My very first day in Israel

Taking the post in Jerusalem seemed like a pretty special sort of adventure and I've been looking forward to it for so long.  I didn't realise that the adventure would begin from the moment I walked up to passport control at Tel Aviv Ben Gurion airport.  My first day here has been such an experience and adventure already that I thought it worth sharing.

The adventure had actually begun yesterday at Heathrow Terminal 5 when my over-stuffed suitcase had not just been over-weight but actually over the limit for over-weight, weighing in at a hefty 35 kilos.  Oops.  Bless British Airways, they allowed me to faff around moving some stuff to my hand luggage which by the time I was done consisted of a carry-on suitcase, my laptop and its case and my (already large) handbag, all of them stuffed to bursting.  My shoulders still hurt.  Fortunately my friends from university, Raviv and Laura, were flying out on the same plane on holiday and they scooped me up and bought me alcohol, always a winner.

So, we touched down in Tel Aviv at around 5am local time this morning.  I had been warned by many people, Rav (who's Israeli) included, that getting through border control can be a bit of a struggle, especially for single women.  I was therefore a bit worried (but not surprised) when the nice man in the booth looked at my visa, said "You're working here?" then made a phone-call when I answered yes.  Next thing I know I'm being ushered away by a security guard to a special waiting area (holding pen, I thought nervously) who then vanishes with my passport; I'm here for a while, I think to myself.  Not so - less than five minutes later a large, bald man comes towards me, hands me my passport with a smile and says, "Anna, welcome.  You can go."  And I'm in...

I then had to make my way to the Nesher, a shuttle service from the airport to Jerusalem which works thus: you tell the drivers where you want to go and they put you on the appropriate minibus.  When that minibus is full (usually around 10 people) you leave and get dropped off one by one at your destination address, all for the bargain price of NIS 58.50, around £10.  Bargain.  Not many people were going my direction initially so I was urged to sit, relax and wait, all the while making conversation with the different drivers.  One of them wanted to know why I was so pale (nice) and recommended I get a tan soon.  Another one turned out to be a Tom Jones fan, sang 'It's not unusual' to me and asked me if I was married, then recommended that I get an Israeli husband (not the first to make that recommendation, may I add).

When I finally got on a bus, at around 6.15 am I was squeezed into a seat at the back between a man who had a case of both halitosis and BO and a young American Jewish girl who was returning to Israel to continue studying at one of the many seminaries here.  When she found out it was my first morning in Israel she was delighted, welcomed me profusely, then proceeded to mock my attempts at saying the Hebew address of the school and tell me how cute my English accent is (and we all love that).  She also decided to show me pictures of her brief sojourn in London which, as far as I could tell, was spent mostly on the Piccadilly line ("So cute!  Like little toy trains!") as we rose through the hills and mountains up into Jerusalem.

After battling through some pretty serious traffic I was dropped off at the Anglican School on Haneviim Street just before 8.  It turns out that I'm the first of the visa-deprived/delayed to have arrived and I was greeted with an enthusiasm that bordered on embarrassing.  I don't know if I've ever arrived in a place to find the people there so utterly delighted to see me.  Let's hope it doesn't wear off.  I was given a tour of the school and had a good chat with the office manager (always, always, always the central figure in the running of any school), then managed to get breakfast at a local cafe, aubergine and tomato sandwich, not my first thought for breakfast but it tasted pretty good.  I met my grade 12 class, scared them slightly by being very disapproving of one kid's swearing and another kid's bad attitude (they don't know what they've let themselves in for), then was dropped off home at about 11.30, by that stage completely hanging.

After unpacking, a brief but vital snooze, a call and more haggling with my shipping agent (seriously, how much more money do they want from me?) my housemate and I ventured forth.  My housemate Allison is rapidly becoming to me a cross between Yoda and Mother Theresa, so complete has been her wisdom, guidance and care in the very short time I've been here.  There'll come a point when she's sick of me being her shadow but until then I'm happy to trail around after her, discovering where the 24-hour shops are or who sells the best lamb shwarma.  She left me downtown, about 10 minutes walk from our flat, on Ben Yehuda Street, with the words "So, you think you'll get back OK?" to go to Hebrew class and I sallied forth, armed only with my trusty streetmap.  And here's the scoop: I think I love Jerusalem.  It's so wonderfully warm and sunny; it's busy and bustling and full of life; and all the houses are made of beautiful sandy Jerusalem stone.  I rambled round downtown for a bit then headed back up the hill (yes, it's quite hilly here, excellent for my fitness) towards the central market called the Mahane Yehuda or the shuk, where I spent a blissful thirty minutes staring at people and food and spices and shops selling Judaica and stallholders shouting and buyers of all backgrounds buying. 

Tiredness eventually got the better of me and I took my weary little body home (a mere five minutes walk from the shuk), accompanied by an americano from a local coffee place and a piece of flat-bread covered with za'tar, the local spice mix.  My bedroom and balcony look west towards the Knesset (Parliament) and some huge construction sites (a very common sight) and I enjoyed my coffee whilst looking out at a rather splendid sunset.  My housemate has just returned home with my dinner (see?  Mother Theresa...) and I'm going to eat it then fall, gratefully, into bed to try to recharge before tomorrow.

My very first day in Israel: a roaring success.