Question: what does it mean to buy a one-way ticket to Israel?
Answer:
It means hauling five tons of potatoes, eggplant, onion, garlic, cucumber, bread, pasta, couscous, almonds, assorted spices, cold cuts and cheese back to my apartment.
I remember telling friends right before I left how excited I was about cooking in Israel — one of the highlights of living in the student village at Hebrew University last summer. We had a gorgeously unfurnished dorm: with high windows looking out to the nearby apartment complex, five single rooms, and two bathrooms. Best of all, was our kitchen. We each had our own cabinet, a large refrigerator, toaster oven, stove, and sink.
What I’m bemoaning in my house in Haifa is our under-equipped kitchen. It’s definitely usable. And thanks to all the students who pass in and out of our dorm, we have a fair amount of cutlery and pans accumulated.
But, literally, our stove is challenging me to cooking limbo. It’s so low that you have to bend over to stir soup or eggs, even if you’re barely medium-sized. At my height, I feel as if I’m practically developing a hunchback.
Last night, my boss kindly took me to a large complex five minutes away by driving. It had all my foodstuff dreams: from a happily un-kosher Russian market, to a standard grocery store, to a cheap clothing store peddling stiff bras and socks, and most importantly, a fine bakery. I was able to begin stocking my modest kitchen. That’s what I find most difficult of picking up and moving to an unfamiliar place, be it as close as my Craigie Street apartment next year or my shared house in Haifa. You take for granted basic staples — from the edible, the infinite supply of rice and pasta, to the supporting, a non-stick pan, salt, and olive oil.
But already my mind is swirling with ideas about how to use my five cucumber sticks and the potatoes that remind me more of bruised noses, at this point, than a meal.
Last summer, I didn’t quite make the daring transition to cooking meats because I was both too lazy and timid to handle chicken from a foreign country. The most I hazarded was canned tuna, and even then, I had trouble using the portable can opener that only my Orthodox roommate, Sarah, had mastered. This year, I’m going to begin slowly: first buy a few pieces of frozen schnitzel from the Russian market before transitioning to the butcher’s down the street in Wadi Nisnas. I will buy bread crumbs. And hopefully, within a few weeks’ time, you’ll find me proudly holding a deep-fried chicken patty.
Answer, again:
It means finding creative solutions for the uncompromising cold at night. Forgetting that Israel is still halfway to India, I packed a little too warmly and too optimistically than I should’ve. Yes, I checked weather.com. And yes, I saw that the highs were in the seventies and the lows in the low fifties.
That didn’t stop me from carelessly flinging my gray coat onto my mom’s shoulders as I hugged her goodbye.
But it’s not for wandering the cold, hilly streets of Haifa at night that I need a coat. I need a coat to stay warm in my bed at night. Unfortunately, our window is always slightly ajar because of a design technicality. While we’ve made meek inquiries to get it fixed, the easier solution is just to bundle up, tighten up, and lasso one’s own body heat.
Even my heavy blanket, which would give even a thick-skinned man a desperate sweat in Cambridge, leaves me still feeling as if permanent draft is whispering above my skin. I wear full outfits to bed now, socks included. I was so cold two nights ago that I sat up and began folding my blanket, origami-style. Till it was layered but still wide enough to fit snuggly around my body.
As a co-worker reassured cheekily, in a few weeks’ time the real warm weather will set in. And Allah or Yaweh or, if you believe in science, the Sun will smile happily on the Holy Land.
Thrice answered:
It means feeling justified enough to write a mundane blog entry about mundane topics. Because, this time, I am not a tourist or study abroad student. I am a long-term resident who has to schedule an appointment with the Ministry to renew her visa.
Welcome to Israel.
