Internet Connection at the Kibbutz is Still Difficult

We're saying good-bye to Tel Aviv where the kids and I have spent weeks 1,2, and 4. We've had a great time at the beach and the pool as well as seeing a bit of the city: Joppa, playgrounds, architecture, and the Eretz Israel Museum, a fantastic campus of exhibits including outdoor trails, hands-on historical recreations, and great indoor museums...kind of like Jamestown.

We've had terrific food from Argentinian pizza to schnitzel and falafel, and splendid accomodations, thanks to our very generous and hospitable hosts. Along the way, I'm pretty sure we've entertained a few folks as well. Four kids is an unusual sight in any city, whether it's New York, Lima, or Tel Aviv. And with all our chattering in English and antics, we've drawn plenty of stares ("Get up, go, go, this is our stop! Everyone off the bus--now!") As much as the kids miss their cousins and friends, I have to say they've been great companions for each other, sometimes completely losing themselves in their own world, whether it's hide and seek, building sand castles, this-jungle-gym-is-a-pirate-ship, or I'm-driving-this-"taxi"-and-you're-hijacking/fleeing-robbers. I have been able to do some reading and thinking in the meantime.

Week 3 in Haifa was lovely. We saw the splendid Bahai terraced gardens, where I turned the camera over to the girls. We went to the zoo--forgot to bring the camera--and the Museum of Japanese Art--CF card was full and battery low. Sorry. Elijah's cave, impromptu hiking, and the Maritime Museum were also covered. Here we learned how to take the city bus, an important skill we tried out when we returned to Tel Aviv.

We've learned a few things about ourselves and others. For starters, I don't really care for the public beach--everyone running around in their underwear gets old day after day. Also, until this morning, the boys thought that the kibbutz was the "Kibbuts'," someone else's house that we were going to visit, like the Longs' or the Browns'. We've met plenty of friendly, helpful people, seen more than a few loud, public arguments or scoldings, been scolded ourselves by artists and craftsmen who don't want us to watch them work or handle their work even though it's for sale and they're exibiting at a craft show, and been told by cab drivers that the address we're requesting is not an actual residence or not where we live.

One driver stuffed the five of us into the back seat and took another passenger in the front and then proceeded to insist that the address and name of the building I requested were not the same place. Which did I want--the address or the named building? I argued a little, since I had already lived at the address and building for two weeks, then settled on the building name when I realized he wasn't going to listen to me. I thought I got him back by paying him the grossly overcharged fare of $10 entirely in coins (over 30 of them--all that I had), but then realized that he got the last word by dropping me off at the mall entrance to my building, refusing to understand that with a large suitcase and four kids with backpacks, I was not headed shopping, but instead wanted the residential entrance to the apartments on the other side of the building.

Well, we'll be at the kibbutz with Charlie for a couple of days this week, joining his class field trip to Galilee for three days and two nights. That's week 5. Week 6 we'll be staying in an apartment in Jerusalem while Charlie has his last week of classes. Then week 7, we'll sightsee together before returning to the States. Sounds like a plan. Or something!