Three Months

 I have now been in this geriatric summer camp for three months.  It seems impossible. I feel quite settled and comfortable, and even the bureaucratic horrors are somewhat residing.  My new concern is why it feels OK, and is a dark cloud of reality awaiting, about to take over and send me onto my sofa, where I may remain for months.

I am, of course, still in a strange reverse culture shock.  Reverse, that is, from the original culture shock I had when I went to America - a shock that accompanied most of my time there.  I was so very overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices - in everything, that I became a person who just couldn't decide - on the bread I wanted, on the type of milk, on the salt, on the size of everything and anything - large, medium, small. On what to order in restaurants, on what to order in a bar, on anything. I turned into a gibbering idiot. I remember my unbridled joy when I was in Namibia, and ordered a toasted cheese, and that is what I got - a toasted cheese of a size that I could bite into without breaking my jaw. Two slices of white bread, toasted with a thin slice of cheese.  And now here I am in Israel, once again at a loss, because everything here has changed. And on top of it I can break open packets in the supermarket and take out just one or two items - e.g. 2 carrots, 4 tomatoes, one bottle of soda from a pack. Now the thing here, apparently, is to become a member - of a supermarket, a pharmacy, a cheese shop, a coffee shop, a clothing store, a book shop - but then everytime I buy something I have to give them my ID number or my phone number, neither of which I remember, and have to look them up.You give a tip before you pay - you add it on to the bill. Taxis you don't tip, or do you? on and on.

At last I have begun to see friends, as I am not spending every moment staring into my computer screen trying to fill in forms. I have even begun to learn to use my smart TV - don't get too excited - I still don't know how to record programs, but at least I can turn the TV on and find whatever it is I want to watch. Of course there is the small problem of subtitles - and when the commentators on the Hebrew news all begin shouting at each other and no one listens to anyone, I turn it off.  Mostly that is good because the news is so depressing that it is better not to listen.  I do receive Haaretz newspaper online - so I am definitely not in the dark, or should I say - all is in the dark.  This dreadful dark cloud that has overtaken so many countries - the end of democracy?  So I once again focus on the lovely things, the spring flowers that have begun to carpet the country. The interesting art exhibitions.  Bird watching, the joy of having my great nieces and nephew so nearby.  For all of these things I am grateful.   

And of course, for the fact that I can easily speak to friends all over the world.  

Last Night's Moon

 

Some photos

Photos from the park - (the grounds where I live) and a work in progress - I took the photo on the Bay Trail 
 

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