Boiling over

"Jerusalem is boiling," a friend said today. Riots and protests in the Old City have been escalating for days. It was strange to walk by the Old City today and see the usually bustling streets closed off and guarded by soldiers in riot gear. It doesn't help that there has been a strange gray haze settled over the city for the last few days. (Note to my mom and others concerned: This is not dangerous for me. The outbreaks of violence are far away from where I'm living and I'm monitoring the situation carefully.) "Good. It needs to boil," my co-worker replied angrily. Jerusalem has been considered a cold conflict. The only comparison I can think of is a married couple who are tired of fighting with each other and exist in a state of tense silence. So compared to that, maybe bringing the conflict to the surface is better. But, I've heard a few people say that the events of the last few days have an ominous feel.

In season

One of my favorite things about living here is that it's very easy to tell what fruits and vegetables are in season. Unlike the U.S. where you can buy any kind of fruit at any time, here the vendors' stock is always different. Last week, all the fruit sellers in the old city had piles of a green, fuzzy little fruit-like things. At first, I avoided them, but then decided since everyone was carrying them, they must be worth something. When I got home, I asked my neighbor what to do with the strange little fruits. She laughed and told me it was an almond fruit and that I should eat it with salt. I did, and at first it was odd. It's not at all sweet and very crisp. But then they were strangely addictive with tiny green baby almonds inside. I'm looking forward to seeing what's on sale next week.

This too shall pass

I know about culture shock. My stepmom has lived abroad and taken many students abroad and she explained exactly what it would be like.

The first stage is the excitement of going to a foreign country. Then, comes the honeymoon period that lasts for the first few weeks. Everything is cast in a romantic glow--the food, the pace of life, the language, the architecture. But, then the new culture starts to grate. The pace of life is painfully slow, people are rude, even basic tasks take an extreme amount of energy. I've only lived outside of the U.S. for a few months at a time, and so I've never gone past this stage. But the rumor is that after culture shock, you adjust. This can take anywhere from 6-12 months.

Despite being familiar with the symptoms of culture shock, it took me by surprise. The confusing part is I'm still enamored with almost everything about living here. Little things like the jasmine just starting to bloom on our front gate make me deeply happy.

But simultaneously, a lot of other symptoms were starting to crop up. Wikipedia says culture shock is "often marked by mood swings caused by minor issues or without apparent reason." Check. I've been irresistibly drawn to McDonald's and Starbuck's because I can walk in, order exactly what I want, and get the food that I expected for the price I expected. And there are other things. I stopped communicating with people back home because it just took too long to explain the context of what was happening to me, and any story I told was completely inadequate in conveying my experience.

So, now that the problem is identified, where does it leave me? Wikipedia says that 60% of expats find it impossible to accept the foreign culture and isolate themselves until they can return home. Ten percent lose their identity and completely disappear inside the new culture. And 30% manage to keep some of their identity and make some adjustments to the new culture. Of course, I'm aiming for that golden 30%, but we will see how everything shakes out. Today, as I was getting dressed, I was wondering what would the best deodorant for a stifling hot day when I have to drive through impossibly narrow streets, negotiate hostile security guards, bypass crowds of angry protesters, and convince my new boss that I'm competent to do my job. I could imagine the commercial for my life. "If the security guards don't let you through the checkpoint; if you get lost in the middle of Jerusalem with no map; Secret will keep you calm and dry." But the truth is, there is no deodorant made for this strange situation I've put myself in. I'm just going to have to sweat my way through it.

Testing my luck

I drove in Jerusalem for the first time yesterday, and it went very well. My mistake was trying it again today.

When my roommate first mentioned buying a car, the idea of driving here terrified me. This is a city of impossibly narrow streets, aggressive drivers, and often hostile police. But no one else seemed to share my worry.

"Driving here is no problem. Just ignore the honking, and when in doubt, just go. Otherwise you'll never get anywhere," my neighbor told me. But, as it turned out, my roommate's car arrived when she was out of town and I was the only one available to pick it up. My heart was pounding when I sat down in the driver's seat, and there was an awkward moment when I couldn't get the stick shift to go in reverse. But, then I was moving! I didn't have to rely on taxi drivers who charged too much or endure the glares of people on the bus. I could go anywhere! Of course, the first place I went was the wrong way down the highway, but a quick u-turn and I was headed home. Yes, the traffic laws were strange, and the cars around me didn't seem to understand what lanes were, but I seemed to be able to adapt to it intuitively. I made it to the store and bought a lot of bulky items I never could have taken on the bus, and returned home in triumph.


It went so well, that I decided to try again today, forgetting that on Friday mornings the roads are packed with people preparing for Shabbat. Driving today was surreal. I regularly saw scenes like the one above, shot by Melissa Yeo. An older man driving some kind of golf cart at 2 miles an hour decided to take up an entire lane of a very busy street. I couldn't get around him, so I just had to follow him. I saw a giant two-section bus suddenly do a k-turn in the middle of a residential street. I parked the car, and then realized that the street was so narrow that to back out, I would have to block both lanes of traffic. I couldn't wait until the street was clear because the street was never clear. I watched the woman next to me back out calmly into oncoming traffic. Everyone just moved out of her way. I took a deep breath, and then did the same thing. Miraculously, it worked. I made it home with both the car and I undamaged. But, it will be a while before I get back behind the wheel. Buses and taxis are looking much friendlier now.