Back at home

I am finally home. It was a longer trip than expected.

My journey back to Israel began easily enough, with the only hiccup being that I hadn't realized that the luggage regulations had changed and now instead of 70 pounds per bag, I was allowed only 50. So I ended up paying $50 for the overweight bags.

On my puddle jumper to Washington DC, we had a funny flight attendant. Funny as in ha-ha, mostly, but also a little strange.

The ha-ha stuff was like when she made the announcement about how she was going to give us the safety demonstration and said "and ya'll can pretend to follow along." And when she was telling us about the food service on the flight and how the drinks were the general soft drinks, but for food, she was going to make barbecued chicken, steak, etc.

The strange was at the end of the flight when she thanked the two small children for being so well-behaved and followed it up with singing us Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love of All" over the microphone. No kidding.

At least she had a decent voice. And didn't sing the entire song.

DC to Frankfurt was a long and uncomfortable flight. I hadn't switched to an aisle seat, and I ended up squashed by some grumpy man. He ended up being slightly less grumpy when I received my kosher meal, and it turns out that he and his wife have a vacation house about a mile from me. He was still grumpy, though.

Then I got to Frankfurt. And stayed in Frankfurt an extra 14 hours or so.

The national union in Israel had declared a strike. Since the strike began Wednesday morning, it was not even on my radar when I left Detroit on Tuesday morning.

So on Wednesday, as I was waiting and waiting and waiting for a gate to be given for my Frankfurt-Tel Aviv flight, I had no idea that I wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't until I went to the information desk to ask when a gate would be announced and got told I needed to go to the transfer desk that I realized something was wrong.

It turns out that Ben-Gurion Airport was closed, closed, closed. And there I was, stuck in Germany, of all freakin' places to be.

The kind people at Lufthansa even gave us meal vouchers -- 7 Euro for breakfast, 10 each for lunch and dinner.

Did I mention that in the airport in Frankfurt, Germany, there is nothing resembling Kosher?

So from 8am Wednesday until after midnight Wed/Thurs, I had a bottle of Diet Coke, a bag of animal crackers, and 1.5 liters of water.

But I did sleep in the airport. A lot. With the help of my little friend Nyquil Geltab.

When I got on the plane, I saw someone lying on a cot/stretcher with a curtain mostly around her. At first, I thought it was a flight attendant or something. It turned out that it was someone being transported to Israel who needed medical care.

And as I think I figured out when I checked the news after getting home -- I think that girl is the reason we got home. Most flights were still not being allowed in or out of Israel, but because that girl needed to get back here, our flight was given clearance.

Nothing like a little guilty feeling to round out a trip.

So now I'm home, and I turned the heaters on, and I have had the water heater on for the last hour so that when I get up, I'll have hot water for a shower.

And I think it's nap time.

Sleepless in Detroit

I'm sitting at my mom's computer (after having fixed the refresh rate of the monitor to a tolerable speed - i love being a geek) writing this at 3:48am, 22 November.

My trip was fairly uneventful, thank G-d. I always pray for non-exciting travels. In my experience, "exciting" and "travel" aren't usually good together.

Of course, I don't mean things like "Oh, we were there when the albino giraffe gave birth to quadruplets!" exciting. I mean more like "We have to turn around and go back to the gate, because of technical problems (and it being more like the wing of the plane is on fire)" type of exciting.

So uneventful is A Good Thing.

The highlights:

Getting to the airport and seeing a guy I interviewed a few days ago standing there. I can't get away from work, even when I'm away from work.

Being one of the few people who actually knew someone awake enough at 2:00 in the morning to be able to talk on the phone. (Which is ironic, actually, since I'm usually the one looking around at all the Israelis and wondering how, on earth, they have so many people to talk to that they're on the phone ALL the time.)

Walking through Ben-Gurion airport in a daze after 23 hours without sleep.

Laying on one of the chaise-lounge-for-business-travelers things in the Frankfurt airport while boarding announcements were made repeatedly, bilingually and loudly above my head.

Being checked by the large blonde woman (who actually appeared very sweet, and not intimidating in any way) at the airport:

While in line, I knew this was not, in fact, going to be a Good Thing. Nope. Not at all.

While hundreds of people are in line behind you, the process goes like this:

Walk up to the security belt. Put your things on to be x-rayed. Stand with your arms straight out. Try not to giggle when the woman runs her hands up and down your sides several times, both from the tickling and from the thought that you might actually have something there they should be worried about. Turn around. Stare at point in far-off space while she runs her hands over your chest, under your boobs, down your front, all over your butt, down the back of your legs to the ankles, back up them, over your butt again, your sides, your chest (and under it), your shoulders, your neck, your arms.

I really thought no one besides a doctor, a massage therapist or my future husband would be touching me in those places. And I certainly wasn't expecting it to be in public.

I'm so glad I took my Blistex out of my waistband.

Arriving in Detroit and seeing my baby (sibling) at the airport.

Having a cold Diet Pepsi waiting for me in the car. (I still love Diet Pepsi. Why can't we get it in Israel!?! That Pepsi Max stuph is crap.)

And that was it for the travels.

We ordered Jerusalem pizza for dinner, and sat around the table for a bit. I distributed chocolate and stuff, played online for a few minutes and went to bed.

And now I'm going to flip through my sister's dvd's to see which ones I would most want if either I had the money or I were going to, um, copy any.

I'm such a rebel.

Post-spider...

Because I know ya'll were wondering...

It took me something like three hours and a long IM conversation to muster up the courage to deal with that monster. (I know, it's still one of G-d's creatures... but as I said yesterday... when G-d's creatures are that big, they belong in the wild.)

I finally moved the box and stuff away, and tried to figure out what I could photograph next to the spider in order to make sure it was relatively universally understood how I really believed that thing could have killed me.

So for my work buddies (although I guess it's out in the open now where I work... ), I put it next to my ID badge. And for everyone else on the planet, I put it next to an American dollar I had.

Then it was a huge debate as to what to do with it...

The friend I was IMing with kept trying to convince me I should just flush it down the toilet. I kept saying that it might clog up the toilet... or it might not really be 100000% dead, and it might come back up and bite me... whatever.

(In his defense, it was before he saw pictures...)

Then, when I tried to just use a box flap and a stick to get it into a box, I realized the thing was squishy... and I couldn't handle it.

So I finally took one of my co-worker's advice: I put a piece of paper (towel) on it, and then used something to nudge it into the box. That way, I didn't have to look at it.

And amazingly, it went in peacefully.

I folded the box flaps and held the box at arm's length and took it to the dumpster.

Bleeeeeeeeeccchhhhh!

Then it was time for bed... so... I didn't turn the heater on in my room ('cause it was near the heater yesterday). I also left my bed lamp on for the first half of the night. Because I knew I was going to have to get up to potty in the middle of the night, and I wasn't going to be able to do that in the dark.

When I did get up, I had had one bad spider dream... not horrible, so that's good.

When I went back to sleep, I turned the light off... and then had only one more bad bug dream.

I think that's pretty good, considering.

Arachnophobia sucks

From The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

·rach·no·pho-bi·a (-rkn-fb-, -n-)

n. An abnormal fear of spiders.

I'm not sure my fear is, in fact, irrational. I mean, if you were bitten on the eye by a spider when you were two years old, and both your eyes swelled shut -- wouldn't you be afraid of them?

Sure seems rational to me.

Now, if there's a word to describe an irrational reaction to seeing a spider, that would fit me better. (Or even a picture of a spider.)

And what is all this leading to, you might ask?

It could be leading to the giant freaking spider that casually sat outside my bathroom door this morning, waiting for me to turn the light on and see it and go into a major panic attack in which I couldn't breathe properly, had to leave the room, tried to figure out if there was anyone I could call who could either a) come take care of that nasty, horrible thing or b) talk me down enough to be able to handle it.

Thank G-d, (really, Big Guy, I appreciate it) I had a can of cockroach spray here. K300, the weapon of roach haters in Israel.

And I actually HATE to kill bugs (except for mosquitos, which are evil). Really. I usually feel like "they haven't done anything to me, so live and let live." They're part of the food chain that G-d created, and just 'cause I'm bigger than they are doesn't mean I need to stomp them.

But the cool thing about K300 is that once you spray it, say, under the sink, no more roaches want to set up house under there for a while.

Okay, so I don't know what the long-lasting effects will be on me, as a human, but whatever. I'm sure not letting the roaches take over.

Anyway, back to the horrible, horrible, horrible spider...

Now, it's true that I have small hands. But even so, any spider whose leg span would be bigger than the palm of my hand should not be allowed in cities. It belongs out in the wild, with the rest of the wild creatures.

And this dude... this dude (dudette?) definitely exceeded size limitations for my small apartment.

Its body is at least the length of my thumb, and at least two-thirds as wide. And it has this pointy tush. That's weird.

The legs are at least two inches long. Or they would be, if they weren't curled up in death.

And really, I was sorry to have to kill it.

I really thought about whether or not I'd be able to trap it and just set it free. I did. I swear.

But who's to say it wouldn't accidentally get out and crawl up my arm and bite me?

Or decide it actually likes my cute little apartment enough to find its way back?

So death was the only option.

And approximately 1/4 can of K300 later, (it wouldn't die -- I can't help that), it crawled behind a box and curled up.

Later, after work, I'm hoping to take a picture of it and post it here, just so ya'll know I'm not exaggerating. Of course, if I do that... I won't be able to look at my own blog... but I don't have to anyway, so it's okay.

And if you think I'm exaggerating about not being able to see a picture... I'll tell you a quick story about that:

When my sister was in the U.S.Navy, she sent me postcards. One day, I got a postcard and without seeing the picture, I read the back. I don't remember what it said, exactly, but it did say something about how evil little sisters can be.

Then I flipped it over.

(Remember, it was a POSTCARD.)

There was a picture of a tarantula on it.

I dropped the postcard and screeched.

Then I realized what an idiot I looked like, standing on my porch, backing away from a postcard.

So yeah, I have an irrational reaction to spiders in all forms. Blech.

Okay... I'm going to have to walk past the spider and get ready for work...

And maybe by the time I get to work, I'll be able to stop shivering and shaking.

P.S. - I went to start getting ready, and the spider's legs had stretched out again. I thought it was still alive! So I got the good ol' can of K300 and gave it another dose. Since it didn't move, I'm really hoping it's actually dead.

P.S.2. - As promised, here are the pictures...

The first day

Way back when I was first learning Hebrew, my teacher explained that the days were named by counting toward Shabbat. So since Saturday is Shabbat, Sunday is then "yom rishon," which means "the first day."

We go on to count "the second day," "the third day," etc., until we get to the seventh day which is usually just said as "Shabbat," although sometimes it's "yom Shabbat."

I work from Sunday-Thursday. Today is Sunday. So I have to make it through five of these counting days before my next day off.

The fifth day seems so far away from the first day... and counting that way just seems a bit too "in your face" for me today. I so don't want to go to work.

Bah. At least I can say I have only seven work days until I leave for a week.

Other events:

-The riots ended when the GLBTQ community decided they'd settle on a rally instead of a parade. The rally was held in a uni stadium with more than 2,000 police officers doing the security.

-I was supposed to go south for Shabbat. On Friday morning, however, I found out that pretty much the whole family is sick... so I decided to stay home and try to stay healthy.

-The U.S. had to save Israel's butt in the U.N. when an unfair resolution was put forward trying to keep us from defending ourselves against random attacks. Oh wait, that's not news.

The smell of burning on an autumn morning

In Michigan, this is about the most perfect time of year. From the middle of October to the middle of November, the mornings are crisp and the air somehow feels clean. My favorites are the days when I can smell burning leaves, because somehow that makes it truly autumn.

In Jerusalem this morning, the weather feels just like a Michigan morning. The sun's shining. There's a very light breeze. The air just feels "right."

And there's even a smell of burning. But that... that just feels wrong.

Because we don't have so many trees here that drop their leaves. People don't rake the leaves from their yards and pile them up. There's not supposed to be that smell.

Instead, it's the haredi (ultra-Orthodox) people rioting in their neighborhoods to oppose the gay pride parade that's supposed to take place at the end of this week.

Now, to be perfectly honest, I have very mixed feelings about the parade being held in Jerusalem. It's not like it's just Jerusalemites or even Israelis who are putting this parade together. It's people coming from outside Israel for this.

Why?

I can't help but believe it is because Jerusalem is the center of three of the world's major religions, and it's an "in your face" kind of thing.

And "in your face" isn't necesarily bad, except when Jerusalem is in the world news enough, thankyouverymuch, and the last thing we need is more bad press. Especially when the press is because a bunch of people from outside Israel insist on being the cause of it.

On the other hand, Israel is a semi-democratic country, and we believe in the idea of freedom of speech, if not the actual practice. So why shouldn't there be a parade?

On the other hand, the mere idea of a gay pride parade in any of our neighboring countries would be cause for more than mere riots. So why should Israel get bad press whe no one's going to say anything about the other countries?

I don't have enough hands for this debate.

So I believe that the parade should be held, but at this point it's more to prove that the city shouldn't take orders from the haredim than it is the whole freedom of expression thing.

The things that upset me the most about this situation include:

The police are complaining about having to bring in reinforcements from outside Jerusalem to try to protect the participants in the parade. They're saying that it's going to make the rest of the country more vulnerable, since it'll be under-protected. So why weren't they talking about that last year when they were involved in evicting thousands of people from their homes? They knew this parade was coming -- why not activate people for this situation like they did for that one?

The rioting is disgusting. They're throwing stones and dirty diapers and other objects at police officers. They're setting the dumpsters on fire and blocking the roads. This is not, nor has it been, a peaceful protest. They've simply decided that they're right, and they're willing to hurt whomever they need to in order to prove it.

The rioters obviously care more about this parade than they do problems that face their day-to-day society. There are families without enough food. There are women who are unable to re-marry because their husbands refuse to grant them a divorce. There are abused women and children. There are drug addicts among them. And they're not protesting on the streets about any of that.

They don't pay taxes. Now that's a blanket statement, and probably somewhat unfair... but it's true that many, if not most, value learning in yeshiva more than they value working at paid jobs, so a huge percentage of them don't pay taxes at all. Some of the rioters don't even believe that the State of Israel should exist, since only the moshiach (messiah) can bring about a true Jewish country. Yet they don't have a problem taking advantage of the protections afforded them by the State.

It makes religious Jews look bad. Because while it's true that maybe even a majority of religious Jews are not in favor of holding this parade in Jerusalem, they've protested in other ways, like writing letters and holding demonstrations. They haven't behave like two-year-olds throwing temper tantrums. Yet when secular people look at the riots, all they see is that "religious" people are causing problems. They don't see the difference between rioters and other religious people.

And it took me 45 minutes to get to work today, because the rioters have forced the police to close streets, and my bus had to take a huge detour.

So yeah, I'm ticked off. I say, parade on!