30 August 2006

I got up early to trek out to the Absorption Ministry. On the way, a bumped into a former colleague coming back from morning prayers. Although I knew he'd be in town, I wasn't expecting to see him, which is ridiculous in this small city where everyone knows everyone already.
After waiting 20 minutes after my appointed time, I finally got to see my metapelet ("case worker," for lack of a better term). She was very friendly, helpful, personable, and complimented me several times on my Hebrew and thought-out plans for being here. I then saw another advisor at Student Authority in order to get the approval for free tuition at the Hebrew University, who was equally helpful in letting me know what next steps I had to take (and also complimented me on my Hebrew). I think I'm forcing myself to believe that the oft-told horror stories of Israeli bureaucrazy will happen to me, though so far they haven't. I definitely don't want to tempt the Fates here, but it's going well.

After treating myself to a proper breakfast at a nearby café, I came back to rest for the inevitable task of the day: moving all my stuff into the new apartment. I'm staying at another friend's for a few days, which is in walking distance to the apartment. I decided I would try not to spend money on a taxi again and look bizarre in walking back and forth upscale Jerusalem with luggage. Up the hill, past the estates, and through the yuppie café-filled streets I went, with each leg of the trip ending with a huge sigh. Each suitcase became progressively heavier with each journey, making each drop-off all the more satisfying. I started unpacking, despite the lack of furniture.

I decided to grab some food downtown, waiting for an incredibly long time for bus back. Watching TV and thinking about passing out from exhaustion, huge explosive sounds reverberated throughout the town. I waited a minute before jumping to conclusions, and since the TV broadcast didn't break for the news, it wasn't any thing about which to be concerned. Turns out it was a huge fireworks display downtown during a concert for teenagers. Even though there are fireworks here every Independence Day, how OK are we with a sound and light display that mirrors the worst of days here, davka (roughly translating to " especially, now more than ever") after a month-long battle/war/wipeout?

Off to Tel Aviv for the weekend, updates to follow