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