Magic Jewball

Hey, I’m home! No, not in NY, silly. In Jerusalem. That is, I’m in my family’s apartment in the Katamon section at the end of a narrow little cul-de-sac that the sherut drivers can never negotiate. A sherut is kind of like a shared taxi, a bit like Super Shuttle, and so I got in at like 5am as I was close to the last one dropped off. But it’s fun to abandon hotel living and give an address authoritatively, like “this street off of this street, no not there, od, od, po” (further, further, here). Yes, I did not get lost today.

However, other problems exist such as finding the grocery store closed at 2pm because tonight is a Jewish holiday. Somehow that never happens at the A&P. “Sagur!” the guy yelled at me through the closed sliding doors. Closed! Well, happy holiday to you too. I had to go to the bodega which is called a makolet here and they didn’t have my favorite brand of hummus to go with my fresh bakery pita and no large size of mint lemonade. D’oh! I was so dismayed I almost gave the storekeeper a 2-euro coin instead of the 10-shekel one. Must sort out my wallet.

Tomorrow the holiday goes on and then it’s another half day in Jerusalem before taking the bus to my cousins in Hashmonaim which is helpfully midway between here and the airport in Tel Aviv. Did I mention my flight was at 6am? What a perfect time for a Kosher Big Mac at the airport Mickey D’s. Then just a billion hours later I’ll be back in my own bed. Unless that thrombosis thing you get on long-haul airplane flights kills me first.