Teeny Weeny Rays of Light

To my absolute astonishment, and that of my sister who has helped me every step of the way - I received my Israeli Driver's License in less than four hours.  It did entail driving from the Ministry of Transport to a mall where I had to have my eyes tested, then to another mall for a photograph, then back to the Ministry of Transport, but hey, what is that compared to weeks of back and forth.  A miracle!!!!!

Then I did hear from the Ministry of Defense and a social worker came to see me.  A week later a Welfare worker came.  So slowly the wheels seem to be moving. For all of these things, O Lord, I am grateful.

This week I went on a tour with my geriatric playmates. We went up north, to Carmel.  The roads in Israel put America to shame - at least the Bay Area.  Of course they are crowded, but potholes don's seem to exist. For me many areas of the country are barely recogniseable because of all the construction.  I suppose the millions of people have to live somewhere - so high apartment buildings abound.  But still, it is beautiful, the hills are green, the wild flowers are beginning to appear. However, like California, not green enough.  It is very warm and very dry.  Again I think of my strange fate - South Africa often had droughts, Israel, California. - droughts and authoritarian governments - interesting combination - something to ponder for those of a philosophical bent.   I digress, besides visiting a moshav where native plants are rehabilitated, we went to the Druze 'village' (no longer a village - a crowded town, of Daliat Al Karmel and to a fascinating talk and visit to the art gallery of Sam Halabi.  If you are interested - google his name.

And right now it is time for me to go to the park to photograph white roses.  I am in a photography group and I am learning things about phone cameras I didn't know existed.  I may put up some photos.

PTSD

 I have self diagnosed.  I came up with PTSD as the acronym, but it stands for 

Present Traumatic Stress Disorder

and in my case it relates to the filling in of forms and questionnaires, whether online or in writing. Whether in English or in Hebrew.

I have simply HAD ENOUGH, and am on a now four day break from filling in or answering anything. I have been doing this since my decision to move from America back to Israel.  It culminated lasted Thursday when what was supposed to be an extremely easy transition from a paid for SIM card to a SIM of a phone company.  Everyone I spoke to said I could keep my present phone number - in fact there is even a law that insures this.

4 hours later - after lengthy talks with Violet, Maytal ,Yoav, and other names I cannot nor do I want to remember, I no longer had my old number.  "It is dead" said Violet, "a dead body cannot be moved to another place."  The new number given was tested (by me) and belonged to another person - then my new number didn't appear on anyone's screen, on and on - you get the picture.

Forms filled in, scanned, along with National Insurance Forms, application for Driver's License forms suddenly had me in tears, wailing, pulling out my hair, gnashing my teeth.

NO MORE FORMS I am sick, I am suffering. PTSD.  Finished. Don't ask me my name, my DOB done in a different way in Israel with the date first then the month, and this misunderstanding leading to more filling in, errors, etc. etc.

So I am taking a leave from anything to do with anything bureaucratic even if it means I will be thrown out of the country.  Tonight there is yet another demonstration in Tel Aviv - I will watch it on TV and pray for sanity, both mine, and that of the country, and the universe.

Happy New Year

 2023. -  hopefully this incoming year will bring with it a respite from the non-stop tumult of the past few years! Just a tiny ray of hope would be welcome. From my perspective, now living in a different country - it looks like there may just be a small crack of light coming in from the USA!

On a personal level, I am definitely on the path to re-nesting.  My home is quite lovely, and in the strange way of things, it feels comfortable, and quite sufficient for my needs. The strange way is how remembered things from childhood, my home, my school, the local swimming pool, were all loomed very large - then when I returned years later, they had somehow shrunk.

I am also reminded how when  I visited Israel and stayed a while, the teeny country  became bigger each day.  Drives took longer, places felt distant.  And so it has been with my new home - my postage stamp size of a garden is now quite big - enough to do landscaping.  My bedroom, which a dear friend in the USA euphemistically described as 'cosy,' is in fact, cosy and comfortable.

I have to keep a calendar for all the events and activities  happening in this geriatric summer camp.  I cannot do everything I would like. In fact, I have to continue this entry later as I am off to a lecture.

Well,  back from an interesting, informative and deeply depressing lecture entitled "Promises Promises, The Roots of the Problems in the Middle East," It was given by a resident here who is Israeli born, fluent in Hebrew, Arabic, English, and probably some other languages. He was in the army and in the Mosad. An interesting and knowledgable man with a fascinating background. Sadly - he sees absolutely no solution to the present problems. That was not a good way to begin the new year, so I will have a drink and listen to music, and toast all of you, anyway!

Let us hope .......

The last few months in pictures

 From this

to this

to this 

and, at last 

The Saga Continues

Today two men are in my house putting up an awning for the balcony.  It was supposed to have been done three weeks ago, but no matter - it is now being done.  The men are from Colombia so I have a chance to speak Spanish, to our mutual surprise.  A man from Russia put together my sideboard from Ikea, an Ethiopian worked on my kitchen cupboard.   A very religious young man, side curls and all, came into my house to put together bedroom closets.  Pleasantly surprised that: 

a) he was working and not in a yeshiva

b) he worked in a woman's house 

The Yemenite man who fixed my shutters this morning explained that they were a mess because of the stray cats who claw their way into the homes.  This is the fault, he added, of the Russian and Ukrainian women workers who feed the cats against the rules.

And just to add that everyone of these workmen who entered my house kissed the mezuzah on the door as they entered.  They touch it with their right hand and bring it to their lips.

Yesterday I went for a neighbour's birthday lunch with three other women.  As we arrived the first was sitting outside drinking wine.  We joined her.  The 4th, who had reserved a table for us at 1, arrived late. She saw us sitting at the table and immediately shouted - "why here? I booked a table for inside. I hate these outside tables, and why are you already having a drink?" The drinker explained she had arrived early and it is very pleasant outside.  

"I hate these tables," said the one who had made the reservation. "Lets take the tables from the inside to the outside."

The waitress explained this cannot be done.  Eventually, after arguments and negotiations we remained outside and told the waitress to bring three more glasses of wine, quickly.

We began to order - is it a business lunch? - yes.

Can't we get an added discount for seniors? - no.

That's not OK, we eat here often - sorry, the waitress doesn't make up the rules

Bring the wine, why is it not here yet?

Wine was served.

Lunch was eaten.

Along came the bill, paid differently in Israel than in America.  The waiter brings the bill and the customer tells them to add a certain percentage for the tip.  A tip is added in this manner, or one can pay and leave cash on the table.

Three of us paid, treating the birthday woman after many protests  Then the bill was scrutinized, the waitress asked to the table along with the supervisor. Was the tip before or after the VAT. The supervisor explained that the cash machine automatically adds the VAT. He was then asked to divide the amount by three, while he stood at the table, then to add the percentage.  After he had done the math and explained the process numerous times, it appears the reservationist was satisfied.

So the above is a snapshot of life in the holy land ......... and still I wait for appointments, emails (programs have apparently stopped working in many offices). I could not sign on a medical insurance form so the person sending it asked if they could sign for me!

OK - yes, this is the way.

Slogging

 I am trying to find the most appropriate word, or wording. for my present trials and tribulations.  Slogging through mud, treading water, sucked into quicksand, treading water.  I think by this time even Kafka-esq no longer works. 

Suffice to say I am doing my best to stay afloat and not sink into a morass of despair.

As I have written before - this ministry, that ministry. Attempting to sign in online, making phone calls, going to branches of banks that no longer exist. And  this in an all pervasive atmosphere of increasing violence and fear - fear of what the incoming government may do.  Fear that rights of LGBTQ people will be taken away, rights of women, rights of Palestinians, rights of ordinary people.  

In the midst of all this, I just want my furniture, I want to open a bank account, I want to find a way to access my accounts in the States .  Sounds so simple - it is not.

And yes, I chose this I have to see it all through. There has to be light at the end of the tunnel. Come to think of it, this has been going on for 9 months - but I do not feel warm and comforted like a foetus must feel. I am not being nourished in the womb. But I suppose that I have to cling to the hope that things will work out eventually, and the birth process will take place in a timely fashion.

Here's hoping!

De-nested

 I don't think De-nested is a legitimate word, but it should be.  I can say with certainty that I have been de-nested. Besides the fact that my name is Nesta, my astrological sign is Cancer (right on the cusp of Leo) - but let us say it is Cancer.t  Cancers love their nests.  This is what makes them feel secure in this world.  Since I made the decision to uproot and move in March of this year, I have been systematically de-nested.  I made the decision, no one forced me.  No one is 'to blame.'  I made this decision, I am OK with it, but still - I have to go through this process.  

For months now I have packed and. unpacked, shedded possessions, shredded, recycled, donated. In July a lift was sent to Israel, and since then I have lived with a minimum of things, as I have written about.  Since arriving in Israel I have lived out of two suitcases.  Unsettling - along with the endless bureaucratic hassles. I had to order furniture - and wait for it.  My bed arrived 12 days early.  I now had everything I needed for my move - a bed, a fridge, a soda stream.  So I moved two nights ago - borrowed sheets, a pillow, a towel and ....... slept in my new bed, in my new home!!!!!!!!  And, I. My lift arrived yesterday slept like a log in the bed it had taken me 15 minutes to buy!!!!!!!!  

My neighbour told that before I go to sleep I must concentrate on each corner of the room and make a wish.  I was so exhausted I forgot .... until, just before I dozed off I remembered, and did what she had told me to.   She came the next morning to check whether I had done it, thank goodness I could say yes.

Everyone here has been so very welcoming - and I have help with everything.  The thing that has stumped me is my brand new smart TV - way smarter than I ever was or will be.  I have had two nights of intensive training, tonight will be the test - have I absorbed the instructions, along with the arrival of people to install the wi fi, the housekeeping, the social worker, the nurse, the neighbours, the gardeners, the cooks. Yesterday a Russian/Ukrainian team of scary looking muscular men raced in and out of my little home carrying the boxes that had been shipped almost four months before. They gave me a piece of paper with the numbers of the boxes and scurried back and forth shouting the numbers in accented hebrew and I had to tick off each box.  They slit the boxes open and drove off leaving me and brother-in-law in a state of shock.

And so the process of renesting has begun.