A Day of Culture Shocks, oh What Fun!

Hello Readers!

Last week was an interesting and busy week! I had one day in particular where the whole day I experienced such hilarious and continuous culture shock that I felt the need to share it on the blog with you so you could all have a good laugh:

Incident #1:

The day started out normal, I was a little fatigued in the morning but continued on with my day. In the morning I was sitting in the doctors room as I often do, and the doctors were getting ready for their day, casually filling each other in on patients and discussing everyone's situation. It wasn't exactly a meeting, but the room was full. All of a sudden one of the residents starts rummaging through his locker and then in front of everyone, without warning, whips off his t-shirt and puts on his scrub shirt. I was very taken aback and had to quickly turn away from his exposed torso. No one seemed to notice but me, and he didn't look abashed in the slightest. Trying to keep my composure I asked my Israeli friends and coworkers if this was acceptable behavior in this country, and although they said not everyone would do it, they were't surprised that some would. More than their words I watched their faces and every time the shock I was waiting for didn't come. 

Incident #2: Later in the day one of the doctors started distributing a cake he had brought to work in celebration of the fact that his son who had been ill was released from the hospital (this in and of itself is different culturally as in Israel it is always expected that the person celebrating something will bring cake or food to give out, and not other people bring for him. This is counter-intuitive to me as I am accustomed to bringing the birthday boy a cake, or bringing food to the woman who just came back from maternity leave!) He began cutting huge pieces and gave me the honor of the first piece. All at once, everyone began telling him to stop serving enormous pieces. One doctor said "I'll just share with Shira" to which I happily agreed. I of course, expected her to bring another plate and fork, and take half my cake on to her plate. This was not to be! She plopped herself right beside me, grabbed a fork and dug in right with me, on my plate. As if we were sisters or bosom buddies from childhood. Of course we are neither, she is a senior doctor in my department who I've known all of three weeks. This is how it is here, everyone really does feel like family. I worked hard to hide my incredulity, and we shared our cake in 'piece'. I ate the cherry on top. :)

Incident #3: I went to an event in the afternoon at the Association for American and Canadians in Israel (AACI) and on my long bus ride there from the hospital I saw an old man on the bus pull a bag of some sort of unhealthy snack (chips or pretzels or something of the sort) and start to munch contentedly as he stared out the window. I found myself grinning at the entire situation. The picture I was seeing before me of a) an old man eating a children's snack, and b) him eating on the bus! My childhood is flooded with memories of either being told off for bringing a drink(with a lid!) on the bus or seeing the huge signs plastered on the windows of the bus with large red X's through pictures of food and drink. I smiled to myself and relished in the relaxed attitude of Israelis towards eating on the bus.

I hope you enjoyed these little episodes of culture shock, and laughed like I did. The journey to understanding different peoples and cultures may be long, but it is definitely worth it. 

היה לי יום מאוד מצחיק וזה כיף לי מאוד שאני יכולה לצחוק ולא לבכות בימים האלה. אני מרגישה שהתקדמתי בנתיב האישי של חיים ואני עוד צעד יותר קרוב. 

Translation: I had a very funny day and it's so great for me that I was able to laugh about it and not cry on these days. I feel that I have advanced on my personal path of my life and I'm one step closer.

I remain yours etc,

Shira 

Hybrid Funnies :)

Hello Readers,

This last week I returned to Jerusalem on Saturday night with my mother (she took the bus with me!) The experience was a very classic one: running like a maniac to arrive breathless and panting a second before the bus pulls out, prolonged traffic because of  car accidents made by Israelis who haven't yet mastered the skill of winter driving, and then watching our transfer bus in Jerusalem pull away in front of our very eyes by seconds. When we caught the next bus to our event (a birthday party of a dear friend) we managed to get seats just past the back door, and then watched in fascination as the bus became more and more loaded until passengers were standing just about on top of each other. As we progressed along the route, people started disembarking and we returned to a more acceptable amount of passengers again. When my mother and I alighted, I made sure as I usually do to thank the driver, raising my voice a notch so he could hear from the back door of the bus. As we started walking towards our party I pridefully inquired of my mother if she noticed how polite I was, thanking the driver. "Aren't you proud? You raised me to be so polite and American!" I boasted. My mother's response was akin to "well yes, although I don't know if I would have 'shouted' "thank you" all the way from the back. I mean, you had to shout for him to hear." I reflected for a moment and realized Mum was truly on to something. I had shouted a nicety. I was doing the polite thing, but in a somewhat less polite manner. I began to laugh, and so did my mom. "Mom, this is exactly what it means to be a hybrid! I would think to do the courteous thing, but loudly since I'm half Israeli! Yelling "Thanks!" seemed quite natural and expected for me. My mother informed me that the proper way to handle the situation is to alight from the front door of the bus and wish the driver a "good day and thank you", in a normal tone.

Being a hybrid is a balancing act of trying to take the good aspects of both cultures while simultaneously being mindful to not glean the bad from either culture. My aim is to be bubbly and mannerly, not surly and rude. I want to share a funny meme I saw and the response my friend who is a fellow hybrid had:

This whole scenario is perfectly humorous and when I messaged my friend asking what he would do in the above situation (because he is a hybrid) he responded immediately with something like: "I'd be sitting, while talking on my phone, of course." This is us. We are the hybrids and we do our best to do both our nationalities proud. The bar is set high for us as we try to bridge the gap (or perhaps with these two cultures "chasm" is more appropriate) between two very different nations. As more and more of us "mutts" interact with each culture we are hopefully able to show that the other side is not quite so bad, and people can accept this from us because it comes in a form of communication they are accustomed to. I can loudly tell Israelis about the nice Americans I know, and I can also quietly share with Americans some of the crazy things Israelis do for fun. Hopefully at the end of the day, we all feel just a little less hostile towards one another.

I remain yours etc,

Shira

P.S. Sorry there is no Hebrew in this post. I really need to get Hebrew stickers for my laptop...

New Beginnings

Hello Readers,

A lot has been happening! One week ago I moved to Jerusalem and so far all is well. Leaving Meir was both harder and easier than I had anticipated. I only cried once, at the way end. My dearest sister was with me most of the day, and her presence soothed my soul. I wouldn't have made it without her. Pangs of guilt still plague me as I think of how her sweet self moved to Kfar Saba to be with me, and after only a few short months I've abandoned her. For her part, she is taking it well and seems to be content just to throw herself into work, and she has gotten yet another job. Best of luck to the best person in the world. <3

The night before the big move, we stayed up until the wee hours of the night making a phlebotomist cake (veins, needles, test tubes--the whole thing!) and she helped me carry it to the hospital. My last day was satisfactory because for the most part it felt like every other day, and I treasured that sense of normalcy. Despite being mostly a typical day, there was still an air of festivity for me. I came in wearing makeup and as usual, this excited everyone. We shared my cake in the morning and I gave a short speech (since it was in Hebrew). I gave them my gift of a huge picture frame with photographs of me and my doctors and they gave me a set of very cozy pajamas for Jerusalem which have turned out to be one of the most thoughtful and practical gifts I've ever received.  One doctor even told me that I was the best decision that the professor had made since she joined the department, which warmed my heart. She also insisted I give my new boss her number so she could explain to them exactly what they were getting into...

 And just like that, with a final wave, I was gone

Wednesday night I was going to bus to my new apartment. I got a text from one of my new roommates warning me that there was no mattress or space in the cupboard for my stuff. Not willing to leave it up to chance as I perhaps once would have, I persistently called my new coordinators until I finally reached one of them, who upon hearing my concern about where I would be physically laying my head that night, suggested I move to a different apartment one flight up and in to a spot that had just been vacated. I would be in a room with one other girl, and not to be alarmed, but Hebrew wasn't her strong point. As it happily turned out, she is an Anglo. 

As for the hospital, I have gotten lost more times than not in my first week. I work with an excellent and very adorable department. The doctors are nearly all male however, so I am fond of taunting my father with this fact since he maintains that it is good I did national service instead of military service where I would spend all my days with boys. So ha to my father!

I continue to be a vampire in the mornings, and for the rest of the day I follow my doctors around, assisting where I can. It is so refreshing to work with new people who only know me now, and not where I used to be. This is regarding language improvement, higher understanding of the culture and its expectations, as well as just a more general sense of belonging. I think it is so important for new immigrants to change up where they work very often at first because people can get stuck in their first impressions of us, and often they are not the most flattering impressions. These judgments people make about us may even be subconscious in nature, but it can be small issues such as assuming we need help for every single task no matter how small, or not thinking to assign us duties that may seem "too hard" or "too complex" for us. I am revering in the responsibilities I now get, even if they frighten and challenge me. Life would be vexatingly boring if we went through it without being terrified every now and then. I find that moving to a new environment has given me the space to stretch into the person I am now and not the person I was a year ago. This is invaluable in my opinion.

A short hilarious episode: Yesterday I was at our ward meeting and one resident was presenting a case we had had this past week. After she finished, the professor (he's the person in charge of the ward) turned to me and congenially asked me if I had gotten a chance to see the patient. I timorously replied "oh yes, he has great veins." The whole room erupted in laughter and the proffesor smilingly said "everyone from their perspective!"  

זה כל כך חשוב להתחיל דברים חדשים אפילו כשאין לנו כוח. חייבים לעשות ולנסות דברים חדשים כל הזמן והדבר הזה עוזר לנו להיות הבני אדם 

(טובים שנוכל להיות. בעצם זה החיים שלנו (לא תותים

Translation: It is so important to start new things even when we have no energy. We have to do and try new things all the time, and this helps us to be the best humans we can. This is basically life (not strawberries!)


I remain yours etc,
Shira

A Typical Afternoon in an Israeli Cafe--A Thoroughly Atypical Experience!

Hello Readers!

Happy Friday to you all. Brr, it's cold up here!
This week I would like to share with you a funny story that happened at a cafe this week:

Last month for my English birthday I received from the hospital a gift card to a cafe for a cup of coffee and a pastry. This past week was my Hebrew birthday, so I decided to go to the cafe with a friend of mine in celebration so I could use my gift card. We went right after work at about 4:00 pm. From the moment we entered, the whole setting was nothing but Israeli. It was somewhat bustling and as we neared the till to place our order a short blonde woman in a training-suit-type outfit started barking orders at the baristas. We noticed then that there was actually some construction going on in the cafe. Laborers were changing the wall paper and putting up framed photographs of various poses of coffee. All this during business hours!

After placing our order, we moved to sit down. Of course, the table had a whole tray of sugars and lids because there were photos being put up in the corner where the tray usually sat. As we waited for our coffees, we watched in fascination as the little blonde woman fluttered about yelling at the laborers about how to center the photographs and pestering the baristas to make the coffees faster. About five minutes later it dawned on me that this woman, who seemed to me to belong at the gym, must actually be either the manager or owner! I continued to survey her, mesmerized as I saw her cleaning up trash while asking the laborer she had just told off "do you have something to drink? Is this cola yours? Good!"

Eventually I realized I would have to physically approach the counter if I wanted our cappuccinos to arrive this century so I got up to go over and stand by the counter--my physical presence reminding the overworked baristas that I had ordered. Some minutes later, our cappuccinos finally in hand, my friend and I settled comfortably into our seats to try and have a relaxing discussion, despite the hullabaloo going on all around us. Suddenly, I noticed one photograph that had just been hung up (not with a nail, but rather with sticky tack on the back) seemed wrong. I stared for a long while and then concluded that it was upside down! I take a fair amount of photographs of coffee so I was fairly confidant of my assessment. 

I debated with myself if I should do the "Israeli" thing and tell them, or just keep this small piece of knowledge to myself. I gave in with a "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" and stopped the next barista passing by. "Excuse me, but that picture is upside down." I don't know what I was anticipating her reaction to be--perhaps denial? or a polite "I'll check into it," or any number of ordinary responses. What I definitely did not expect was her to cock her head, actually dip her skull a full ninety degrees to the side and mutter "Hmmm..." Then she frantically asked the laborer if he could still change the orientation of the photograph or was the tack already dry. I hadn't noticed, but this had become the central happening of the cafe as customers and workers alike waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. Working quickly, they flipped the photo to a communal sigh of consensus and a loud "hupa!" 

All continued on as usual then, and I got back to my date with my friend. I was feeling quite self-satisfied with the proceedings and chuckling to myself at my "only-in-Israel" experience. My American friend was still shocked by my Chutzpah. As we were preparing to depart I saw one laborer gazing intently at the photograph and then angrily declaring to the manager/owner "You know what? now it's upside down to me! I think it was right the other way!" 

I left grinning. What a typical afternoon in an Israeli cafe! The only thing missing in this picture was some well-meaning stranger trying to set me up with their son. Maybe next time... :D 

Here's the photo--I knew you're all so Israeli and therefore need to see the photo for yourselves. :D

***

One other incident happened this week. Because I am leaving my department at the hospital, I want to buy a present for the secretary because she has always been overwhelmingly kind and patient with me, and over the last year we have grown somewhat close. She has several plants in her office, so the obvious choice is to purchase a tasteful watering can for her. 

I happened to be at a large mall last week so I entered a quaint gift shop full of knick-knacks, hopeful I would find exactly what I was looking for. I combed the store to no avail, there was no watering pail in sight. I decided I would have to ask the clerk. Of course, I have no idea how to say watering can in Hebrew. I stubbornly refused to ask in English, despite the fact that I was in a major mall in Tel Aviv and obviously they would also understand English. 

Swallowing my pride I jotted "watering can" into Google translate and got "מזלף" as a result. For those of you who are also Olim, I am sure you can relate to the moment I then faced: "Well Shira", I said to myself, "probably that is how you actually say it. But what if it isn't? What if it's actually some swear word in slang, or perhaps an antiquated word? What if she looks at you like a lunatic and it becomes obvious you are a fraud?" Sucking in another deep breath, I advanced toward the clerk and shyly asked "סליחה, יש לך מזלף? לגינה?" I had added "for a garden" just in case. To my surprise and delight she immediately knew what I wanted and looked at me like I was indeed a normal person. She pointed me to the single one left in the store, buried in a corner. It happened to be unsuitable for the secretary, but that's beside the point. 

That moment was rough when I asked and I was waiting in limbo for a half second for her to answer, asking myself "Have I said a real word or did I just ask for gibberish?" I am 22 years old and it should not be a big deal to ask for a watering can. But alas, it really is. It is an ordeal each time. When I shop I try to hide my accent because I'm scared I'll be cheated if labeled a "foreigner." I remain silent in stores and take my chances with google translate rather than using English and risk revealing my identity. We all have to learn at some point, right? This time, it worked out just fine. And onward we go. Each day something new, forever advancing on the journey to feeling truly at home in the homeland. 


השבוע היה כיף כשאני מתקדמת עם הלימודים שלי של השפה והתרבות. כל פעם הקושי יורד עוד טיפה עד שיום אחד יהיה קל 

Translation: This week was fun as I am moving forward in my learning of the language and the culture. Each time the toughness lessens a drop until one day it will be easy.


I remain yours etc.,
Shira 

Moving not "abandoning" anyone!

Hello readers,

I have some news to share, and it's somewhat huge: I'm moving to Jerusalem! After much deliberation and consideration I have come to the decision that I want to finish my second year of Sherut Leumi (still can't decide if I should be a doctor or not, so not the most intelligent decision to run off to start studying anything yet) and I want to do it in the holy capital. There were many components to the decision including my utter disdain for my current living situation, my lack of friends in the area, and my general feelings that this isn't the part of the country I want to live in. I began to feel like I was on the bus all the time to Jerusalem as I was last year. I also really want to help my married siblings and I physically can't reach them during the week with the buses because it takes too long and I'm not able to get back to my apartment in time for work the next day. Essentially I have every other reason to move except for the department that I work in, which is nice to me and I enjoy working there.

This decision was difficult to make, and had many factors. A while ago I had inquired of my Rabbi, only somewhat in jest, what I should do with my life. The Rabbi's answer was direct and simple: "If you see a sign, it means yes." This sentence has been simmering in the back of my mind ever since. When my sister and I had decided we wanted to move to Jerusalem we began looking for positions on the internet. At first I received no leads. I tried again asking for names of coordinators instead of the position itself and this time obtained some information. I called the coordinators at all the major hospitals and received the same answers: "Sorry we have no openings for that position. You could do something else if you'd like." One lady even went so far as to kindly explain that the position of a medical assistant is so specific it is not the kind of thing that opens up in the middle of the year. I realized Jerusalem wasn't for me at this time and that I wasn't supposed to move yet. I was resigned and accepting.

Two days later I received a text saying that actually a position had just opened up asking if it was still relevant to me. I made some phone calls and the same woman who two days before had told me they never open up positions mid-year said that a new Internal ward had opened up and they needed a Medical Assistant (a.k.a. a vampire like myself). The woman told me she thought the position had fallen from the heavens--SIGN NUMBER ONE. We met the next day, and I was immediately accepted (they didn't have any other prospects) and not only that, but it's in the same branch of my current Sherut Leumi program making transfering very easy and not involving any paper work--SIGN NUMBER TWO. Next I was told I should be in touch with the coordinator in charge of apartments. I called her and was told she has exactly one empty spot in an apartment in Kiryat Moshe, which is a religious neighborhood right by the central bus station. I couldn't ask for a more perfect location--SIGN NUMBER THREE.

For the first time in a long while, everything was just falling into place for me. Things just kept working. It was an incredible feeling. I began to understand what the Rabbi meant. So far a few parts have been sad, like saying goodbye to my current department, and the one family that I babysit for and love to pieces, but they've been surprisingly understanding. I'm learning that Israelis are really tough. Their ability to accept and process bad news is amazing. Mostly they have started by being surprised and sad, and then said things like "Okay then, well good luck." "Shira we'll be sad but you have to do what is best for you." These sentiments have really heartened me. I struggle a lot with letting people down, and it's really hard for me to tell people I'm leaving them to go do something else. I'm growing a lot from this experience.

My roommates still have no idea how much I despise some of them (I obviously do not hate them all, but a select and loud minority I find impossible to live with). I think here people just assume if you have a problem you will air it out to everyone so if you're not verbally complaining everything must be just dandy. I'm not from a culture like that. I will always be polite to the people I board with, even if I hate their guts and wish them miles and miles away. Truth be told, my deparment also seems suprised because when I'm at work I look happy and fine, but they don't realize outside of work my life in Kfar Saba is dry and lifeless. They don't realize this because I don't talk about my problems at work! It's not really professional or relevant to them. Sigh, very very different cultures.

Another cultural difference is that the word used when someone leaves is עוזב (abandon) but I refuse to tell people I'm abandoning anyone or any place. I am quit simply, MOVING. I have gotten into arguments with people but I remain strong and refuse to say I'm abandoning. This small linguiscal difference has cultural affects. Abandoning has a negative context, almost as if a guilt trip is built in. Israelis think "No, that's just how we say it. It's the word we use and we all know what it means." This is very true, but I feel it carries with it an ominous undertone.

Well that's all for now. Wish me luck with my new adventure and if you're in Jerusalem do come call on me!

I remain yours etc.,
Shira

אז זהו עוד שלב שעובר אבל יהיה טוב בסוף. קצת קשה לי עכשיו אבל זה מאוד טבעי ויעבור. אני מחכה עד שיהיה גם כל כך ברור מה אלמד והאם אהיה רופאה בסוף או לא. כמו תמיד תודה לה" על כל העזרה שלו.

Translation: So that's it, another level that is passing but it will be good in the end. It is a little hard for me now, but is natural and will pass. I'm waiting until it will also be clear what I will learn and if I will be a doctor in the end or not. Like always, thanks to G-d for all his help.

As Summer Fades into Fall

Hello my dear readers,

The ideas swimming in my head aren't yet formed into something corporate enough to write about so I settled on a poem instead. The poem was supposed to express my feelings as the season is changing and summer is fading into autumn, but I don't feel it does justice to my thoughts. I suppose it is a start of sorts. Do try to enjoy!

I feel the season changing as my hours are with the clock.
Soon we shan't be able to leave home without  boots or sweaters.
When the first rain falls for all of two seconds, the natives I gleefully mock.
Yest still I dread the oncoming colds and flus from which we must now get better.

Darkness is more prevalent now, and in mornings it is hard to wake.
The path to school and work is fraught with chill and nip.
For some of my patients ankles and wrists will now start to ache.
Motivation is harder to come by, and ever chapped is my lip.

Sunshine is still found each day, although less and less.
The warmth of her I do so long for, as her friends the clouds take over.
I miss the days of summer now, when all was free and my hair a happy mess.
In summer everything feels right and it is easy to dream of rainbows and four-leaf clovers.

Well now you see why I don't rhyme or write poems, as my skills do dearly lack!
I ask only that you read with patience, since perhaps one day I will find my true knack!

I remain yours (a less than desirable poet),
Shira

היום קשה לי לכתוב את המחשבות שלי אז כתבתי שירה...ממש פחות כדאי לי!
Translation: Today it's hard for me to write my thoughts so I wrote a poem...really not worthwhile for me!

A Non-Apologetic Attempt at Blog Stability

Hello Cyberspace!

I am so sick of starting a post with an apology for not having posted in ages (weeks, months, whatever it is really) so this time I won't; I'll start with a statement. With the help of G-d this year I would like to schedule a post a week, most likely it shall fall out on Fridays. We shall see how this goes, and in the meantime do bear with me. I intend to try my best!

I've peered back at the last post I uploaded and much time and many adventures have since transpired. Some major life events are included in the following list:

-I finished my first year of national service (in place of military service)
-I went to America for a three week visit
-I began to feel very lost in my life
-I have a new niece!

Gee whiz, I know myself quite well and honestly I am quite capable of dedicating a post to each of these developments but I shall try my utmost to keep each matter to a paragraph...or two.

Serving my country is and was a whirlwind of merriment, responsibility, jest, gravity, disappointment, wonder, and maturation. Spending any sizable amount of time volunteering one's time has an affect on us human beings, and I venture the act of giving of myself every single day for an entire year did influence me. The largest aspect I took from my first year of Sherut was Hebrew. My language skills improved and progressed in ways I had never dreamed possible. My conversational skills and linguistic abilities soared and I now am able to confidently maintain that I speak "Basic Hebrew."

Additionally, I built several friendships with, quite shockingly to myself, Hebrew speaking girls, which eventually culminated with me being able to spend a Shabbat with Hebrew-speaking girls for a birthday. On that Shabbat I learned the importance of being able to say no. There was a game being played where one girl would put a piece of paper with a noun on her head and she would have to guess what it was with the help of the other girls. This is essentially a text-book nightmare situation for an immigrant. I participated marginally in the rounds and when the turn for the paper got to me I politely declined. Some of the girls began insisting I take the paper proclaiming "I'll help you! Here I have an easy one for you!" They didn't realize of course, but this sentiment of theirs only added insult to injury: I don't want an easy one or help. Had we been playing in English I would have managed fabulously on my own, thank you very much! I held my ground and eventually the girls accepted my stance. I didn't have the heart to explain to them, but the truth is that that kind of game will probably never be fun for me in Hebrew. This Shabbat taught me I don't have to accept passively that sinking dread in my stomach when a game is suggested; I do not have to welcome the heat that starts prickling my neck or the moisture that pools on my palm as my turn approaches--I can just say "No, thank you."

***

America! Oh lord, what a splendid continent! My sisters and I enjoyed a three week holiday on that golden soil. Grandmothers were visited, elder sisters were placated, much shopping was done, and friends were called on for the first time in two years! America was a sweet respite from daily immigrant life and a timely reminder that I am growing up and it's time to make some adult decisions. Two elements of the trip I would like to share here. First, I had anticipated a huge headache upon arrival based on the sudden deluge of English and I thought being surrounded by my mother-tongue all hours of the day would cause an ache in my brain. I was pleasantly surprised that the opposite was true. I didn't feel any additional pressure in my head from the English, rather I felt a pressure being released as I understood the entirety of my surroundings. It was similar to letting out a breath I had been holding; like my shoulders relaxing even though I hadn't realized they were tense for so long. It was a serene sensation. 

The second element was a somewhat sad realization. I had expected all my childhood friends to comment on how Israeli I had become. I was imagining comments on my style of dress, forward mode of speech, and lack of respect for private space. Instead, nobody showed any reaction at all, and most people treated me exactly the same. One chap even went so far as to inform me when I apologized for asking a personal question and that I have no boundaries "Shira, you've never had any boundaries." And I think this is how many felt, that I hadn't 'become' Israeli at all, I've always been Israeli. I was a little defeated after this epiphany, but I suppose for much more of my life than I had assumed I have been people's "Israeli friend." There are worst titles, however, so despite my disillusionment I will prevail!

***

While on my holiday, I started thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life. Essentially, I have lost my way a little bit. I have strayed from my inner path and am looping around to hopefully arrive at some answers. I find myself drawn to medicine, but I take much issue with standard medical practice. I lack the patience to be a nurse and am attracted to the liveliness of doctors. I want to help and heal, but would make a disastrous nurse, a doable doctor, and not-totally-certain what kind of physiotherapist. I'm very muddled! My perplexed self is trying to learn/master the art of living day by day. If anyone has some good counsel on how one decides what do do with themselves in their lives, please leave a comment. 

***

Lastly, I have a new niece! Her name is Shalhevet Alma Rivkah and she is a beautiful specimen who does proud to the family name. I love her loads already <3

I remain yours,

Shira 

Tried to post in Hebrew but formatting was being wacky, perhaps next time there will be more luck. 

Interview With an Olah Chadasha

Hello Readers!

This is a very spontaneous post. I decided it was time for some outside input, and therefore thought to interview another Olah Chadasha. And so, without further ado, let's talk with Maya!

When did you make Aliyah? The end of August, 2014. (One year and 9 mos. ago)

How old where you when you made Aliyah? Almost 17yo.

Did you want to make Aliyah? Absolutely not.

How did you feel when you received the decision that you would be moving?  Upset and in denial up until the flight, which I spent most of crying.

What was it like in the way beginning after arriving? Stepping off the plane?  I kept hoping it was a nightmare and that I would wake up soon.

What did you do when you got to Israel?  Got my luggage and then into a taxi.

I meant more generally, like in the first half year or so. What did you do then?  Wept a lot, and then did an Ulpan , and adjusted to the climate, and food, and culture.

How are the climate, food, and culture different? Than in America?

No, in France you dweeb. Yes than in America!  The food here is more flavorful and pungent than American food. I've adjusted to Israeli food now, but I still miss American food. Oh, La Victoria!

Climate? I love the climate here when it's sunny out. I was always cold in America. Because I'm cold-hearted :P Sweat stains are the new fashion.

Culture?  Culture? Still not adjusted fully. Probably never will be. I feel strongly Russian at heart...stam stam (JK JK).

Can you explain what exactly you still haven't adjusted to in the culture? Israel is a country that eats its own inhabitants. What I mean by that, is that an Israeli soldier was put in jail for shooting a terrorist trying to kill him. People say Israel is really warm and family-like, and when I hear that, I think of a caring and loving family. But what I realized is that when people say "like a family" they didn't specify "warm" and "loving;" just "family." Some families are dysfunctional. I  have met some phenomenal people here, and some horrid.

What did you do after Ulpan? Until now.  After Ulpan until last summer I worked on finishing my high school and babysitting to raise money to visit America. Since last September, I have been doing National Service by working in a preschool with some of the kindest people in the world, as well as helping families in the afternoons.

What was it like during your visit in America? How did it affect you and how you felt about the Aliyah decision? It was amazing. I enjoyed every day there. When I moved to Israel, I thought basically that America had disappeared forever and that there was no going back. I knew theoretically that it still existed, but I didn't feel that way. I think it really strengthened me to see that life had continued after I left. When I came back to Israel I felt renewed and like a new person.

What is it like to do National Service as a new immigrant? It's okay. I chose to do National Service in a gated community of over 600 families. It's easier I think because it's smaller and I'm not overwhelmed by city life. The community was actually started by immigrants. I have found that people in childcare have lots of patience to listen to all my mistakes in Hebrew. When I started working in the community they gave me an adoptive family, and that has also really helped me because whenever I am confused by something in the culture or have forms to fill out, I  have a loving adoptive mother to help me.

How do you feel now about Aliyah nearly two years later? Any different?  Yeah. I have much more positive feelings for it now and don't regret it. Well...I still have those days. *Blush*

What positive feelings? Please explain.  I feel freer to be a Jew here, and currently I'm a little drunk on independence. It's a normal thing to hitchhike here, so I get around ;) I have also have made some great friends for life that have helped me change my view of Israelis.

Can you pinpoint when your feelings started to change towards Aliyah?  Yes, when I returned from my visit to America. I realized this isn't the final destination, it's just a stop on the way of life.

So do you intend to return to America? Or are you here forever?  We'll see who I marry. I'm not opposed either way.

Do you have any advice for new immigrants? What has helped you?  Don't compare yourself to Other immigrants, everyone grows and changes at their own pace. What has really helped me is making good friends.

What's the worst experience you've had here? Whoa, hard to pinpoint just one. Probably when I was returning home one week before a holiday, and was standing in line to board the bus when I was lifted off my feet and thrust forward by the sheer mass of people shoving to board the bus. It brought to mind things I have heard about the Holocaust and being herded onto trains.

What's the best experience you've had here? I've had some good ones, and one that comes to mind easily is when we went on The Party Boat on the Kinneret with my mom and sisters.

What do you find the most endearing about Israelis? That if they are poor, they are generous.

What do you find the most annoying about Israelis? Their impatience and hot tempers (because of the heat).

Do you consider yourself Israeli or American or both? Haven't we been over this? I'm Russian. :P :P Unfortunately I think I am half and half, but I try to connect more to my American side and hope to remain that way.

Why?  There is something special about Americans. Maybe because we know we're better than everyone?

To be annoying like all Israelis, dare we ask "how is your Hebrew?" Definitely improved since when I first got here. I feel comfortable to leave my house now and go out. I still don't like events all in Hebrew though. But overall, I would say I understand day-to-day Hebrew and can speak when not under pressure.

Anything else you would like to share with us? Yes. Most people think I am negative about making Aliyah, but I would recommend it to other people, and I have come to terms with it and am happy with my family's decision. 



And a big thank you to Maya! Shabbat Shalom everyone and be well. :)

On EKGs and Growing a Backbone

Hello dear readers,

I recently went through an experience where I had to stand up for myself in my position in National Service and I'd like to share a few (haha, as if) words about it here:

During the course I took before I started my job I learned several things, including biology, anatomy, how to draw blood, how to measure vital signs, and how to do an EKG test. My job as a medical assistant can include all of those, but I understood a typical day included showing up at 7:00 am, doing blood work, sitting in on morning conference if time permits, following the doctors on their rounds and in general assisting the doctors with paperwork, consultations, phone-calls, etc.

A few months ago I got a phone call from a woman who told me she was in charge of the EKG's getting done in the Internal wards and that she was having trouble scheduling a woman to come do them for the whole ward on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and that she understood that I had learned how to do them. I agreed to help her out twice a week because I thought I was being nice. In hindsight, I should have checked with my doctors and boss if this was okay, but I just thought I was helping...so I didn't think to ask.

As time wore on the woman began calling me on Sundays mornings often because the usual woman was late, and could I take over for her? She often woke me up on my long bus rides. A few weeks ago it happened that lady who usually does my ward was sick all week. I wasn't told that at the beginning of the week, but each day it was thrust on me. At one point I got a phone call from a different woman who was very nasty to me on the phone and asked me what I was doing at that moment. I said I was in the middle of a procedure with a patient. She asked what procedure. I said an urgent EKG the doctor had requested. She said "well you can wait for the doctors to request each one or you can get off the phone and do the whole list." She was so horrid to me on the phone that afterwards I sobbed. I was being spoken to like an animal or a slave. Everything was just my "job." I had had enough. I was feeling abused. Yes, I had learned how to do EKGS in my course, and yes of course if a new patient arrived in the middle of the day, or someone complained of chest pain I was definatly the girl to call to do an EKG. But a list of 15-25 patients daily? No, that wasn't my job,

It's a physical job,
I was missing rounds (I also do research for the head of the ward during rounds),
sometimes older men could be inappropriate during an EKG,
and many of my friends in the same position as me had similar stories.

 We complained to our coordinator, who sent us to our wards. At one point the original woman who had called me came to explain to me in person what was going on. She happened to be American and she explained to me in English that it was a plan to have the Medical Assistant girls take over from the beginning, that it was our job, etc. I told her I felt like a technician, I hated coming to work, and I had been told I was to do EKGS only if they were urgent or sudden, not on a regular basis. Neither of us yelled and I recall working hard to keep my body language open. I must have repeated a dozen times that I didn't want to do it, although I didn't shout once. She also explained that until she had an order from higher up she wasn't going to do anything about it. She said we all have to do things outside our job description, it's part of working within a system, and essentially grow up and deal with it.

But despite not cursing each other or even raising our voices, we each got our points across in our quiet, polite, and very controlled row. She sent a different woman to do the EKGS the next day and the woman said "yes I came today because I was told you were fed up."  I didn't go back to the original woman because I knew she didn't care five cents about me, and would only change if I got someone higher up involved. Before she left I said "want to come with me right now to my coordinator?" to which she replied she "had no time and was under a lot of pressure." No surprise there. In the end we had to go higher up, and we had a meeting with the head or Human resources. In between I spoke with the head nurse of my department who remained diplomatic for the most part. She also started to lecture me on team work and reliability. I was very frustrated by these speeches I kept receiving, as I work hard at being a diligent and reliable worker. I remembered my Israeli friend counseling me to cry because in Israel things start to happen when it gets emotional. So even though I felt like and actor and a fraud, I started to bawl on que:"I feel like a technician," I wailed. "I'm just a volunteer," I whimpered. "You know me, I come every morning with so much zest and energy to work, and now I don't care. I don't care to be on time. I just hate it. I wake up angry every day," I wept,  I let the water works flow, and when the head nurse asked why I didn't feel like a blood technician when I took blood every day I told her the truth---I knew that was my job from the course, so I was expecting it. I knew before I was supposed to help daily with blood work,

The head of Human Resources took care of it for us, but the meeting with her wasn't exactly a rosy experience. From the about half that I actually understood, she seemed to think that we were snobs who thought we were above everybody else. She outright told us that the other National Service girls in other positions work harder than us. From what I understood we were being scolded for being hoidy toidy. My one Israeli friend who had repeatedly told me how much we had to stand on, how deeply it wasn't our jobs, and had assured me she would bring a copy of a law protecting us...did none of those things. She sat quietly and let less articulate girls butcher their arguments. No one seemed to be able to maneuver the conversation in our favour, and as for me, well I was so busy trying to parse and translate the words this woman was spewing quite quickly from her angry mouth, there was no way I could correctly  translate what she said, formulate a response (because I probably had a good one as I had thought about this issue a lot), translate it back to Hebrew in my head, and then say the words without butchering them. Absolutely no way. And the woman seemed in such a hurry and without patience even for the native Hebrew speakers, I didn't dare try much more than mono syllable responses.

In the end, she did get them to stop using us for EKG technicians. But we all left with the feeling of being told off. The situation isn't fun for me, I know the EKG people are overworked and understaffed. But I also know it wasn't my job either. I feel really bad, but when I think back to how the EKG boss woman viewed it, what she said to me in English so I know I couldn't have misunderstand it, I was appalled at how she outright told me she was informed she could "use" National Service girls for this job. You use a spoon to eat, you don't use a person.

Some reflections and lessons I learned from this difficult situation:

*In my expereince Israelis don't seem to hear or think I mean anything I say if I haven't yelled or cried. I feel a cultural miscommunication because for me I would swallow a lot before I asked someone to stop doing something annoying. The first time I ask, it's as if I yelled. If I have to repeat myself, it's as if I have shattered a plate, and if I have to say it a third time, so help me G-d I called all their friends and family and boss and they are in serious trouble. But I could do all of this in a calm voice. Alas, my verbal and non-verbal cues don't seem to mean very much on this side of the hemisphere.

*Sometimes in life the right thing to do feels like the wrong thing to do. To make ultimate change for everyone we have to stand up and admit there are problems, and start fixing them. Even though I have caused more work for people and I do feel very bad for them on a personal level, maybe they will now see that people should be treated better. Girls made a bug fuss when they weren't treated right and hopefully this will stick with some of the involved parties.. Every day in the lunch line for water at the hospital cafeteria at least two people cut me off in line to get drinks first. I always go to the proper place in line and wait my turn. Instead of "learning to be Israeli" and starting to cut, I figure if I don't cut enough times, perhaps someone will see it and notice. If 500,000 more polite people move to Israel and don't cut, maybe we can change the etiquette here. I love Israel and a lot of what Israelis represent (bravery, kindness without question, etc) but I don't think there is any religious or cultural benefit to being impolite or uncouth.

*At one point I told a coworker some of what was going on and how uncomfortable I would feel with older men flirting with me during EKGs. She told me that this was the lot of women in life. I couldn't believe my ears. How easy she said this, like she accepted it. She admitted it was wrong, but was already beyond hope it would ever change. This gravely saddened me, and I saw that here for many workers this kind of attitude and expectation is the norm.

*I (re)learned that for most things in life it is better to rely on yourself and trust as few people as possible. No one can do the job you want how you would do it, so just do it. I was disappointed that my friends who speak and understand Hebrew weren't more organized, and didn't stand up and present themselves and our arguments better. I should have known better than to rely on anyone else, and just maybe I should have piped in my two cents in English. It is a sad lesson, but reliance on others is not always optimal.

*I learned not to agree to anything here without explicit permission and much thought. For my innocent unschooled brain it was hard to halt all my curiosities. It was difficult to train myself not to just answer "hey I can do that!" But I am learning it, and it is making me profoundly question my career choices; if I want to own my own business and or clinic, and many other relevant issues. It's shaken up my personal universe,

As always, my stories are a mix of coming of age, the trials and adventures of a foreigner in her homeland, and the tales of a  sometimes rather unlucky girl. Thanks for reading. :)

I remain yours,
Shira

A Small Study

Dear Readers,

Okay this is me posting...no for real this time! It's been two months people! That's a long time, you know. 

So today let's talk about the people I spend most of my day with. The species with which I communicate daily, that is the ever feared and sometimes revered ISRAELIS.

Let's analyze a typical evening for a bat sherut (girl doing national service, literally daughter of service): Last night my friend and roommate came back to the apartment complaining of red, itchy eyes. Her eyes were quite swollen, and had been all day. She works in the hospital like me, and she told me she had told the nurses all day. Finally at the end of the day one of them said to her it sure looked like pink eye and she should take eye drops. Another nurse protested, don't give her drops until we know what it is! Send her to a doctor first. They couldn't manage to get a doctor to write her a referral to the emergency room (although really he could just scrawl "please take so and so to the ER", and as long as he used his doctor stamp it would work. But whatever), and of course she can't just go to the eye ward of the hospital, it "doesn't work like that." She was told all this and then given a number for a clinic. When I saw how much she was suffering and how hurt she was by the less-than-helpful hospital staff she worked with, I told her "yallah we'll go together, maybe we can even grab dinner on the way back." Of course she got red puffy eyes on Valentines day. <3 

We interacted with six individuals/sets of people. Here is my synopsis of the Israeli condition from the following sample. 

1) When you ask a girl for help and the nearby male jumps to the rescue. 

Know those types? The dreamy, dark, former Combat soldiers with bulging muscles, sultry skin, and fathomless eyes? Yup, we talked with him. After descending from the bus on the main street, we weren't sure how to get to the side street we needed. We went in to a little health food shop on the main drag and asked the female teller how to get to the street we needed. From a different part of the store the aforementioned hottie hollered "I'll show you! Come with me." He promptly lead us out and in typical Israeli fashions pointed and a lot and gesticulates with his hands. He even called us back to say he wasn't sure if it was two or three traffic circles. What a sweetie. He was NICE. 

2) When you go to the doctor and he's angry at the world and makes you feel like a twit for being sick

We arrived and the harried secretary gave us a number for room 6 with a family doctor. Sababa, we went to wait. As we watched the others in front of us in line enter the room we began to get apprehensive as the doctor kept walking in and out and slamming the door, Nevertheless we waited our turn and then entered. 

Doctor: Who are you? 

Roommate: I'm sick.

Doctor: Good sit here. And who are you?

Me: Friend and roommate,

Doc: Fine, sit there. 

He then proceeded to demand her symptoms, hardly actually checking her, let alone making eye contact with her. She meekly described what she was suffering from as he furiously typed, pounding on the keys and typing the lord knows what, since he wasn't actually discussing her symptoms with her, 

The short visit continued like this, my friend timidly repeating what the nurses had suspected, and he decided she may have a small infection and proscribed her some eye drops. Oh, her throat hurts? Well okay he'll just slam a wooden paddle down her throat...only to proclaim "nope, all clear."

As we were ushered out, my roommate, who grew up in America, was telling me how appalled she was. She was so angry, and had never encountered a doctor who actually made her feel foolish for coming to him! With her blood boiling, I tried to calm her down. He was NOT NICE.

3) When the checker patronizes you instead of screaming. Not sure what's worse actually

We went to the 5 shekel supermarket which was nearby and new to the area. We excitedly piled our items at the checkout and I added a coffee chocolate bar (super yum), After I had paid and was bagging (yes, bagging myself. Help with bagging is a major luxury here), I realized I had accidentally bought dark chocolate not milk chocolate. When I asked the checker if I could switch because I hadn't noticed it was dark she responded with "No honey." "Why not?" I asked. "Because cutie, then I would have to use a different code. You have to tell me before you pay." And she gave me the you're such an idiot I feel bad for you look. She was NOT NICE.

4) When the bus driver yells at you for putting your rav kav (special bus card/pass) in the wrong way-classic

My poor, sweet roommate. We waited at the bus stop for a bus to the mall and we saw one and ran to a different stop a little bit up the street because here, the buses sort of only stop where they want, and when they want. So if you see one you must wave your arms like a crazy person and hail the bus the way people hail cabs in New York. Strange place.  Anyway, as we breathlessly got on he told me to go back and use my rav kav in the machine in the back part of the bus, My roommate didn't hear it and stuck her card in the front machine, Mistake! She was told off and he readjusted her card. He was NOT NICE. 

5) When the security guard jokes around and then you flirt back :D

We made it to the mall. My roommate's flying back to The States to visit her family, so we decided to go there to look for jewelry for her sisters and mother. The security guard looked in our shopping bags from the supermarket jokingly remarking "so what did you bring me, Oooh, I see bamba!" to which I immediately insisted he take a bag. "I even bought two!" I told him, He didn't go for it, but he smiled quite prettily and I think we made him laugh. He was NICE.

6) Shopkeepers sort of have to be nice if they want you to buy stuff...

And indeed they were, Totally polite and understanding about our tiny budget since we're broke bnot sherut. We ended up getting gifts for her mom and sister. They were persuasive but also NICE. 

So there you have it. One night, six encounters, three nice and three not nice. The Israeli is indeed hard to figure out and they often leave me stumped. The same girl who can yell at you for 10 minutes strait about your place at work and being out of line can turn around the next day and spend hours helping you with boy trouble. The same super sweet, polite, doctor can be tired one day and yell at all the patients. To be honest, I'm still baffled.

Until next time, I remain yours etc,

Shira

Temporarily not posting in Hebrew because only have English keys on the laptop. I'll work on that :D

But to go with the theme, this is a funny little snippet of something that happened today:

Roommate: Ugh, there are no little markets around here.

Me: What are you talking about? There's one down the street! *Points in direction of market*

Roommate: No, it closed.

Me (somewhat reflectively): So that's what that long, handwritten sign in Hebrew that I didn't bother to read that was posted on the door was about...