So many things . . .

New friend Arlissa, who works at the consulate, took Kathy and I out to Ein Gedi, a national Park. It was a lot like Zion's but with whitish, yellowish rocks instead of red.

Everyone was hiking in their suits. It was HOT! And sort of humid which I wasn't expecting.

We passed by the dead sea. Kathy has the pictures of when we went swimming in it. I'll post them later.

So, here's a recap of last weeks highlights. While waiting for the bus home, as per usual, an orthodox Jewish man started a conversation with me in very stilted English. He's a student at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem where we work and probably about in his 50's. He wore a kippah, prayer shawl, beard ... the works (no earlocks). He wanted to know how to look up which universities in the US would have Hebrew studies--he wants to teach in the US. I started to say "google it" but got lost in the complexities of web browsing sites in other languages. Could he google it in Hebrew? How do you translate University of Nebraska-Lincoln into Hebrew? "I know there are about 50 Universities in the US," he says. I'm not sure whether he thought there were only 50 Unversities, or whether there were 50 with Hebrew programs. "I couldn't really say," was my response. He pressed me to tell him of the Universities in my area. Which one was most likely to have Hebrew Studies? I threw out "BYU," which he had me write down for him on a piece of paper. After several minutes of confusing conversation (what was I doing with the card catalogue? was I working for the University?, was I working for the city of Provo?--but we were puting the library catalaogue from Hebrew University online so that Universities in Utah could benefit from them, right?) he pressed his resume on me and asked if I would speak to people at BYU on his behalf. Or a University in the plains states. He really likes that area. I really tried to explain that I have absolutely no pull there, or at any other university, but I'm not sure that either of us came away with a clear understanding about what the other had sad. Definitely my favorite conversation in Jerusalem so far.

Second favorite conversation. At the grocery store around the corner and down the block from us, I was in the check-out line with a large stash of toilet paper--we were low. The woman cashier (Mimi-like eye-shadow, probably mid- 60's, closely curled, dyed brown hair) spoke to me rapidly in Hebrew. I shrugged my shoulders and said "Sorry! I only speak English (I say that A LOT)." She spoke more Hebrew at me. "Um . . . Anglite?"

"Oh! Anglite." Followed by rapid Hebrew. The man who had been in line in front of me (you bag your own groceries here so it takes longer to get out) kindly translated for me.

"She says that if you buy . . . um, the pink toilet paper--it's the same brand--and it's discounted. 10 shekels cheaper (around 3 or 4 dollars)."

There was a line of people behind me so I quickly said "No big deal. I don't really care that much."

But the woman REALLY wanted me to get the discount. She pulled out the coupon and everything.

So I ran to the back of the store (it's actually pretty small though) grabbed the pink toilet paper (literally pink--not just the packaging), had to squeeze my way to the front of the growing line, and plopped down the TP.

More Hebrew.

The store manager comes over.

As I look apologetically around me, I see a few shoppers in line who are smirking to themselves. It is a gigantic 24 pack of toilet paper.

A grocery worker exchanges the pink toilet paper for my original blue packaged, white-colored toilet paper.

The cashier rattles off a long diatribe.

The woman behind me in line translates this time (self-bagging man translater is long gone).

"She says . . . they no longer have the discount. She's very sorry. She wanted to give you the discount."

I exhale a huge sigh of relief when I hand her my debit card and leave with my bagged groceries. As I give one more "so Sorry" smile to my line--I see outright smiles.

Poor Kathy, who was just starting to get over a week-long illness-had to wait outside the whole time wondering what in the world was taking so long. But we now have toilet paper to last a while.

Finally, there are skinny cats EVERYWHERE. In our neighborhood, the park, on campus. They just wander around. I've seen whole chicken breats set out on the dumpster for the cats to eat, but I don't think anyone owns any particular cat. In the park I saw a woman with a bag full of cat food laying out scoops all over. Same on campus. Almost no dogs, but lots of cats.

Also, I got to eat dinner at Sahar's house on Sunday--it was her mother's birthday, but her mother cooked all of the food and wouldn't even consider letting us do any dishes or clean-up. No way. It was delicious and massive! Chicken tomatoes and potatoes. Rice and ground beef wrapped and cooked in cabbage leaves. Rice with vegetables and chicken. Cucumber, mint, and tomato salad. Beets and pickles and vegetales in this tahini-tomato sauce. Then grapes, apples, nectarines and cake for dessert. Amazing. I also got to see the shepherds' fields in Bethlehem (cool caves where you can just wander around with no guide and no red tape).

Also, Analyn Scabalund (now Smith) is in my ward (a fellow Utah county swimmer whom I knew growing up). And I shared a cab back from Bethlehem with a Utah State University Prof. of Agriculture, here working on a research grant, who knows all of the weed mapping Grad Students and Prof's I worked with. He asked me what year I weed mapped for Prof Dewey. I said four or five years ago. Then he asked, "that was you then, with the trailer . . .?" Yes. That was me who wrecked the trailer. And no, they didn't ever get another one.

Saturday at BYU and the Monastary

A volleyball net? I think. Found in the paths behind the Monastary.

The Monastary of the Cross (supposedly where the wood for the cross came from).

A view from the Jerusalem Center.

More of BYU. Beautiful, no?

For some reason each egg has this stamp on it. Wish I knew what that meant. Something to do with Kosher maybe?

Went to the BYU Jerusalem center on Sat. for church. It has to be in one of the most beautiful situations in the world. The grounds around the center are themselves wonderful, but the kicker is that it sits on Mt. Scopus above any other building with a view directly overlooking the old city. The Dome of the Rock is center stage when looking through the wall of windows that is the back wall of our Chapel. Uh-Mazing. There are about 80 BYU students here (one of whom is named Greta and has told me I can come play on her cello whenever I want). The rest of the ward members are families working at the consulate, BYU prof.'s, a service missionary couple, a few immigrant hospice workers from the Philipines, and some spanish speaking countries, and a few converts who are native to the area. There was a guard outside the entrance to the center. We have to tell him that we're mormons and we're coming for church before we can get in. Typical Jerusalem. Apparently an Arab driver ran into four Israeli soldiers near Mt Scopus a few days ago so tensions are high again (hence so is security). Bro. Hamblin teaches at the BYU center and is the man who is kind enough to drive completely out of his way to pick up several carless members for church. I love him already.

After church, Kathy and I went for a walk to the Monastary of the cross, which is only about 8 min walking from where we live. We had fun taking lots of pictures, seeing cute families out for sunday walks (sat is like sunday here), and wondering around the paths that dot the hillside behind the monastary. I finally found a good place to go running in this city!

And so this morning I went for my first Israeli run. Only 3 miles, but I didn't get lost--so I'm counting it a huge success. I also came home on the bus alone for the first time. I had to wait forever for my bus to come. As I was waiting, I noticed a fellow English speaker (she shook her head and said "Sorry" to several people asking her questions about the bus). Eventually I started up a conversation with her and found out that she's actually German. She's here researching some archives at the library at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem for her PHD in Literature. It's her second summer out here and she still doesn't speak a lick of Hebrew--this made me feel better about my Hebrew skills and worse about my chances of bettering them. I forgot to ask her name, but we take the same bus and both hang around the library all day, so maybe we'll run into each other again. But . . .back to my first bus ride. I got off a stop early and had to follow the bus to my correct stop so I could find my way home. Traffic was really slow, so I kept loitering because I didn't want to pass the bus and have my new German friend and all the others on the bus notice what a dork I was for having got off at the wrong bus stop. I felt a HUGE sense of accomplishment when I got to the street leading to our apartment and I RECOGNIZED it. Yay for small steps.

Apparently I'm already an obsessed blogger

A picture of Kiryat Schmuel--the neighborhood we live in.
A cool, zebra-striped bird on campus today.
Part of the checkpoint into Bethlehem

My first day blogging and I can't seem to stop. I forgot to say that the hummus and pita bread is AMAZING! I've been eating it for lunch everyday. Buying things in the store is hilarious because all the labels are in Hebrew (except for the American products like Captain Crunch). Milk comes in small cardboard containers OR in much cheaper bags. The idea is that you buy a pitcher that's designed to be perfect milk-bag size, place the bag in the pitcher and just cut off the top corner of the bag and pour. Also, I've passed lots of savory looking bake shops, but ate my first pastry today just at the cafeteria on campus. It was heaven! Flaky, light, with cream cheese filling . . . nothing like pastries at college cafes at home.
Also, because today is the today before the Jewish Sabbath (and the day mormons go to church here) everything closes down super early. The buses stop running a little after midday. All the shops here close earlish even on normal days (around 8 o clock), but especially on Fridays. The greeting and goodbye for weekends is "Shabbat Salom", good sabbath. Jerusalem is a very religious city wich is interesting because it's also a really big metropolitan city. But Kosher laws are everywhere (they have seperate cafeterias at the university for dairy and meat).
I forgot to say that Sahar was actually baptized in the church built above the nativity site, and that she took us to dinner in Bethlehem to a place that had mostly American dishes. I got a chicken fajita served on rice and with curry like spices. Not at all fajita like, but very delicious. Also I forgot to say that Bethlehem is not actually dangerous at all. Thousands of tourists go there everyday.
Lastly, promise for today, today at the library people kept poking their heads into our workroom (even though there's a sign on the door that says don't disturb in Hebrew, arabic, and English) and started rattling off to us in Hebrew. I don't know whether I should be flattered that they didn't recognize us as foreigners, or if they just expected us to speak Hebrew. When we told them we only spoke English they mostly just smiled, said "Hello" and left. I wonder if there all coming to check out the weird Americans . . .

First Days in Jerusalem

The spot of Christ's Birth (according to fourth century belief). People were kneeling down and kissing the spot of the manger.

A Mosaic from the room where Jerome translated the bible into Latin.

The church (Greek Orthodox) above the manger site.

Me outside the mall in Jerusalem.

So . . . my first adventure started in the Tel Aviv airport when the scanner I brought over with me didn't show up in the oversize luggage. After waiting and waiting and praying, I headed over to the lost and found area where I hit a snag filling out paper work because I didn't know my address in Israel. Just as I was preparing to make a long chain of phone calls back to the states, they found my baggage "lost" underneath the baggage claim somewhere. Thank goodness the scanner arrived safe and sound. Customs was just a green line on the ground that no one was paying attention to--walked right through.
Our apartment is in the neighborhood Kiryat Schmuel (named after an Ashkenazi Rabbi). It has a charming red gate with an alley entrance, our own patio, and lots of vegetation in the back. Our entire street is covered in beautiful flowering vines, and palm trees . . . also cacti. Lots of birds.
My first day at the library I met all of the department we're working with--many of them English speaking immigrants--and set up the scanner. Then Kathy and I took off for Bethlehem (a Palestinian Territory) to meet Sahar, the Relief Society President. All of our Israeli friends acted like we were setting out for terrorist-controlled no-mans-land when we asked for directions to Bethlehem (they even claimed they couldn't help us find the checkpoint by Rachel's Tomb, a popular Jewish site, because they didn't know how to get there). Israeli's aren't allowed to go into Bethlehem because it's controlled by the Palestinian National Authority, but the checkpoints and road blocks are all controlled by Israeli military. Kathy and I initially started heading up the entrance for cars because that's where our Israeli cab driver told us to go. Machine-gunned guards yelled at us in Hebrew and chased us down (four of them). I thought we might be in a little bit of trouble, but as soon as we started speaking in English they just smiled and pointed us around the corner to where the pedestrian checkpoint was. Lots of barbed wire, guns, and turnstiles to go through there, but our American Passports get us right through. After going through the checkpoint and avoiding all of the waiting taxi-cab drivers (who literally followed us down the block trying to take us somewhere) we met Bro. Odah who worked at a tourist shop full of beautiful olive wood carvings. He obviously gets a fair amount of Mormon customers because among all of the expected christian carvings (nativities, the last supper, the cross, etc) were busts of the prophet Joseph Smith, and one of the first vision--also a Liahona. Bro. Odah doesn't come to church with the rest of the branch because he doesn't have a permit to enter Jerusalem (even though his wife does). Sahar has a permit to go in and out of Bethlehem because she works for the U.N., but her permit only allows her to go to certain cities and she has a curfew of 7:00, by which time she much be back in Bethlehem. The entire city of Bethlehem is surrounded by a concrete wall. We heard a story of a woman who fought for the right to keep her house (they were building the wall right through it) and won. Consequently her house is surrounded on three sides by unfinished parts of the wall. She isn't allowed to use the third story of her house because she would be able to see over the wall into Jerusalem from there. Crazy right? More to come later, this is obviously already WAAAAY too long.