Merkaz Ba'alei Melaha

I began 2012 by moving into an apartment in Tel Aviv.

I was paying an outrageous sum to live in the dorms at Tel Aviv University, and the campus is north of the city- not far by any means, but the location presented certain problems in the way of accessing and truly experiencing the city. Also, it may go without saying, but after having lived on my own in Boston for six years, moving into a dorm-situation was not ideal. I was happy to have a soft place to land upon moving overseas, but it was time to grow up and move out.

My semi-adult life has included several moves. This was by far the easiest. I think it may be because I got to Israel with all of my worldly possessions in two (skillfully packed) suitcases. Granted, I did not get everything back into those two suitcases- but it really only took a couple of trips on the bus... 

(I spent a few days as that girl on a crowded bus shlepping cumbersome luggage, and I think my fellow bus patrons really appreciated it).

I moved into an apartment right in the center of Tel Aviv with my friend from school, Nicole. It took a couple weeks of stressful searching to find, but we finally went through a broker recommended by a couple of friends, and found a place in a great location that suits us just fine. Our street, Merkaz Ba'alei Melaha, is quiet and pleasant, but steps from everything we could possibly need. We've already made friends with the owner of our favorite cafe- his name is Roni, and he offered me a job the other day.  We'll see.

The broker, Shay, was very cool, and happens to also be our new neighbor! He's the guy we call when we need help figuring out how to turn on the dud shemesh (yes, the hot water tank is called the "dood") or when our shower door shatters into a thousand little glass shards all over Nicole (yes, that happened). 

Nicole was standing IN the shower when this went down. 

"Shay! Help!"

There are a couple of distinct differences between American and Israeli life that I observed during my apartment search, and I'd like to share them with you here:

1. People take appliances with them. 

When an apartment here is listed as "unfurnished" it literally comes with nothing in it. Shay gave us a fridge, thank heavens. The guy who moved out left us a microwave. But if we want to cook anything that can't be nuked, we're gonna have to buy a hot-plate. Can you imagine moving into an apartment in a major Americcan city without it at least having basic appliances?? 

2. Everything is negotiable. 

Leah, my landlord, gave us 100 shekel off of the advertised price after she met me- because she liked me. I was fine with this, but a little confused because other than complimenting her boots and asking about her family we could hardly communicate (her English is about on par with my Hebrew). Maybe it was because my hair looked so nice that day. 

3. Apartments here are owned by individuals rather than management companies.

Now, I'm sure that not ALL apartment buildings in the US are managed by companies, but that has been my experience, or at the very least one person owns a whole building and is in the real-estate business. My landlord here owns only the apartment I live in. Each apartment in the building is owned by different people, and they pass the property down through generations. Leah doesn't live in Tel Aviv, and does not want to be bothered with problems. When I called her about the shower she simply said "replace it and I'll pay you back." Ugh. 

So, Nicole and I have been here for a little over a week. We still have no furniture except our beds and a few chairs that Shay also donated (I think he feels bad for us). We'll get furniture in February, when the rest of our loans come in. We spent our first Shabbat in our new home assembling Nicole's Ikea furniture, and breaking bread with one of our first friends- Jared. Perfect. 

I'm certain that we will make many more memories together here, and it will be the perfect base of operations for us as we continue to stretch our wings and explore what Tel Aviv has to offer us. 

Living in an apartment here makes me feel like I'm really doing this. I have a lease. I have a neighborhood. And slowly, slowly...a little piece of Tel Aviv will become mine- and inevitably become a part of who I am.

If you're ever in town, come on over for a visit! 

We only have one extra chair, but it's yours.

I missed my first day of grad school. Oops.

So on Sunday night I felt like I was coming down with a cold. You know what the first day is like, right? Your throat is a little scratchy, so you get some decongestant (in anticipation), lozenges, OJ, and soup, and wait for it to move from your throat to your head...

The thing about being sick is, I can deal with a cold. As a nanny, I got used to having a cold for pretty much seven months a year. What I cannot handle (without becoming a whiny, crying, little girl who wants her mom) is a sore throat. I can't sleep, I can't talk. It's the worst!

By Monday night I realized this thing wasn't moving. It had taken up residence in my tonsils and become a raging case of strep throat. Last spring the same thing happened and I ended up in the ER- it was all I could think about. My health insurance here has the feature of house calls 24/7. Now, Tuesday was my first official day of classes, and at 3am on Monday night I realized if I didn't get a prescription soon I was gonna end up waiting in a clinic ALL day on Tuesday and missing class. So I called for a house call, and at 4am Dr. Rubin (who didn't speak much English and was wearing open-toed sandals) was in my room writing a script for antibiotics and telling me (charade-style...language barrier) not to kiss anyone. Thanks, Dr. Rubin.

I waited for the pharmacy to open at 8am, but by that time I was having trouble breathing. So I called the insurance hotline again and was told to just go to the ER. The doctor on the phone told me my script wasn't strong enough anyway, and I needed a steroid shot for the swelling in my tonsils. So I went. It was terrible- the doctor wanted to admit me cause he couldn't understand what I was telling him (again, no English) and the insurance company tried to claim I didn't have a referral and would have to pay $700 in the ER fees (after I had already been treated). And I ended up missing class anyway.

FAIL.

The point of this long story is that by the time I made it home from the hospital I was in NO shape to go to class. I was so traumatized and exhausted and sick. I was really upset about missing my first day- it was most definitely not the way I envisioned beginning my grad school experience. But, I was proud of myself. I relayed all of this to Sasha and Ellen the other day and they said basically "every American in Israel has to go through something like that," which was oddly comforting- believe it or not. I knew what I needed, it was a pain the in ass to get, but I did it on my own. And now I'm feeling much better- and a little more capable.

I'm also fortunate to have some friends in the emergency management program here- always nice to have your own personal medical professionals on hand.

They didn't actually make me well again, but the emotional support was there. Aren't the matching scrubs just so cute?

Seriously though, Nikki and Jared helped me feel better by having a pajama party and watching Heavyweights. Joel was there, too, but didn't have pajamas so I didn't take a picture of him...here's one from another night so you can have a visual (I'm seriously obsessed with this kid):

I put the camera away eventually cause things got weird after this:

By 'weird' I mean that the security guards came into my room, saw a pile of people on my bed, and said we were being too loud. We weren't drinking (antibiotics...). It was 11:15pm. We are just so awesome and hilarious that campus security had to break it up.

A few months ago I was living in a beautiful apartment in Boston, and now I live in a dorm and get yelled at for being silly at 11pm on a weekend. This really is freshman year of college- round two (complete with dance parties!)...

it's great
(minus the strep, I suppose).

This week I begin my language course (finally) and will finally get to experience a disease-free, normal schedule. I'm excited about the classes I'm taking so far- on Thursday I had "Political Economy" and another called "Propaganda". It really does make studying easier when you're genuinely interested in the subject matter, but I can already tell this is going to be an intense semester. I'm looking forward to every moment (remind me of this when I post about the pain of exams and papers...).

Oh, one more story. On Thursday I got a text from the school saying "At 10am a siren will be heard in the Ramat Aviv area as part of a military exercise. Do not panic." I was told that if the siren lasted longer than 180 seconds I should just go to the bomb shelter. I need to remember to stock food stuffs and booze down there...