Information at your fingertips

I'm a big proponent of technology. Heaven knows I depend on it for everything from communication to brainstorming to reminders. So, obviously, I have my iPod Touch loaded up with Israel-specific apps. Here are the apps I use on a more-or-less daily basis:

• Janglo
• yad2
• Jerubus
• Morfix
• Ynet
• Jerusalem Post
• Haaretz
• AJE Live
• SmartTraveler
• Visit iSrael
• Visit TLV
• Gay Tel Aviv Vibe
• Telobike
• Converter

These are on top of the usual apps you'd use in any place you live, such as Skype or Evernote or the ubiquitous Facebook. I also don't have an iPhone, so I don't have apps that depend on having a constant connection to the internet, and these are just the apps I tend to use, so it's certainly not to say this is a be all, end all list. Not by any means. But these are my recommendations for what works for me. If you have any suggestions, for iOS or Android, leave them in the comments.

Navigating Simon's family can be a bit tricky.

Like more people, Simon came out to his family in stages: first his siblings, later his mother, and, about two or three years ago, his father. 

His brother and sister are totally fine with us. I've been over to houses for dinners and weekends and the occasional New Year's Eve party. His mother is just "OK" with his being gay, and doesn't know what to do with me. Every time I'm at their house, she's very nice to me and, like any Jewish mother, feeds me until I can't walk anymore. And kudos to her, because it took her a long time to get even that far. And Simon's father...well, Simon's father doesn't quite know what to do with the "gay" thing, nevermind me. Needless to say, I've never met him.

Last Friday was no different. Before Simon's father got home from work, we went over to his parents' house. It was one of his niece's 6th birthday today, and they were having a little party for her. Upon entering, his niece (she of the birthday) proceeds to explain in detail her new birthday outfit, and how the sleeves of the sweater don't stay up when she puts her arms over her head. I am then literally almost bowled-over by his 5-year-old nephew, who ran out of a back bedroom and latched onto my leg (he likes me because I play with him a lot, mainly because I can't keep up with adult Hebrew but kid Hebrew is do-able). Then his other niece tottled out of the bedroom to see what the commotion was all about, saw me and Simon, giggled, and ran back into the bedroom. She just turned four.

New this week, though, was Simon's grandmother, who I had never met. Simon's mother's family is from Morocco, and came to Israel when Simon's mother was a teenager. Simon's grandmother is getting up there in age, and both her hearing and her mind are starting to go a bit. Because of this, she's forgotten much of her Hebrew, so all conversation with her has to be in loud, simple Hebrew or Arabic. Between my intermediate Hebrew and strong accent and her mixing of Arabic and Hebrew and strong accent, we didn't do much conversing. Even Simon shouting "THIS IS BEN" in Arabic took three or four tries before we're pretty sure she got it.

And so the afternoon went. After stuffing ourselves on schnitzel, peppers with spaghetti, and that spicy Moroccan tomato salad I can never remember the name of (I'm pretty sure it starts with an "m"), much of the rest of the time was spent playing Dora The Explorer matching games, freeze tag, and then putting a Yug-E-Oh puzzle together. And then I had to hang up a string of balloons because I was the only person in the house tall enough to reach the ceiling lamp*. Oh, and I almost fell off the chair and crushed Simon's grandmother. I don't think she noticed.

Around dinnertime we had some cake and coffee (oddly enough while watching Joan River's Fashion Police: Golden Globes Edition), and then Simon took me home in his parents' car on the way to going to fetch his father at work, which is how we usually run things when I come on Fridays. And then I came home to catch up on "Nikita" and Simon went back to have dinner with his family.

It's a bit hard for me, since I don't have any family here and only a limited group of friends in Tel Aviv. I feel like I should go out and meet people, but that's so much easier said than done.

*For reference, I'm 5'11"/1.80 metres.

So this just happened to me...

I was in the bathroom at work, peeing, when I hear the door open. My first thought, in all my paranoia, is that it's my boyfriend from down the hall. Then I hear all kind of rustling, and then the paper-towel dispenser open. It's about then that it dawns on me that it's the janitor, this mild-mannered Russian woman who minds our building and empties our trash, etc.

But here's the thing: I'm in the men's bathroom, with my wang in my hand, peeing, and there's a woman in the room. She doesn't say "hi" or acknowledge my existence, but just goes about her work, checking the toilet paper and whatever else she was doing (I had my back turned and was dying of awkwardness, so I didn't see). And I'm just standing there, peeing.

And that's when it occurred to me that it wasn't really awkward. She couldn't see anything (if there weren't those between-urinal dividers, I might have a different opinion), it wasn't really bothering me, and we both had stuff to get done. So I finished my business, washed my hands, and left, like it was a regular trip to the restroom. The restroom that just happened to have a middle-aged lady in it at the time.

I wouldn't have cared if it was a male janitor or another guy that had to use the restroom, why does it matter that it's a woman? Maybe Anglos are too uptight about formalities and boundaries and civility. For now, though, let's not push it beyond the occasional woman in the men's room, yeah?

Thoughts on advertising

On the way to church on Sunday, there was one if those rotating billboards. You know, with the slats that turn and show three different signs? Anyway, one was for high-speed internet on your mobile phone. The second was for the grand opening of a Forever 21 store, which is wholly unnecessary and apparently a scene of complete madness (which doesn't surprise me at all). But there's already an Abercrombie & Fitch at Mamila in Jerusalem. Haven't we suffered enough already? But if Hollister shows up, I'm leaving.

And the third was for the new 3-D film "Puss in Boots", which I guess was a fairytale reference Israelis wouldn't get because they translated the title as "Shrek's Cat".  Marketing creative license, I guess.

 

An Expat Xmas

Since I’m spending my fourth Christmas in a very Christmas-lacking country, I’ve collected a smattering of music and videos and articles on my Tumblr to supplement that and to create a nice Christmas-like holiday at least in my own house.

So, in the spirit of Christmas, throughout the day I’ll share with you guys my Christmas things for those of you who are spending Christmas Day without a lot of Christmas atmosphere. I would have been more organized about this, but it occurred to me to do this this morning on the way to church so, in true Israeli fashion, it’s a bit slapdash and last minute.

חג אורים וחנוכה שמח!
ميلاد مجيد!
Happy Christmas, everyone!