30 January 2008

Last night, everyone had their noses pressed up to their cold windows, condensation forming all over the panes, eagerly waiting the snow this town has been preparing for since last weekend. The national news reports yesterday were all about Jerusalem’s preparations. The free paper that’s now delivered to my door every day gave tips on surviving the snow, including “Wear warm clothes and layers. On leaving the house, wear a coat, hat and gloves.” Another column discussed how those who study Kabbalah roll around in the snow in order to atone for sins, but fear not those of you who don’t study Jewish mysticism: the article goes on to say how rubbing your arms and forehead with anow along with the recitation of a verse has the same effect.

Having to trek out to school yesterday, I got stuck outside in the rain that was traveling horizontally across the coast.

After a few spats of wintry mix, the snow properly arrived some time last night. I didn’t sleep well, eagerly anticipating its arrival. I set my alarm for 8.30, but was well awake beforehand. I opened the blinds and there it was: winter wonderland. At least an inch had accumulated overnight, too heavy to be supported by the trees already in turmoil from the gusting wind. The streets look barely plowed, if at all, and are amazingly silent like only a snowstorm can make them. No public transportation this morning, no school, not even healthcare at the clinic next door. A few cars here and there; otherwise, nonstop snowfall. As I’m writing this, I’m watching the neighbor’s orange tree get covered in snow, the one lone orange atop a branch beaming brightly against the surrounding evergreens, wet limestone buildings and accumulating snow.

This afternoon, venturing out in the snow was like reliving snowstorms in DC. Two world capitals whose inhabitants are so consumed with manmade power than when nature reintroduces herself into the party, everyone leaves. More appropriately, runs screaming from the party, raiding the closest grocery of all bread, milk batteries and eggs.
The streets near me, adorned with multimillion dollar apartments, are unpaved, yet another similarity with DC. Assorted families build snowmen on sidewalks, a nice family outing, until they leave and their monstrous creations stay behind, waving passers-by with their twig hands and eventually decapitated forms. Schools are cancelled today and tomorrow, with the municipality’s Annual Snowman Building Contest taking place both days.

The snow doesn’t come alone, rather somewhere in a sequence of rain, freezing rain, hail and sleet. By this evening, a lot had melted and more had fallen, preparing the roads for a nice sheet of ice come morning. Day 2 in the snow to come.