Hey friends~
Happy Anniversary to me – today, the 27th, marks one month in Israel!
You know, I didn’t leave Jerusalem even once this week (oh, I’ll make up for that) due to the ardor of apartment hunting, but Baruch Hashem (Thank G-d!), I finally found a place! Woo hooo! And it’s enormous! And it’s in Rechavia – my favorite! And it’s got a meerpeset (balcony)! And trees all around! And oodles of light! And as-long-as-the-roommates-I-haven’t-met-yet-because-they’re-out-of-the-country-don’t-turn-out-to-be-freaks-or-koo koos, it should be totally waaaaaaallllla (sababa).
So picture me traipsing back and forth, forth and back, all over the city of Jerusalem, map in hand, glistening brow, hopeful and stressed, and there you have the backdrop of this past week. Though I feared the apartment hunt would ruin my mood and week, as it threatened to several times, the magic of Israel still found me.
Like on Tuesday night when I found myself in the presence of true inspiration: Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis, holocaust survivor, best-selling author, speaker, founder of ” title=”I took this video that night!” target=”_blank”>See a bit
Afterwards, I approached her and she gave me such a hug – like I was her long-lost daughter. “You’re beautiful,” she said warmly, looking into my eyes. And without my asking, she held onto me tightly and whispered a blessing in my ear.
Now, I wish I’d asked her if she knew Magda Ehrlich, my grandmother, also of Hungarian descent who was in Bergen Belsen during the war. But I didn’t. The rebbetzin’s reputation preceded her, her books lined my shelves in LA, and the question completely escaped me in the moment. But, imagine! If the rebbetzin remembered my grandmother, we’d be yet another miracle story! But the truth is, we’re both miracles anyway and our meeting another triumph of goodness.
Yossi was another sweet connection that came out of the apartment balagan (mess). See, here in Emek Refaim, I live on a street called David El Royi which is nestled behind another street called Hatzefira. At the intersection of these two lies a school, and Yossi guards the entrance to the school. Now, truth be told, Yossi is an older gentleman – hardly the intimating bouncer type I remember from the nightlife of New York.
The first week I was here, I passed the school each day like a stranger. Yossi didn’t seem too friendly. Quite the opposite – he seemed like he might be a grouch.
After a week of living here, I got a “Boker tov” (good morning) and a small smile from Yossi.
Hmmm? Never one to refuse a boker tov, I replied “Boker or!” (good light!)
Soon, this was our morning routine.
After a few days of this, our simple greetings turned into morning kibitzing (chatting). I told him I was in ulpan and over time, he told me about his 5 kids and their families. Oooh, he glowed talking about them!
In the last 2 weeks, I’ve begun chatting with Yossi both in the morning and in the afternoon – whenever I pass the school. One afternoon this week, I told him about my apartment situation as the frustration of it all was painted on my face.
“Why do you need to move?” he asked.
I told him that the guy I’m leasing from has surprised me with inconsiderate nonsense ever since I arrived, so I have to leave or else get stuck with random strangers and unnecessary headaches all summer long.
“Chaval (it’s a shame),” said Yossi. And he’s right – my street oozes with charm! Children play, flowers blossom, a playground is forever full of kids – sounds and images of family abound!
Yossi immediately began looking for solutions to help me. “ You want to live with my daughter?” he asked. “I will find out if she needs a roommate….Or,” he offered. “Why don’t you just stay here, and if these people give you any problems, you call me at any hour and I will take care of it. You’ll take my cell phone and you’ll use it. I am your Abba (dad) here.” He had a very serious expression on his face when he said this – I could tell he meant it. Funny too, because my real Daddums’ name is Joseph, or Yoseph in Hebrew, or Yossi for short.
“Thanks, Yossi,” I said. A satisfied grin spread across Yossi’s face, dozens of beautiful laugh lines appearing around his smile and eyes. He gave my forearm a small squeeze.
Classic Israeli warmth, right? That gruff exterior is such caa caa.
Sending big love from Israel!
