If I forget thee, O Jerusalem

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem...
It's because of Tel Aviv.

Psalm 137:5 - If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning - אם אשכחך ירושלים, תשכח ימיני.

My friend Ronnie had problems with his right arm for a long time, and he said it was because he hadn't visited the Old City in a while so it was really his own fault. 

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem...

If you've read this blog before, you may well be aware that this is my fifth and final year in Jerusalem, due to the restrictions placed on foreign workers in terms of visa length. The good news is that I have managed to find alternative employment in Havana, Cuba (!) of which more in another blog. The bad news is that I have to leave this maddening, wonderful country that has been my home for the past four and a half years. Until recently this did not feel real, but somehow and all of a sudden it has hit me that I'm leaving, that I have to pack up the things in my apartment and ship them to another country, that I will no longer be able to get hummus at midnight or enjoy the changing seasons in the shuk. I've started to think of the things here that I love, that make me smile, that frustrate me, that make me want to throw things. So here, in no particular order, is a long list of the things that I will miss, and some of the things that I won't, and some of the things that I love, and some that I don't.

- fresh pomegranate juice.

- jasmine and wisteria and some random plant smell that I can't identify. All summer long. Everywhere.
- loud, shouty American teenagers on birthright tours clagging up Ben Yehuda.

- the rose garden at the Anglican.

- free wifi EVERYWHERE.

- the smell of meat on the grill from the picnics of Arab families in Liberty Bell park or by the beach in Jaffa on Saturday afternoons. They grill so much better than anyone else.

- the stretch of Road 90 that runs north from the Sea of Galilee up through the Hula Valley to Qiryat Shmona. It's so beautiful. One time I was driving north with friends to go camping at Hurshat Tal and Yair, who was doing directions, fell asleep (he likes to fall asleep at inconvenient times). We therefore totally missed the turning and ended up driving way too far, up the hill that lead into Lebanon and into Metudela, which is basically as far north as you can go in Israel, then having to turn around and drive back down. The sun was setting over the valley. It was perfect.

- Israeli men.

- the shuk in the spring, when it's fresh garlic season and it smells amazing and there are ropes of fresh garlic hanging from every available hook or table or hanging-thing.

- Hanukkah in Nachlaot. All the lights. People out in the alleys singing hanukkah songs, lighting the candles on the hanukkiyot, just hanging out. Love it.

- my wonderful balcony, for which I pay exorbitant amounts of rent, every penny (shekel) totally worth it.

- the beach. For preference, one of the beaches in the northern bit of Tel Aviv, or Beit Yannai. Israelis are awesome beach-goers. They have every bit of kit imaginable, they bring proper lunches (no measly sandwiches), they camp, they hang out their swimming costumes on impromptu clothes-lines, they play matkot (bat-and-ball game, maddeningly noisy but lots of fun), they bring stereos and nargileh and barbecues. It makes chilly days on the beach in Devon feel massively inadequate.

- the food. Oh, the food. Hummus, musabaha, tabbouleh, fresh salads with every vegetable known to man, fresh fruit, strawberries four times a year, pomegranates from September to February, shawarma (from the West Bank, for preference), fresh falafel from the Old City, baklava, pickled lemons (limon cavush - I love saying it), amazing yeasted cakes, hanukkah doughnuts called soufganiyot so dripping in sugar your teeth hurt, hamusta (sour kubbeh soup). I particularly love the Jerusalem specialty sabich - pitta stuffed with hummus, amba (sort of savoury mango sauce), a boiled egg, aubergine, the ubiquitous cucumber/tomato salad, extra tahini, a little bit of harif (spicy condiment people put on everything). I'm basically vegetarian now, out of choice, and I'm a little nervous about the transition to Cuba - one new colleague has already informed me that you can be a vegetarian in Cuba, as long as you think pork is a vegetable. This does not bode well. 

- feral bloody cats, pissing and shitting and procreating everywhere.

- tahini. It merits a bullet point of its own. I'm going to have to import it to Havana, I've got so used to having it on everything, from my breakfast egg sandwiches to lunchtime salads to evening meals with whole grilled aubergines swimming in tahini sauce. Yum, yum, yum.

- the rabbit warren that is Nachlaot.

- hiking. In Wadi Qelt, up Masada, in the Yehudiya, in the Golan. Anywhere. It's all brilliant.

My first hike in the Yehudiya, May 2012
With Tamar-vellous, as usual...

- the Syrian woodpecker that lives in the Anglican gardens all summer.

- hiring a bike and cycling round the Hula Valley nature reserve as the sun sets in the valley.

- Easter week - the Palm Sunday procession, Maundy Thursday meditations, Good Friday services, sunrise on the Mount of Olives for Easter Sunday. The best place to be in the world, to remember the best thing that ever happened to the world.

- security at Ben Gurion airport.

- learning Hebrew and being corrected by Hannah, our lovely cleaner in school, every time I use the masculine instead of the feminine when talking to her.

- arguing about politics, all the time, with everyone and anyone. Always engaging, usually interesting, often infuriating. I went on the most appalling date with an Israeli guy who insisted on talking right-wing politics at me for over an hour, berated me for making a mildly negative comment about the occupation (apparently since the English are occupying Scotland I'm not qualified to pass judgement on anyone else), told me he had loads of Arab friends and therefore wasn't racist towards Palestinians but thought they preferred Israeli occupation to having their own state, and wouldn't quit even when I told him that I was done talking about politics. Three times. Unsurprisingly, there was no date #2.

- the way that argument over politics taints your interactions with people. This is especially true for NGO bores with messiah complexes who assume that because you live in West Jerusalem you must be a Zionist. If I've learned anything, I've learned that life here is greyer, more complex and full of more contradictions than I ever thought was possible. I could write a separate blog about my own thoughts about the situation here, the conflict that seeps into every day life, but I probably won't. My parents, who have lived in many places and learned a lot, told me that rule #1 of being an expat is the following: it's not your country, so you can have an opinion but you keep it to yourself.

- the rudeness of Israelis.

- the warmth and generosity and humour of Israelis.

- weddings here - Arab or Jewish, they are all a-mazing.

- Shabbat dinners with friends (often the wonderful Pileggis), joining in the kiddush and being joyful. 

ברוך אתה ה' א‑לוהינו, מלך העולם, בורא פרי הגפן.

Baruch ata adonai eloheinu, melach ha-olam, bore pri ha-gefen - blessed are you, LORD our God, King of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

ברוך אתה ה' א‑לוהינו, מלך העולם, המוציא לחם מן הארץ.

Baruch ata adonai eloheinu, melach ha-olam, ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz - blessed are you, LORD our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.

I really could keep writing but that might be tedious for you, dear reader. It's hard to sum up five years in a blog post. It's hard to think about leaving these things, the places I've come to love, the aspects of daily life that make me smile or scowl. It's harder still to think about leaving the people who have made my life here so wonderful. There's a part of me that feels like it will be harder to leave here than it was to leave Bristol five years ago. But I was geared for this international life, and I am excited - if trepidatious - about the next adventure. As long as I can bulk-ship tahini to Havana.