Classic Israeli Moment (CIM) #2

While walking home from a morning session of Mommy & Me and impromptu play at the park in Vardiya (A dad was overlooking three of his kids and encouraged his son to play soccer with Declan), an elderly gentleman on a motorized wheelchair approaches us on the sidewalk. Daniel and I told Declan to make way for him to pass, but he stopped to make conversation.

Gentleman: How many children do you have?
Daniel: One [points to Declan]. Two [points to Petra].
Gentleman: Just two children?
Daniel: For now.
[I break into a cold sweat.]

Other moms I was hanging out with at the park between Shimshon and Yocheved Street assured me that I will once again get "baby fever" when Petra turns two. I decided not to share the fact that I have never ever felt baby fever.

The average number of children per family in a typical Israeli family used to be three. Now it is four.

Declan said "good bye" and "see you later" to the elderly gentleman in Hebrew, which made the man chuckle. I especially enjoy making old people happy, especially the ones in Taiwan and Israel. Their generation has ben through so much, it's pretty ridiculous. Whenever I see an elderly person in Taiwan or here clearly enjoying life, it always makes me pause to reflect on the resilience of the human spirit. Maybe I'm being too romantic to apply that in general to old people from countries with backgrounds of widespread war, but it's certainly true for both sets of my grandparents.

Following that, we continued walking down the sidewalk, stopping every now and then to share between the three of us one large watermelon popsicle. And we saw the same man again, this time cruising slowly down the middle of the road. Cars started building up behind him. He continued to "speed" along at a leisurely pace with the road open before him as more and more cars lagged in retinue. Israeli drivers are aggressive as a norm, but nobody honked.

Then, the elderly gentleman stopped in the middle of the road to make conversation with someone else by the sidewalk.

But, as we walked past and away from that particular street in that neighborhood, I still didn't hear anyone honk. Israelis can be pushy and aggressive, but they sure enjoy their children and respect their elders.

tel aviv marathon 2013

It was super hot due to the sharav (or maybe chamsin, as it was also very dusty) aka heat current blown north from Africa, and a good number of people running the half-marathon got heatstroke/dehydration. One person died, inexplicably, despite having thoroughly trained for the race as well as being in general a very fit IDF officer. Several people are still in the hospital under medically-induced comas.

I ran the 4.2K course, which was just 10% of an actual marathon. A lot of people kept saying how amazing I was to be running after giving birth exactly two months ago. I'm glad I was able to do it, but I still don't see what's so amazing about that. It's only 2.6 miles and I basically jogged the whole way on a very flat course.

Many thanks to my sister-in-law for motivating me to run a few times up and down the hills of Haifa beforehand.

I ran it for the race atmosphere, in one of Israel's biggest running events.

feeding my bibliophilia

I must say, the U.S. public library system as I have experienced it from coast-to-coast is a wonderful establishment for which I cannot show enough appreciation. Growing up in Salem, Oregon -- a state capital that is surprisingly rural in nature in the eyes of a city kid from Taiwan -- the Salem Public Library was my home away from my two other homes (school and that other place my parents bought). My English improved as a result of the literally 50 or so books I would check out every week from the library during my first year as an immigrant; I would take them home, read them out loud to improve my pronunciation, and look up then memorize new English words. No way could I have been able to afford buying so many books in order to accrue the same amount of knowledge and other benefits as I did from the library. I also read all seven biographies on Joan of Arc that the library carried during my obsession with her, then with Robert Kennedy, and so on.

The Ann Arbor, Pittsburgh, and Seattle public libraries all rocked as well.

Israel's, not so much.

Okay, to be fair, I'm sure Haifa has great public libraries for Hebrew readers. But I have yet to find a sustainable and truly satisfying source to feed my reading habit. There's a library on Pevsner Street that I've heard about, but how to get there remains elusive (which bus stop? What number?) and I'm still cherishing its potential and not wanting to have my hopes dashed.

Meanwhile, book shopping at Steinmatsky (Israel's largest bookstore chain) is pricey, with most English books marked up to twice their US retail price. But I think I'm starting to hit a suitable arrangement, thanks to the advice of other English readers here to get books from the Book Depository and my husband's/his parents' very kind gift of a Kindle*.

So, today, I finally registered and synced up the Kindle and I see that Kindle offers a lot of free books daily. While these aren't books I normally go for, I am not as big a book snob as I once were. Living away from public libraries have humbled me in this respect. And these free books look interesting...of better quality than the free books that Nook routinely offers.

And I also ordered a book to be shipped from the Book Depository that couldn't be found on Kindle or Nook but I must have for this English book club I'm in. This UK company has free shipping *and* sells books at a discount pretty regularly. It was much cheaper than buying from Steinmatsky, so there's my new source for book purchases, should I desire something beyond what I can get free via the Kindle or Nook or able to check out via OverDrive at the Pittsburgh Public Library.

That's a lot of resources... (as I count them out now, four!) I think I am set for another year (or two) of living without a good public library nearby.

* It amuses me to recall that my brother had given me my first eReader, the Nook, shortly after Declan was born. And now that my second eReader, the Kindle, was gifted to me shortly after Petra's birth, I see the secret to obtaining another eReader someday**.

**So kidding. Having a third child just so I could get a new eReader is all kinds of lunacy.

CIM #1

A Classic Israeli Moment:

When a mother brings her piano-recorder to the park, and plays a simple tune for her crawling child. Like a pied piper, her music attracts the attention of other children in the park, and everyone--child and parent alike--wanders over to stand and gawk at her. Soon, a circle of moms/nannies and children rings the woman, and song requests are shouted at the woman. She complies, as the older caretakers start clapping their hands in rhythm and interrupt occasionally to argue over the lyrics. Since Pesach is coming soon, everyone sings traditional/common songs about Pesach.

Declan takes me by the hand, tells me to sit so he can crawl into my lap (alas, I can only squat as I was cradling his little sister) and joins everyone else around the circle of music appreciators.

sigh

I don't know what I'm doing with my life.

On one hand, I do know. It's simple. Take care of the kids. Take care of the home.

And yet.

I really don't know.

The times I'm happy are the brief flashes when I get to talk about silly, non-kid-related, shallow, flighty topics like the Oscars or unrealistically handsome Korean actors with Jess and Andrea. I think I really miss my close friends. That's one thing.

The other thing is that I...[baby crying. finish this thought later]

this lenten season

The pastor of my local church in Pittsburgh posted this on Facebook yesterday: "A 'positive added spin' on lent? Many Christians practice lent (started yesterday) as a way to identify with and focus on the suffering of Jesus for us. Many of us decide to give up something for lent. This is good but perhaps we can take a page from the reason why Christian fast and apply it here? We don't fast for the sake of fasting, and we don't fast to show how devoted we are to God. We fast so we can use that time to focus on God and drawing close to Him. In fasting, there is giving up of something (eating), and also taking up of something (seeking God). For lent this year, maybe we can give up something, but also take up something like spending more time with God weekly, or showing concrete actions of love to someone once a day..."

It really got me thinking. I've never really done the resolution-y giving up something for the Lenten season in the past before. Some of the things people give up just sound like self-help opportunities, and the whole culture of it can get pretty ridiculous. So I'd reactionarily abstained from participating. 

But perhaps there is something to be said about marking a season, observing a period of time, preparing my own heart for the advent of Easter, to fully appreciate what that means. Historically, giving up something for Lent is for the sake of anticipating fulfillment with the Resurrection of the Messiah. Physically, that's not fully possible if one has not acutely felt deprivation in some way.

Given my former pastor's insight on the matter, I think I will give up something and take up something else this Lenten season. I will (attempt to) give up my attitude of/tendency towards entitlement. Towards complaining and focusing on what's lacking in my life, towards feeling wronged when I have to work a little harder than what I perceive my husband's doing, towards feeling jealous and discontented when I see other friends thriving in their PhD programs/careers or other moms getting a break by having family help or traveling home. I will take up praying more in trusting God that He will provide, in picking up and reading the Bible on a more frequent basis. This, all, in preparation for more fully appreciating Easter, on that day.

jumbled thoughts

My cousin May took her two young children back to Taiwan for Chinese new year celebrations this year. Looking at her pictures of the Taiwanese background made me miss home so much. Even more than Thanksgiving in the US...that's saying something. I guess, in the end, for all the uncomfortable awkwardness of my more Anglo-inclinations, Taiwan is still the closest thing to my idea of home. Having married an American whose job prospects seem to enjoy the best options in the US, I'm not sure if I'll be able to return. Our children are being raised to speak mostly English right now, and some smattering of Hebrew at the parks. (Declan, of his own volition, said, "Toda" to another boy who returned his toy dump truck at the park this morning.) The desire for my children, if I ever have any, speaking Chinese fluently, had been a main reason why for the longest time I wouldn't date anyone whose mother tongue isn't Chinese. I guess life always turns out completely differently from one's plans.

I'm a bit torn right now about whether Declan should go to gan or not. On one hand, it'd allow me to focus fully on Petra during the day so that she could enjoy some semblance of Declan's babyhood. Not to mention sanity, perhaps, for me in not dealing with two young children at once. On the other hand, am I really ready for us to be apart for that much time during the week? I took Declan and Petra to the park across the street from our apartment this morning. It was around 9am when we got there, and I had a chance to mingle with the few moms that were already there. They were super friendly and Declan played quite nicely with their boys (around the same age as him). I would miss this if he's not around; just as I'm starting to build a rapport with the moms at Hila's as well.

Well, maybe gan won't even be an option, and then that's not an issue I even need to dwell on.