "Bayit Rishon B'Moledet" which literally translates to "First Home in the Homeland." They call themselves a 'soft landing' and that is *exactly* what they provide. We got our (government-issued) free ride from the airport to our kibbutz, where we were met by two members of the absorption committee. They had our apartment set up for us, down to made beds, and they helped us bring our stuff upstairs, then led us to lunch. There is lots and lots of (figurative) hand-holding, and it's exactly what I want.

Today I was taken to the on-site clinic, for reasons not clearly explained to me. Turns out I was getting us in their system and making an appointment for Baby Spiderman's well-visit! And there I just assumed it would be three months before we had medical care, because seriously, there is a limit to how much I can figure out at a time.

Early next week someone from the kibbutz will drive us to town to set up a bank account, which apparently takes all day. Stuff like that. I mean, the first day we were here, we stopped by the kibbutz's IT guy and he gave us a router, so we had internet immediately.

Today, our absorption contact person (must think of nickname for her soon) brought us a tablecloth for Shabbat--and a cheesecake.

OK, must sign off and do what must be done an hour before Shabbos.

Day 2 (should have stuck to a montage)

Note: the advice to beat jet-lag by staying up until bedtime in your local time zone seems to be based on the assumption that the traveller in question has had a reasonable amount of sleep the night or two before arrival. I accidentally fell asleep at 4:30pm yesterday and that was perfect. Granted, I woke up at 6:30am today, but that’s less due to jet lag and more because I hadn’t changed my watch yet and it’s really hard to do time conversions in my head when I’m still tired.

Today I found my way to the dining hall and made it home successfully! Granted, I didn’t find the store I was looking for on my way back, but I will take what I can get.

We are almost completely unpacked, and that goes a long way toward making me feel settled, and thus calmer.

Cymbaline, if you’re looking for good writing, you will just have to wait until I’m less tired. Please don’t pass this along to anyone else yet: I’d hate to lose ‘em before anything of interest happens. Or, more precisely, before I get to show off my mad writing skills. G’night.

Day 1 (Montage)

• Packing. That's all Day 0 and behind, so no need to dwell on it anymore.
• Driving to the airport.
• First saying goodbye to my mother.
• Saying goodbye to my father.
• So much luggage. So, so much luggage. Three pieces (+carry-on, +personal item) per person sounds not at all excessive for moving halfway across the world. Add a stroller, a carseat, winter coats, and some plane food, and it still sounds reasonable--perhaps on the skimpy side, even. Get to the airport, and suddenly it seems not skimpy at all. Get to security, and the non-checked items alone seem rather a lot. Get to the gate and begin to deeply wish we had brought less stuff. Walk on the plane and meet Israeli flight attendants and have a panic attack.
• Say the right words to make the head flight attendant stop haranguing us.
• Take a Buspar.
•  Realize that there is, in fact, less legroom on this trans-Atlantic flight than we've ever had on a domestic flight.
• Be grateful that El-Al doesn't care even a little bit if your stuff is under the seat in front of you or under your feet, instead.
• Fly.
• Get compliments on well-behaved baby. 
• Hold baby while standing up for rest of flight, because even without hubris, sometimes he just needs to cry if I sit down, or G-d forbid, put him in his car seat.
• Make friends with all of the passengers.
• Be met with joyful disbelief every time we tell an Israeli that we are making aliyah. Now. This flight.
• Meet an amazing woman who offers to hold the baby and then explains that she has 7 grandchildren and rocks him to sleep. All the way to sleep. Thank you, young-looking savta! Thank you!
• Enjoy the 45 minute nap the baby takes and nearly fall asleep just as he wakes up.
• Discover that the baby absolutely loves children.
• Keep baby from shrieking with laughter at 6 year old girl a few seats over.
• Land.
• Be grateful we get to disembark last.
• Discover that this of all flights empties terrifyingly quickly and the flight attendants are back, informing us in no uncertain terms that this plane needs to be cleaned and turned around, get off get off get off how can we help get off tell us how to help seriously get off the plane get off get off get off.
• Get off the plane.
• Thank everyone profusely for their help and apologize. Be told, "Why should you feel bad? Mazal tov, and best of luck!" It isn't until hours later that I begin to try to make sense of this. It has to do with being Israeli, I think.
• Get paperwork done. No, getting my ID card is not emotional. It's good, because that's one more bit of paperwork that's done with, but that's it.
• Get luggage.
• Discover how mortified I really am at the amount of stuff we brought. Joke that we need a bus, not a taxi. Take a 15-seater bus to our new home. There is one other passenger. And all of our stuff.
• Arrive at the kibbutz, bring stuff into apartment. Happily discover that the two-room nothing of an apartment we were told to expect has, in fact, three not-tiny rooms and lots more closets/cabinets than we expected.
• Eat lunch, unpack a little, bathe baby, shower, take an hour-nap that becomes a four-hour nap.
• Unpack a little more, eat dinner that husband kindly brought back from dining hall, blog, go back to sleep.