Traveling to Tel Aviv

After just under 24 hours of travel (and absolutely no sleep), I finally made it to Israel! My flight to JFK was excellent; since nobody was sitting next to me I had plenty of leg-room. I only felt slightly disgruntled that the grumpy old lady sitting one spot away wasn't up for any conversation, and when she finally did choose to talk it was to request that I carry her luggage off the plane. Oh, well!

At JFK, the flight started boarding an hour prior to takeoff. This was to allow time for the attendants to check our passports twice and put us through an additional security screening. Despite a passenger uprising over the forced disposal of newly purchased bottled water and the controversy centering on a handicapped man who refused to remove his tennis shoes (not to mention, the concern over a pigeon who had gotten into the terminal and past security without going through the metal detector) Delta flight 86 left for Tel Aviv on-time, promptly at 9:00pm.

For the first hour of the flight, I talked with the woman sitting next to me about her life story, a story which involved an escape from the Soviet Union and multiple trips to Las Vegas! Although the conversation was enticing, especially compared to the lack of discourse from my grumpy old friend on the previous flight, after 45 minutes my neck was aching from sitting straight and looking sideways, all the while nodding politely. After dinner (green beans, chicken, salad, bread, and a brownie—an entirely Kosher meal as emphasized by the airplane staff) I decided to pretend to sleep so my neck could heal and my ears could be given a rest. Luckily, my flight buddy took a Tylenol PM and was out for the rest of the flight. In between closing my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep and watching Fool's Gold and part of P.S. I Love You as the on-board entertainment, I read some delicious articles from Bon Appetit magazine and am eager to try out some recipes for chocolate bread pudding, cinnamon rolls, and lemon meringue floating islands. Mmmm….
As soon as I arrived in Israel, I was a bit taken aback by all the advertisements written explicitly in Hebrew and Arabic. Seeing jumbled characters which I can't pronounce, let alone comprehend, is a little disarming. After collecting my bags, I passed through customs without having to declare anything, and went out the gate. I spotted Rony, my faculty advisor, immediately (Thank God!) and the two of us went over to the ATM so I could get some Israeli currency. Fortunately, Israeli bills are smaller than US ones, so they fit well in my wallet. Unfortunately, I still have no idea what the bills mean and am even more confused about the coins.

Having gotten money from the ATM, Rony took me to the Weizmann Institute international graduate student housing—the Clore House. The drive was no more than 30 minutes and was accompanied by warm weather (just as hot as Phoenix but no hotter) and views from the car window of grain fields and white, block-like apartment buildings.

My dorm buidling from the outside

Once I introduced myself to my neighbor (who I'll be sharing a kitchen and bathroom with and whose name I'll never be able to pronounce let alone write), I settled into my bedroom. The room was hot, has two beds (not sure if I'll have a roommate), and faces a very noisy street. It'll do.

Before going over to Rony's apartment (a two-minute walk from my dorm), I went down to check in with the residence hall office. The door was locked, so I tried knocking. No one answered. I tried the doorbell….. Oops. Turns out that the "doorbell" wasn't actually a doorbell but was a mezuzah, a little box containing scripture that is posted on all the door posts here. Don't think I'll be telling that mistake to anyone over here. Must check back with the office in the morning.

Inside my dorm room

After sending a quick e-mail home and declining an offer for dinner from Rony, I went to the convenience store across the street and bought some water and pretzels (the only "safe" food I recognized since nothing was written in English), as well as some body wash and shampoo. (I chose to get Axe brand bodywash because I recognized it, though I didn't recognize any of the scents they were selling. All of the flavors were very odd. The one that I ended up getting which had the least noxious smell was called "Africa." Am not sure whether I offended or confused the cashier by getting African body wash. Hmmmm….)

Back in my home away from home, I climbed into bed at 6:30pm and fell asleep to noisy brakes and honking cars. The Israseli's seem to be even crazier drivers than those in Arizona.