Do any of you have parents who were constantly taking home movies (or videos if you're of a younger generation...) when you were growing up? If so, I URGE you to get them transferred to DVD (or some other even more sophisticated media that I'm not even aware of). My brother rescued old reel movies from our home a few years ago and I was just watching one of the DVDs. It's sooooo precious:
My older brother and I flinging ourselves into snowbanks during the blizzard of '77-'78. ------ Me giving my baby brother a kiss as he pushes me out of the way. ------And the one that made me say, "Ohhhh myyyy godddd": Me during one of my tap dancing lessons when I was about 5. Leotard, tights, and all. ------ Seeing our living room carpeting before it got completely flattened by many years of wear and tear. --- Movies of us on playground equipment that would be considered hideously dangerous and downright illegal these days.
It's all great stuff and priceless, so make sure to get all your movies onto digital media before it's too late!
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Hygiene standards
Where to get a pedicure?
Okay, so finding a good place for pedicures, waxing, etc. maybe isn't as big a deal as say, having an appropriate bomb shelter in your house, but it is a big deal. It's precisely things like pedicures that keep us sane when we're living in a stressful foreign environment.
A year after moving here, I still haven't found a decent salon. The first one I went to was in the nicest hotel in this area and it felt less than perfectly clean. The chair looked like it needed a serious wipe-down and the room was more like a decrepit hospital room than a relaxing salon/spa haven. Friends has similarly discouraging experiences at other salons and I eventually resorted to having a lady come to my house. At least then I knew things were clean.
A few days ago, I wanted to get some waxing done. My trusty lady didn't return my call, so I ventured out to a nearby salon. I had been there before and it was o-kay, but again, the place was not pristine and the lady didn't even close the door entirely.
I walked in, but no one was available, so I ventured to a salon across the street. They were able to accommodate me. I walked into the waxing room and the sheets on the bed clearly had not been changed very recently. I was hoping the lady was going to change them, but the best she did was brush them off. YUCK. But, I just told myself, "Okay, this is how it is in this country. This is how they do things. So, I'll just deal with it."
When she finished, she gave me copious amounts of aloe to soothe the waxed area. And you know what I did, I made sure I "accidentally" spread about 60% of it on the sheets so that they'd be obligated to change them for the next person. My little contribution to the common good that day.
Okay, so finding a good place for pedicures, waxing, etc. maybe isn't as big a deal as say, having an appropriate bomb shelter in your house, but it is a big deal. It's precisely things like pedicures that keep us sane when we're living in a stressful foreign environment.
A year after moving here, I still haven't found a decent salon. The first one I went to was in the nicest hotel in this area and it felt less than perfectly clean. The chair looked like it needed a serious wipe-down and the room was more like a decrepit hospital room than a relaxing salon/spa haven. Friends has similarly discouraging experiences at other salons and I eventually resorted to having a lady come to my house. At least then I knew things were clean.
A few days ago, I wanted to get some waxing done. My trusty lady didn't return my call, so I ventured out to a nearby salon. I had been there before and it was o-kay, but again, the place was not pristine and the lady didn't even close the door entirely.
I walked in, but no one was available, so I ventured to a salon across the street. They were able to accommodate me. I walked into the waxing room and the sheets on the bed clearly had not been changed very recently. I was hoping the lady was going to change them, but the best she did was brush them off. YUCK. But, I just told myself, "Okay, this is how it is in this country. This is how they do things. So, I'll just deal with it."
When she finished, she gave me copious amounts of aloe to soothe the waxed area. And you know what I did, I made sure I "accidentally" spread about 60% of it on the sheets so that they'd be obligated to change them for the next person. My little contribution to the common good that day.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Escape From Italy
It's true that we didn't want to leave Sicily. And, in fact, I almost didn't make it out of Italy.
Sweetie was headed elsewhere after our trip, so I was on my own for the flights back to Israel. We arrived at Palermo's airport at about 4AM for my 6AM flight. Only to find out that my flight was cancelled. Lovely.
The good news was that they put me on an only slightly later flight to Rome, that would still theoretically give me enough time to catch my flight to Israel.
As the time came to go through security at Palermo, I unloaded all my water onto Sweetie since there were signs about the dreaded liquids rule. We didn't face that coming to Italy, so I wasn't 100% certain it would apply on the return flight, but it did.
After my bag went through the x-ray, the security guy grabbed it and said, "Botella." And I was like, "No......" and then it dawned on me.....we had placed a very nice bottle of Sicilian wine in my carryon. UG!!!!!! What a waste. Luckilly, Sweetie was still watching from afar and I waved him down and the security guard escorted me to Sweetie so I could unload the bottle. At least he was able to give it to someone who might appreciate it (turned out to be the lucky folks at Avis).
So...........that tragic loss of a good bottle of wine out of the way, I was able to board my flight to Rome.
The flight was uneventful except for the lady sitting next to me crying as she talked about living in the US vs. Italy (many of her relatives live in Sicily, though her parents emigrated to the US). She was very helpful in that she told me if I had to go through security again and wait in a massive line, to just push my way in from the side. That's how the locals do it.
Upon arrival at Rome, I followed the signs for "Transfers." And they most unfortunately led me to a mass of people the likes of which I have never seen in an airport. This was at passport control. I was flabbergasted that people actually had to go through passport control when they had PLANES TO CATCH. I estimate there were 1,000 people there, give or take 200. Okay, maybe it was only 500.
I tried to line up in what I assessed to be the shortest line -- only about 100 people in it. But then one of those stupid golf cart things tried to come through the masses. HEL-LO. There was just nowhere to go. The driver got stuck on a corner as she tried to turn with a wall on one side and 1,000 people on the other. I, unfortunately, was in the immediate vicinity of this and she actually ran over my toe. The hazards of travel.
Anyway, it was clear I was not going to get anywhere near passport control within the next say, ten days. And my flight was in 90 minutes. Some people were showing their ticket and moving ahead in the line. But, I decided this was for sissies. My strategy was to not make eye contact with anyone, as I simply shamelessly line-jumped about 50 people at a time (constantly switching lines). Out of the corner of my eyes I sensed a few dirty looks, but no one actually said anything. Frankly, I was astonished that EVERYONE wasn't trying to do this. I don't know how there wasn't a full-blown riot. Maybe everyone else had a 12 hour layover and nothing better to do. I do not know.
Anyway, after I had line-jumped to within 30 people of the front of one line, I noticed that a new line was about to open and I was perfectly positioned to slide right into that. Which I did. Five minutes later I was on my way to my gate. Phew.
I thought the worst was over. Then I arrived at the El Al (Israeli national airline, with the tightest security of any airline in the world) counter. There was a note that transiting passengers must check in at the "Security Desk" before getting their boarding pass. Hmm...that sounded ominous.
I was interrogated by a young woman:
I pulled out my assortment of letters from the Embassy attesting to my status in Israel. She asked if she could call the Embassy. Sure, I said. So, she did. I was told to sit in the waiting area.
So, there I sat, and sat and sat. While the girl was on the phone for about 20 minutes. SURELY there are better targets for them to waste time on. Though, to be fair, there was a heavily tattooed American guy wearing a studded dog collar who was being similarly delayed.
About 40 minutes after arriving at the ticket counter, I finally had the magic piece of paper clearing me to board. But, the fun and games were not over yet. I had to present myself for an inspection of my CHECKED baggage.
So, I and a motley crew of random folks (including an Israeli lady with several small children) were led into the bowels of the airport, down a freight elevator, and onto the tarmac where our suitcases were waiting. We each had to open our suitcase up, go through every nook and cranny, and assure the staff that everything in it was ours. Lots of fun. I felt slightly less disgruntled after watching the lady with the kids try to restuff one of her suitcases while various assorted clothing items were popping out from all sides. And hey, the good news was that at least my bag was THERE and not in Monaco.
Anyway, it was all over and I finally boarded the plane (about 30 minutes after it was scheduled to depart).
Soooooooooooo, that was quite a bit of hassle just to get home from vacation!! Security for flights has gotten so out of control that I don't even see how anyone can feasibly fly anymore. You can only take a tiny ziploc bag of liquids on the plane, you have to pull that out of your carryon and have it screened separately even though others are telling you all your carryon items must fit in one bag and you must prove it by shoving them all into one bag at security even though security then tells you to pull them back out, you have to take off shoes, belts, etc. If you're flying El Al, you're subjected to a lengthy interrogation, as are DIPLOMATS in EMBASSIES on your behalf who surely have more important things to do....where is it going to stop? Are we going to have to board planes naked?
Sweetie was headed elsewhere after our trip, so I was on my own for the flights back to Israel. We arrived at Palermo's airport at about 4AM for my 6AM flight. Only to find out that my flight was cancelled. Lovely.
The good news was that they put me on an only slightly later flight to Rome, that would still theoretically give me enough time to catch my flight to Israel.
As the time came to go through security at Palermo, I unloaded all my water onto Sweetie since there were signs about the dreaded liquids rule. We didn't face that coming to Italy, so I wasn't 100% certain it would apply on the return flight, but it did.
After my bag went through the x-ray, the security guy grabbed it and said, "Botella." And I was like, "No......" and then it dawned on me.....we had placed a very nice bottle of Sicilian wine in my carryon. UG!!!!!! What a waste. Luckilly, Sweetie was still watching from afar and I waved him down and the security guard escorted me to Sweetie so I could unload the bottle. At least he was able to give it to someone who might appreciate it (turned out to be the lucky folks at Avis).
So...........that tragic loss of a good bottle of wine out of the way, I was able to board my flight to Rome.
The flight was uneventful except for the lady sitting next to me crying as she talked about living in the US vs. Italy (many of her relatives live in Sicily, though her parents emigrated to the US). She was very helpful in that she told me if I had to go through security again and wait in a massive line, to just push my way in from the side. That's how the locals do it.
Upon arrival at Rome, I followed the signs for "Transfers." And they most unfortunately led me to a mass of people the likes of which I have never seen in an airport. This was at passport control. I was flabbergasted that people actually had to go through passport control when they had PLANES TO CATCH. I estimate there were 1,000 people there, give or take 200. Okay, maybe it was only 500.
I tried to line up in what I assessed to be the shortest line -- only about 100 people in it. But then one of those stupid golf cart things tried to come through the masses. HEL-LO. There was just nowhere to go. The driver got stuck on a corner as she tried to turn with a wall on one side and 1,000 people on the other. I, unfortunately, was in the immediate vicinity of this and she actually ran over my toe. The hazards of travel.
Anyway, it was clear I was not going to get anywhere near passport control within the next say, ten days. And my flight was in 90 minutes. Some people were showing their ticket and moving ahead in the line. But, I decided this was for sissies. My strategy was to not make eye contact with anyone, as I simply shamelessly line-jumped about 50 people at a time (constantly switching lines). Out of the corner of my eyes I sensed a few dirty looks, but no one actually said anything. Frankly, I was astonished that EVERYONE wasn't trying to do this. I don't know how there wasn't a full-blown riot. Maybe everyone else had a 12 hour layover and nothing better to do. I do not know.
Anyway, after I had line-jumped to within 30 people of the front of one line, I noticed that a new line was about to open and I was perfectly positioned to slide right into that. Which I did. Five minutes later I was on my way to my gate. Phew.
I thought the worst was over. Then I arrived at the El Al (Israeli national airline, with the tightest security of any airline in the world) counter. There was a note that transiting passengers must check in at the "Security Desk" before getting their boarding pass. Hmm...that sounded ominous.
I was interrogated by a young woman:
- Do you speak Hebrew?
- What were you doing in Italy?
- Where did you stay?
- What, you stayed in the same place for two weeks??
- Where did you go in Sicily?
- Did you take pictures? Can I see them? [at which point I had to dig my camera out of my bag and she went through my 200-some digital pictures]
- Why are you going to Israel?
- Why don't you have a diplomatic visa? [I decided "Cuz your *&%$# country won't give me one" probably wasn't the best answer]
I pulled out my assortment of letters from the Embassy attesting to my status in Israel. She asked if she could call the Embassy. Sure, I said. So, she did. I was told to sit in the waiting area.
So, there I sat, and sat and sat. While the girl was on the phone for about 20 minutes. SURELY there are better targets for them to waste time on. Though, to be fair, there was a heavily tattooed American guy wearing a studded dog collar who was being similarly delayed.
About 40 minutes after arriving at the ticket counter, I finally had the magic piece of paper clearing me to board. But, the fun and games were not over yet. I had to present myself for an inspection of my CHECKED baggage.
So, I and a motley crew of random folks (including an Israeli lady with several small children) were led into the bowels of the airport, down a freight elevator, and onto the tarmac where our suitcases were waiting. We each had to open our suitcase up, go through every nook and cranny, and assure the staff that everything in it was ours. Lots of fun. I felt slightly less disgruntled after watching the lady with the kids try to restuff one of her suitcases while various assorted clothing items were popping out from all sides. And hey, the good news was that at least my bag was THERE and not in Monaco.
Anyway, it was all over and I finally boarded the plane (about 30 minutes after it was scheduled to depart).
Soooooooooooo, that was quite a bit of hassle just to get home from vacation!! Security for flights has gotten so out of control that I don't even see how anyone can feasibly fly anymore. You can only take a tiny ziploc bag of liquids on the plane, you have to pull that out of your carryon and have it screened separately even though others are telling you all your carryon items must fit in one bag and you must prove it by shoving them all into one bag at security even though security then tells you to pull them back out, you have to take off shoes, belts, etc. If you're flying El Al, you're subjected to a lengthy interrogation, as are DIPLOMATS in EMBASSIES on your behalf who surely have more important things to do....where is it going to stop? Are we going to have to board planes naked?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Posts in Japanese
Just a note -- I am writing some posts in Japanese for my friends in Japan. So, if something looks funny or text is missing, it's probably just in Japanese.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Sicily - final days
I had read several favorable reviews of Osteria del Duomo - a restaurant at the foot of the cathedral in Cefalu. We had an 8PM reservation, so we wondered the streets of Cefalu for a bit before then.
We noticed many more old buildings and ruins. I loved seeing all the elderly watching street activity from their balconies. We passed a very rotund chef sitting on a bench talking to a little boy. We saw a boy and girl sitting and playing on the steps of a Megalithic structure on the sea wall. There was a very shy and suspicious cat playing with an old water fountain. As we wondered the more residential streets, we heard the sounds of someone practicing a musical instrument. And as darkness fell, I could see inside people's homes, the ancient vaulted yet low ceilings, old television sets in very simple kitchen/dining areas -- some protected from the outside only by a beaded curtain.
We wandered to the restaurant, and upon arrival, it was clear to us that a "reservation" simply meant that you took your pick of the leftover tables.
Not a great start.
The menu was completely unimaginative, in contrast to what was stated in my Fodor's guide. It was clear to me that tourists who have written reviews on tripadvisor.com and Fodors alike have confused this place with the Cafe Duomo across the street.
There was not enough wait staff, especially considering that rather than make people wait, they just kept erecting more tables outside the designated patio area. So, in the end, there were two people handling about 15 tables. They got my order wrong and Sweetie's meat had a huge piece of gristle.
But, it was a great setting in front of the cathedral and we enjoyed the piano player.
Afterwards, I went to the pastry shop across the street and picked up something that looked very traditional. It was sooooooo rum-soaked that I really had to struggle to eat it.
Anyway, we then sat on the steps of the Duomo for a bit, as this was clearly the thing to do. We had seen countless people wander up and sit on the steps during our dinner, so that's what we did as well.
The next day
On our final day in Sicily, we simply lounged around our bungalow, sat on its spacious deck overlooking the Med, and enjoyed our last meals at Calanica. We were sad to see our vacation coming to an end, and were already talking about going back...
We noticed many more old buildings and ruins. I loved seeing all the elderly watching street activity from their balconies. We passed a very rotund chef sitting on a bench talking to a little boy. We saw a boy and girl sitting and playing on the steps of a Megalithic structure on the sea wall. There was a very shy and suspicious cat playing with an old water fountain. As we wondered the more residential streets, we heard the sounds of someone practicing a musical instrument. And as darkness fell, I could see inside people's homes, the ancient vaulted yet low ceilings, old television sets in very simple kitchen/dining areas -- some protected from the outside only by a beaded curtain.
We wandered to the restaurant, and upon arrival, it was clear to us that a "reservation" simply meant that you took your pick of the leftover tables.
Not a great start.
The menu was completely unimaginative, in contrast to what was stated in my Fodor's guide. It was clear to me that tourists who have written reviews on tripadvisor.com and Fodors alike have confused this place with the Cafe Duomo across the street.
There was not enough wait staff, especially considering that rather than make people wait, they just kept erecting more tables outside the designated patio area. So, in the end, there were two people handling about 15 tables. They got my order wrong and Sweetie's meat had a huge piece of gristle.
But, it was a great setting in front of the cathedral and we enjoyed the piano player.
Afterwards, I went to the pastry shop across the street and picked up something that looked very traditional. It was sooooooo rum-soaked that I really had to struggle to eat it.
Anyway, we then sat on the steps of the Duomo for a bit, as this was clearly the thing to do. We had seen countless people wander up and sit on the steps during our dinner, so that's what we did as well.
The next day
On our final day in Sicily, we simply lounged around our bungalow, sat on its spacious deck overlooking the Med, and enjoyed our last meals at Calanica. We were sad to see our vacation coming to an end, and were already talking about going back...
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
鳳の昔
昨日とても久しぶりに茶道の濃茶点前をしました。こちらではかせの勉強をしている日本人の友達に来てもらいました。彼が京都大学にいたとき、裏千家の今日庵にお稽古に通っていたのです。彼が鳳の昔という柳桜園の濃茶を持ってきてくれました。まず彼に濃茶手前をしていただきました。私の家の地下にある茶室（ただ畳を引いた普通の部屋です）の光がそのときちょうど良く、茶入れからまわしだされてきた抹茶が湯気みたいに見えて、そして釜からも本当に湯気が飛んでいました。とても素晴らしかったです。そして、もう一人の｢茶人｣と一緒においしい濃茶を畳に上で、このクレージーな国で頂けて、何よりでした。一期一会です。茶道に感謝しています。
Thursday, July 19, 2007
いらいら
ちょっと日本語で書こうと思って。。。
私は3月から車がなくていつも歩いて行動します。今週からとても暑くなって、とてもきつくなりました。日本の暑さよりもきつい暑さですね。日差しが非常に強いです。夕方の5時でもまだまだです。
暑さを別にして、私を最もいらいらさせることは車がいっぱい歩道に止まっていることです。それだけではなく、沢山の人はちゃんと自分の庭にある木や植物をぜんぜん切ってなくて、とても歩道を邪魔しています。私は結局道を歩くしかないのです。
ほかの人のことを考えて行動する日本人とかなり違います。でも、沖縄にもよく人が車を道に止めて、自動販売機でジュースを買っていましたね。其れは時間がたってから納得できることでしたが、こちらのイスラエルのいらいらさせることをいつか納得でけるのでしょうか。
私は3月から車がなくていつも歩いて行動します。今週からとても暑くなって、とてもきつくなりました。日本の暑さよりもきつい暑さですね。日差しが非常に強いです。夕方の5時でもまだまだです。
暑さを別にして、私を最もいらいらさせることは車がいっぱい歩道に止まっていることです。それだけではなく、沢山の人はちゃんと自分の庭にある木や植物をぜんぜん切ってなくて、とても歩道を邪魔しています。私は結局道を歩くしかないのです。
ほかの人のことを考えて行動する日本人とかなり違います。でも、沖縄にもよく人が車を道に止めて、自動販売機でジュースを買っていましたね。其れは時間がたってから納得できることでしたが、こちらのイスラエルのいらいらさせることをいつか納得でけるのでしょうか。
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)