Habit Forming

So they say that it takes 21-28 days to form habits; one more week and I'm there.  Day 14 in Israel.  Really?  I already have my cell phone, bank account, bus card, apartment, dog park, bus line, oh and a job.  My sentence structure is getting a bit more complete instead of the fragments that I arrived with though I'm still far from totally fluent.  I realized that I've overcome some of the anxiety in speaking that I suffered from the first year that I lived here in 1998 but am more than willing to use my English for convenience.  The more confidence I show, the more willing people are to engage in Hebrew conversations with me. 

Working for the ministry of health in Israel is far from north shore district 112.  Every psychologist that I've met has been so warm and helpful showing tremendous patience and support for my Hebrew.  I'm pleasantly surprised when I communicate in Hebrew and people not only understand my message but encourage my progress.  The structure of working here is like going out for a family style meal.  Offerings of coffee precede any professional conversations and genuine freedom and flexibility are permitted.  Literally, I've been given the amount of hours that I'm employed, my placements, and a supervisor but otherwise I'm free to make all of my own decisions.  I should add the disclaimer that we are still in the initial stages of educational planning for the year and the more intense work begins in October.  In the meantime, I am enjoying the relaxed pace and the hour bus commute with wi-fi. 

I feel like the topic of habit forming wouldn't be complete without writing about city living in Israel.  This will be the hardest part for me to adjust to.  Despite the fact that I am living in a $2000 apartment (all inclusive), we regularly sweep up plaster, tolerate the odor of urine, walk by garbage and bums to enter into the building, live in tight quarters, fill our mini fridge with food only for 1-2 days, wash dishes by hand, and cook with a traveling stove top and toaster oven.  I've poured sour milk from two different cartons of milk purchased within 24 hours and drink instant coffee.  We have remote controlled air conditioning units and a balcony to help us regulate the immense sweat incurred throughout the day.  My legs carry me all over town with my dog and up and down 3 flights of stairs multiple times a day (I've got to believe my pants will soon reflect this!).

So my hour bus ride is almost up.  Signing off for now.

   






 

Assimilation

Though it's not totally true, I can honestly say that I think I know what it feels like to be an immigrant to a country.  And yes, it is cheating since I am an educated American English speaking professional in a country where English is practically a 2nd language.  Regardless, each day I understand more and more of the words spoken around me yet need a translator to accurately complete paperwork.

The discussion in one of my meetings at work today, "Dilemmas of new immigrants."  How a propos.  There were no powerpoint presentation or handouts just a group of psychologists connecting on a personal level and sharing ideas.  The group consisted of 2 or 3 Argentinians, 1 Uruguayian, an Israeli, Brazilian, an American/Israeli blends, and me.  I understood over 50% of the details and most of the concepts spoken yet spoke in English since all but 1 understood me perfectly.  In the first week on the job I see that psychologists working for the clinic here are extremely kind and supportive of one another.  People go out of there way each day to introduce themselves to me and ask if I need anything.  Meetings often start with affectionate greetings and inquiries about one another's families and personal lives.  Loose guidelines are given to us as far as placements and hours and otherwise there seems to be quite a bit of professional freedom allowed.  I will go to my 2 schools this week and try to envision the work that I will be doing there.  People seem to be excited about my certification in Animal Assisted Therapy and suggest that I supervise a student who is studying in this field.  It's too bad Indi isn't better suited for the work since dogs are allowed on public buses here (as long as they wear a muzzle).  Perhaps, I'll give it another try now that we're living a different lifestyle and see if we can put her to work.             

Overall, in my first week I have started a job, opened a bank and cell phone account, unpacked, and found a vet.  Next up is to find a yoga studio and Ulpan. 

Thing missed:  curbside recycling (recycling in general), clean streets,  grass for my dog, reasonably priced everything

Things not missed: sticky wax on fruit, driving, junk mail, the stress of north shore school district 112    

Landed on two feet

Phew.  Luggage breezed through El Al security and the really nice ticket agent even waived the $300 overage fees.  Indi was successfully sedated and stuffed into her cage for the 10 hour flight and was only slightly pissed as she rolled up on the conveyer belt in Tel Aviv.  I was thrilled to see Lironne's glowing face on the other side of customs and thankfully all of my luggage fit into her car and she was willing to share the haul up 45 stairs. 

I knew it.  As soon as I landed into that apartment, the weight would be lifted off my shoulders and indeed it was.  I landed right in the heart of Tel Aviv and would begin the transformation from suburbanite into a big city girl.  Day one I met with my new employer and got the run down on what my responsibilities will be.  Everyone was super friendly, welcoming, and patient with my broken Hebrew.  I'll officially start Sunday the 11th of September.  The jet lag didn't hit as bad as the odors of Tel Aviv.  Between the street cats, feces and urine, garbage dumpsters, and sweat I remember that I have come a long way from the immaculately kept green streets of Highland Park.  Each day (multiple times a day) I take Indi to the Mediterranean Sea to play in the sand.  And she too is training her olfactory system to desensitize to the potent odors of Tel Aviv.  I feel strangely at home with local friends to call and a familiarity of the language and geography.  I'm here 3 days and can already taste the joy of a Mediterranean winter.  Each night I sit on my balcony with a glass of wine and my dog observing my new scenery: cats on rooftops, the shuk, people dining, scooters, bikes, and buses galore.  I made it.  I landed on two feet.  Now let the fun begin.  Off to a rooftop party...




 

Nomadic lifestyles

So I've concluded that I would make a horrible nomad since I struggled to pack my belongings for 1 year into my Toyota Matrix.  For some reason, I now have a better understanding of the statement "Americans live big."  We live in big homes with big closets, drive around in big cars, purchase in quantity from places like Costco and Target, eat supersized meals, and shop in stores that carry XXXX large sizes.  And I am an American (born and raised) so I have been subjected to this socialization process however, closing up shop here for a year has raised some questions for me.  I was forced to take inventory of all of my belongings since I needed to account for them for my year abroad and was slightly horrified.  I admittedly found: over 10 pairs of jeans, 10 pairs of black slacks (and white slacks for that matter), a collection of T-shirts that could easily dress me for a month without doing laundry, an enormous miscelaneous category that I prefer to ignore, and just an obscene amount of half used and unopened toiletrees.  This list in nowhere near complete.  This process brought me to some healthy self-reflection and cause for concern over American priorities.  Granted I'm one person who lived in a 2 bedroom townhouse with basement, garage, and huge yard so nothing really made me seem like a hoarder; however my consumerism definitely runs strong.   

Being a middle class American working in a stressful environment, earning a healthy salary just to maintain a mortgage, car, pay off student loans, and be a good American consumer created a busy void.  I had a very comfortable routine consisting of driving my 5 minute commute to and from work and then using my membership to the health club for yoga and spending time at the local dog park.


To Be Continued.............

Bumps and Bruises

So I have 4 days left in the "Windy City" to train like Rocky and lick the wounds I've acquired from all of my self-injurious behavior over the past few weeks.  I know that when you have a lot on your mind, too much to do, and/or act in a hurry you are more likely to make silly mistakes but apparently I am seriously injury prone.  After my first three warnings (including a near fall down the stairs resulting in a puncture centimeters from my eyeball) I thought I was being more aware of concentrating on my physical actions.  That is, until August 1st's innocent attempt to blend my own homemade pesto sauce.  Unlike all the blenders I have used, my mother's immersion blender has no safety feature.  Needless to say I learned a valuable lesson during my emergency room ordeal: "always remove sharp appliances from their electrical source before touching them."  Thankfully, this happened while my mom (a registered nurse) was home and my Blue Cross card was still active.  15 stitches and almost a month later I am able to look at my sliced finger and talk about it.  The nerves seem to be repairing themselves and the jury is still out on the future of my fingernail.  My obsessive wound care with essential oils and mederma seems to be helping the scar heal and I have now become a walking public service announcement for blade safety.

While my blended up finger was the most painful of the injuries, I still have a frightening record that I've accumulated while packing and moving around like a nomad during the last few weeks: a blood blister from squeezing my finger in clippers, slamming a door on my finger, dropping a box on my toe, banging and bruising my leg in some mystery injury, and the slip down the stairs with accompanying eye puncture.  Dare I drive across the country and fly across the world with my dog next week?   

The answer:  The King Spa, Chiropractor, Massage Therapist, and Mediterranean Sea 

 



  

If you were stranded on a island what is the one thing you would take with you?

So I have royally failed at my attempt to add weekly entries to this blog.  However I will waive the self-inflicted punishment because in lieu of blogging, I have been writing my final paper for my animal assisted therapy program which I will present in Denver on the 25th.  Additionally, I have been facing the most daunting task of fitting my material life into 2 suitcases.  This task has forced me to question my attachments to the physical world.  You know the age-old question, "If you were stranded on a island what is the one thing you would take with you?"  I feel like I have been answering this question in my quest to pack for a year.  The only difference is that it is 2 suitcases not "one thing" that I am taking with me and I will not be "stranded" by any stretch of the imagination.  Nonetheless, I laugh as I pack things like laundry detergent.  Yes, I know they sell laundry detergent in Tel Aviv.  They sell everything in Tel Aviv.  Yet someone in someway my laundry detergent is some silly familiar attachment that I have.  With three weeks before my departure I am stockpiling physical items that I've told myself I'll appreciate when I am "stranded" in Israel: Pure Minerals makeup, Ricola cough drops, Essential Oils.  While I gain some entertainment from this exercise I'm in shock at the amount of material possessions I've accumulated over my lifetime.  Despite the purging of miscellaneous and random items from my basement, garage, and cabinets I still own a shocking amount of clothing.  And since I am going to the middle east where I will be rejoicing at what they call winter, I do not even need the heavy reminders of hibernation season in Chicago.  Still, I pack up shirt after shirt and listen to my internal voice struggle in dialogue.  "Oh, this is cute.  You haven't worn it in a while.  You'll totally wear this in Israel" (enter random article of clothing into suitcase) "Sheree, if you dare buy another article of clothing in Israel your closet will explode.  This better be worth the shlep."  This conversation continues until I weigh my first piece of luggage and laugh at the prospect that the entire content will account for my 100 allotted pounds.  "Ha" "yeah right" "better downsize, girl."  The truth is that I have no idea what I will or will not want other than my dog, Indi.  She is a given and completely worth the $225 fee each way.  And since I have also convinced myself that I will be living like I am poor next year, I really do not want to pay to replace anything that I already own and have spent money on (I am certain that further elaboration on living in poverty will follow as I receive my Israeli salary).  This random stream of consciousness has boomeranged me right back to the concept of Attachments.  I've already detached from my townhouse, my job, and most of my large physical belongings and soon it will be time to part with my car ("oh how I will miss your convenience").  Somehow I am reassured that once I step foot into my September apartment in the heart of Tel Aviv and drop my bags, I will know that all the preparation was worth it.  I plan to have an amazing year.                 












 

Detaching

While I generally subscribe to the belief that at the core people's personalities do not significantly change, I do believe that we can shed our skin as snakes do.  With snakes, this process can happen multiple times a year and is dependent on many environmental factors such as temperature, hormones, age, food, and activity level.  Their skin serves as a protective barrier from the external elements and represent their identity (species, age, size etc.).  The snake lives within its skin until the environmental variables signal that it is time for the snake to literally slide out of the old skin.  Nature makes this possible by producing new skin and the snake then detaches and disconnects from the old skin, sliding out in one swift motion to exhibit its new bright exterior to the world.

A rebirth so to speak.  A new stage in the lifecycle.  More room for growth.    

The human existential equivalent has been happening for me over the past few months.  Slowly over time, I have been shedding my skin and am waiting to exhibit my new bright exterior.  Detaching from my comfortable home, job, routines, and belongings brought low levels of anxiety and uncertainty.  Among many things that I cannot even account for at this time, I am preparing for the upcoming  detachment from my American salary, family, vehicle, and prevalence of English.  The environment that I have been existing in for years is about to be redefined and over the next 59 days, I will shed my snake skin and reveal myself 6,000 miles away in Israel.