Summer in Tel Aviv Means:

1.) You constantly question the convention and purpose of putting on a shirt.

2.) Travelling 10 meters means you've already sweated through said shirt.

3.) You start looking at the jacket in your closet with a combination of nostalgia and sheer horror.

4.) You know the word "mazgan"(air conditioner) and employ it often.

5.) When you open the freezer to get something, you are pleasantly surprised by the temperature and stick your head in it for about 15 seconds until you realize that your head is indeed in a freezer.

6.) Your fan is your best friend. You take him with you to the living room in the morning, to the laundry room when you're folding laundry and to your bedroom where, even though he sits humming at you from a few centimeters away, you'd snuggle with him if you could.

7.) You put up with screaming children in indoor public places with "mazgan" just to feel a temperature of less than 36 degrees for a few minutes (or an hour or two as I do).

8.) The friend with the "mazgan" is the most popular one.

9.) Even if the sea has jellyfish that sting you, you risk it anyway because you just need to fucking cool off.

10.) If you are not at the beach, you are sequestered in your apartment or office wondering what it was like to not live in hell.

Let's hope I survive this inferno so that I can write a "Winter in Tel Aviv Means:" post in January.

I Live In France

Well today I took my cheap ass out for a much needed trip to the market. For weeks I've been surviving off of the pasta that my roommate's gracious Iraqi mother gave to me, cans of tuna, peanut butter-banana-honey sandwiches (delicious), and, last but not least - hummus and pita. Yes, I am a cheap bastard. Or maybe I'm more lazy than cheap. I don't know. Too many thoughts in the head. Too much effort.

Anyway, upon entering the main outdoor market in Tel Aviv - the famous Carmel Market - all I could hear was a constant hum of "Ce que doit nous achetons. Non cela est trop jaune. Peut-être nous devrions acheter ceci. Combien de baisant des euros avez-vous ? Quel est shakshuka ? Où la salle de bains est ? Oh ce n'est que 5000 euros ? Bien, je l'achèterai. Où la plage est ?"

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh. The French have invaded Israel.

They are launching a "tour d'loud annoying voice" campaign to take over the city of Tel Aviv for a few weeks. They come to participate in loud pre-mating rituals, to gather and consume copious amounts of sustinance and fermented beverages, to change the color of their skin from white to red, and to generally distrupt the local ecosystem. And I am one of the many innocent bystanders in this precious ecosystem.

The only positive benefit that I have seen come out of this is listening to myself unconciously imitate French as I'm walking around my apartment in the morning, happily in my underwear, drinking my coffee, and eating my cereal. "je pre leuo ahn ba tititeh. Ouo je'leurs est m'crepres. Hoh hoh hoh oui oui oui".

I am nearly fluent.

Thank you French group of 18-year-olds sitting behind me on the bus to Jerusalem talking AS LOUD AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.

That is all.

Funny Things

My upkeep of this blog is embarrassing. Neglecting it was never in my plans upon its creation, but things get in the way sometimes. Maybe the neglect is a testament to my larger involvement with my new life out here in Israel and, as an effect, a sign of effective cultural integration - or maybe it's a testament to my laziness toward doing "non-essential" activities. Although it's a mix of the two - I feel the latter wins out over the former.

Anyway, just to get a post up here, I'm going to tell all of you about some Veird (think Israeli accent) things that can only be seen in Israel. Screw the substantive stuff for now - it should be coming in a week or two - and believe me it will be substantive.

For now, here is a nice little list of weird/hillarious/shocking/awe-inspiring/stupid things that can only be found in the tiny enclave called Israel:

1. The 15 foot tall dancing polar bear that my friends and I saw walking through the Florentine section of town. Why not?

* Photo credit to my Dutch friend Annelien

2. The dancing rabbi brigade known as "Na Nachs" that cruises around various cities in Israel in their van pumping hassidic techno/dance songs to ridiculous decibel levels. This is complemented by some interesting dance moves:

3. The clientele walking out of the whorehouse from down my street. Most of them are orthodox Jews...

4. This store window display from a wig shop that I found on a street close to my apartment. Nice beard, bro.

5. Man with dog on scooter (look hard).

6. The man who claims to be Jesus - likes to give his sermons drinkin' a beer and smokin' a J. My friend saw him get arrested on the beach.

7. Israeli girls in their final year of army service, in civilian clothes, walking around with an M16 slung around their necks.

I guess that should suffice for now. Vat a vierd land. Hope you enjoyed.

Actually, I'm an Actor

...Not really. Just a lowly extra. But, at least now I can say that I was an actor in a movie about Israeli Independence. I played a British soldier - uniform, beret and 1940's-era rifle. Take a look (and excuse the quality):

Don't worry - Just because I'm a budding star doesn't mean that I'm giving up my day job...