Even Yehuda

I’m waiting on the 930 Egged bus (26 NIS) to Jerusalem about to make my way to Hebrew University. What nerves tremor over my body! Maybe that’s just the bus idling. At any rate, I have to switch my standard of living back to where it belongs – that of a poor college student – as I leave the warmth, delicious food, and friendship of the Dashevsky family. I felt like a part of someone’s family for an entire weekend, but now comes the hard part, getting ready for my big move to Jerusalem where I will be studying Hebrew for the next two months.

I was literally in heaven. Edna Dashevsky became like a mother to me, after bonding while shopping for plants and trinkets at various markets around Even Yehuda. Yoel Dashevsky and I bonded over food. Hot sauce to be precise. I even watched Dancing with the Stars (Israel style) with them, and felt right at home. I had free reign to sit in the front garden, writing, blogging, and eating quiche, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, grapes, and figs. I felt like I was at a 5-star hotel. It was just as well, though, the kind of hospitality I felt at my friend Itai Dashevsky’s house could rival that of any Plaza Hotel.

I met Itai two years ago while working as a second grade teacher in Guatemala. He and his friend Din had just finished their army service as Lieutenants in the IDF and were traveling through Central America for a few months. After service, the Israeli government gives soldiers a stipend of money with which they can travel all over the world. Itai was kind enough to offer his home to me until it was time for me to move to Jerusalem.

He was kind enough to show me around the Netanya area, taking me to a party in a beautiful garden in the middle of nowhere, which his friend Shahar organized. We also ventured to Herziliya’s marina area where pedestrians walk and eat ice cream or just sit outside and enjoy beer or wine. There is wonderful restaurant nearby where Hila, Din’s girlfriend works, where you can enjoy a great meal of sushi or other seafood while lounging on white couches on a patio overlooking the ocean. It’s a great feeling.

I can only hope one day to return the favor of hospitality to Itai and his family if ever they come to the States. I know I owe them that much.

I love how eclectic the culture is here. Kippas, no kippas, blondes, Africans, Russians, Americans. Israel’s identity is a bit schizophrenic, and I think I’m beginning to like it. At times, your average Israeli’s sense of humor can be a bit biting, painful to hear, cutting to your soul, but for the most part you learn to take nothing seriously. You may think that they find you stupid or incapable, but in reality, they probably really like you and respect you. Just learn to give them back what they give you.

I’d like to have lunch with Edna sometime when she’s working in Jerusalem to learn more about the different programs that she’s launched at the Ministry of Education. She was very proud of the program she’s involved with, teaching counselors how to deal with children with post-traumatic stress disorder. Most of these kids are from places like Sderot, which experience regular rocket fire from Gaza. The counselors give these children a stuffed animal and teach the children how to care for it. In a way it displaces their fear of their own safety and wellbeing, and helps them to have a feeling of control. Edna feels it has been very effective at reducing the tension children experience in such situations.