This past week in Jerusalem I had the privilege of enjoying some splendid winter weather. I want to take this opportunity to share some photos I snapped and also to share some of my thoughts on winter weather in Israel.
Reminiscence:
I woke up one morning to my roommate staring out the window and shouting "Oh my gosh, I can barely see past the next house!" I was so excited, and when I saw the fog I was even more charmed. That morning on my way to Service I couldn't stop photographing the winter wonderment. The petrichor elated me, and I found myself grinning unexpectedly at no one and nothing in particular. It's hard to put into words, but when the sky is grey and the asphalt streets are dark with moisture I can't help but feel at home. I feel like I belong in a way I just don't the rest of the time when the sky is baby-blue clear and the sun shines down fiercely on me. I spent so much of my childhood watching raindrops fall against windows and looking heavenward for answers in an overcast sky. The sound of rain is peaceful to me, and I could watch raindrops land in puddles for hours. The damp feel of the brush (the meager amount of brush I find in the holy city!) as I walk past it is tranquility itself for someone like me. I don't find the opaqueness of the fog blinding, but rather it opens my eyes and imagination and paints the whole city like aqueous strokes on a canvas.
When I got to work on this day, there was a skip in my step. When the night shift doctor asked how I was, I bouncily explained that I absolutely loved the weather and was having a fantastic morning. He was unimpressed and asked why I felt so much at home. I patiently explained to him that I come from a place where it rains nine months out of the year and fog is a near constant companion. The weather didn't dampen my spirits at all!
Adapting to Israeli Winter:
In my home state there are trees everywhere and they offer protection from the wind. Here there is no shelter to be sought in the boughs of any tree since the few trees that manage to take sustenance from the sparse rainfall, only yield scrawny and lanky branches. When it rains here in Israel, it feels much more serious and every rain is like a storm with huge gusts of winds attacking everyone and the rain drops feel larger and more dagger-like. Thus, despite fighting much embarrassment and shame, I use an umbrella sometimes. I would never have agreed to such a silly concept in Oregon, and over there everyone could spot a non Oregonian miles away based on if they carried an umbrella. Sigh, I have now joined the dark side.
The driving here is both highly amusing and tragic when it rains or is stormy out. Growing up in such a wet state, we learned early on in driving lessons how to handle ourselves in hail, heavy rain, drizzle, fog, frozen rain, icy roads, etc. Israelis, however, are shocked anew each time more than a few droplets spill from the sky, and often put on their emergency lights and slip into the right lane so they can go at exaggeratedly slow speeds. The slick roads also are hard for them to navigate, and just about every time it rains there is an immediate spike in automobile accidents, which is very sad.
Last week I found myself on a bus Saturday night and it began to rain heavily. The whole freeway came to a near standstill as most everyone on the road stopped to wait it out. The rain fell thickly on the bus windows and the outside world looked like a mirage. Suddenly, it began to hail, and little white balls were furiously hurled down from the heavens. The whole bus was abuzz and kept excitedly shutting the windows and looking out avidly. The girl next to me excitedly asked me "do you think it's snow or hail?!" I restrained myself, and told her it was hail, because the sound it makes; snow is quieter. In my head, I also told her it isn't quite logical that it would snow mere seconds after rain, as it snows when it's too cold for rain. I thought it was adorable how eager she was.
A last issue I will raise is dressing for the cold. Israelis, bless their souls, don boots and scarves on November first no matter what. In their minds, it is winter and ergo we switch to long sleeves, and heavy footwear. No matter if it's still 60 F outside. Now as winter really does set in, the layers increase and the coats lengthen and inflate, so that by the time February arrives no one leaves the house without looking like a Michelin snowman. And new mothers have it the worst. They insist on en-robing their infants not only with extraneous layers, but also snowsuits! In a country where in most places it never snows, and if it does, it rarely sticks. I was recently chatting with a friend in America and she was telling me about all the snow they had, and she causally mentioned to me how she really ought to invest in a snowsuit for her little son. I could scarcely contain my merriment as I related to her the bundled up state of many of the babies in Israel. :-)
I wish you all the best, and am still too lazy to post in Hebrew from this laptop.
I remain yours etc,
Shira
Raindrops on Glass
Har Herzl in the Fog
