(Danielle wrote that. She absconded with my iPad while I was buying tea. )
It has been hard, this week, to sit down and write. My mind, my life, and my schedule have been a little confuddled. I think I've been eating too many cookies. In Israel there are cookies EVERYWHERE. Everyplace you go there is a cookie jar and I am realizing that I have no self control. I decided to set myself a daily limit of 4 cookies. 1 in the morning with my coffee, 1 during each break in class and 1 after class. Yesterday, I ate four cookies with my coffee alone. I ate a total of 8 cookies. Oops. I will try again on Sunday.
Sarah has whooping cough. Poor roommate. Justin gave her the nickname "Coughee" because she coughs so much. I thought that was clever.
South Africans use the word "hectic", on average, 3 times a minute. To a South African, hectic can mean something negative or positive and the only way to know is to listen to the context in which the word is being used and then guess.
Here are some recent examples:
"Man, class is getting hectic."
"That song was so hectic."
"These beans are good but the salad was a little hectic."
That was Just a quick note on South Africans...very nice people...kind of hectic.
But for real...
I have a fish scale splinter in my finger. I don't know if you have ever had the opportunity to feel something like this. Take note, FISH ARE DANGEROUS...and not to be messed with. This fish scale is hurting my finger a surprising amount considering that it is just a fish scale. I just wrote the words fish scale too many times...I'm think Im trying to emphasize the torture.
So let's talk about fish more because I love them. I have had to do a lot of injecting lately. When you inject fish, you have a lot of time to think and reflect on the little creatures you are stabbing with a needle. You experience a wide range of emotions. You have to inject the antibiotics under the back fin on the underbelly of the fish. When you do this, the fish raises its fins in the air as if cheering for you. I can almost pretend that they are enjoying themselves. Fortunately, the antibiotics are good for them and keep them strong and healthy. Also, fish only have a 3-5 second memory so they soon forget the pain. Also, we use clove oil to help them relax so they don't hurt themselves by flopping around. In reality, they don't have it so bad.
I finally got a chance to talk to my dear mama last night. I hadn't talked to her in 3 weeks. She called me and my heart leapt. I thought my heart was going to come out of my mouth. I have never missed someone so much. Her call was perfect because yesterday was יום המשפחה (family day) in Israel. It was the best gift. I didn't get to talk to dad, though, because he had just gotten back from California and he has a ganglionic cyst (which mom called his "special pet"). I miss you, pops. Your back pain is stupid.
Last Friday my friend, Alex, and her kibbutznik boyfriend, Adi, took me to Haifa. We went to a wind surfing competition. I am pretty sure that the competition was happening in a hurricane. From the sidelines it was impossible to see the windsurfers through the horizontal deluge. It was great and I got a chance to meet a lot of Israelis. Adi and his friends surf here at the beach on Ma'agan Michael. On cloudy days the waves can get really ominous. The other day, the front half of Adi's board broke in a storm. I told him to tell people it was a shark. Apparently, There are no sharks in israel.
Purim is fast approaching and it is in the air. Purim prep has already started. The theme for Purim 2012 on Ma'agan Michael is 'cowboys and Indians'. Every night we help the kibbutzniks paint purim decorations. I painted a cowboy hat with stars on it. Everybody is talking about their costumes and I even bought a cheap cowboy hat at the shuk in Jaffa.
Speaking of Jaffa...we went on our first טיול (trip) this week. We went to Rehovot to the Ayalon Institute where Ma'agan Michael began. An intersting fact about Ma'agan Michael is that it was begun by the haganah as an underground ammunitions plant. Bullets were made at the original kibbutz in Rehovot, 20 feet below the kibbutz, by the kibbutzniks in secret preparation for the Israeli war of independence in 1948. It was fascinating. My friend, Noam, is the granddaughter of one of the original kibbutzniks who worked underground making the bullets. Her grandmother is really sharp. I like listening to her stories.
After rehovot, we went to Old Jaffa. Old Jaffa is 4000 years old. It is the alleged home of both andromeda and Cassiopeia. While walking through the allies of Old Jaffa you get to see and touch the wear and tear of time. There is something humbling about walking on steps that people have been walking on for millennia. It puts life into perspective. We ate some deeeelicious falafel and then visited the shuk pishpishim (flea market).
I have to go prepare for Shabbat. We are dressing up for dinner to welcome the sabbath queen...and also to feel lovely. Before I go, I want to make a shout out to my homie Michael Rice who is going to be married next weekend! Mike, I am going to be celebrating over here in your honor and I have been thinking about you and Soma a lot. I am going to miss the elephants, and the Indians, and the curry...and your face.
With undying love for walking to the beach at 3am, Bambas, multicolored cotton balls, gato, and Yom sheeshee sushi,
I humbly remain,
J. Michael Hess Webber
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