I'm a laundress.

Holy fucking balls. I work in the laundry. I fold laundry. All friggin day. Just folding laundry. The woman who works at the laundry place tried to show me how to fold things correctly, but she didn't know how because, "This is not job of mine." She works in a laundry room and doesn't know how to fold clothing. Why? Because HER job is to just put stuff away. And ONLY to put stuff away. My job is to fold. And ONLY to fold.

Good news? I'm in level bet for ulpan.

Here's what I wrote from Day Two:

There are a shit ton of Russians and various Slavic peoples here! Holy mother of god, they’re fuckin everywhere! When I’m around them, I like to observe their behavior because the Jewish side of my family comes from Russia/Poland/Ukraine (the most recent American immigrant in my family came in the 1900’s….) and I sometimes wonder what we would have been like had we never come to the US. Maybe we’d still be in Eastern Europe, maybe we’d not exist anymore, maybe we’d have come to the US later on anyway---or maybe, in an alternate universe, my entire family would have come with me to Israel, instead of me being completely fucking alone in a foreign country.

So what have I observed from my distant cousins here in the kibbutz ulpan? Jesus Christ, I’m related to perverts! I don’t mean to stereotype, and I’m sure there are some very lovely Russian people, but unfortunately none of them made it to this kibbutz. Most of the time they’re just groping us girls (there are 7 girls in the ulpan and 25 guys…the odds are in our favor, ladies!), but tonight I accidentally walked in on the “First Annual Outdoor Russian Farting Contest.” That’s not what they called it, but that’s what I’m calling it. Basically the Russians and the Ukranian gathered around in a circle and farted, trying to beat each other. Outdoor farting is kind of a bizarre way of communing with nature. I mean, I think farts are as funny just as the next girl with older brothers does, but there’s a time and place for everything.

Anyway….last night I was sleeping, but woke up. It was the time of night where it’s right before dawn, but it’s still dark and there’s no way in hell you’re gonna get up. And I heard off in the distance that Muslim prayer call thing. You know? Where some guy is belting the greatest hits into a loud speaker? I mean, I’ve heard it before. I took Arabic in college, it’s not like I didn’t know it existed. I knew what it was. But for some reason it scared the shit out of me last night. It was horribly creepy, because it was echoing across the valley, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home so badly. I mean, I’m trying to think of the worst moments I’ve ever experienced when I was away at summer camp or away at college, and I don’t think anything ever made me feel as desperate to go home as that noise echoing across the valley. It made me think of how when my littlest dog howls, it is the saddest thing in the world and you feel like you would do anything just to make it stop.
In any case, I feel much better now. I think I’ll still be very glad to see my familia in June when they visit me for my birthday (and my mother is bringing with her my proof of Judaism so that I can get my CITIZENSHIP, as was our agreement).


Before I say what confuses me about Israel or before I say something slightly critical (it’s not that critical—it’s about toilets here. If Israel can’t handle criticism about her toilets, then I don’t want to live here anyway), I think I should be a little serious. I think I should put down in writing exactly one of the many reasons I want to live here. I think things are gonna be total shit from time to time, so I think I need something to look at to remind me that I really want to be here.

Story number one of why I want to live here:

In religious school around age 7 or so we were each given a topic on Israel to research. I was given Haifa. At the age of 7, I decided that I had personal ownership of Haifa, because I put together a little report on it (Probably not more than “Haifa is a city. Haifa is in Israel. Haifa is nice.”) It’s amazing what feelings of ownership a stupid little report can create. This probably sounds stupid. But oh well. Anyway, in the summer of 2006 I was on a cruise with my family right before I was to go to college for the first time when, as well all know, some serious shit went down in Israel. And so my family and I watched coverage of this whenever we could.

Anyway, I remember Shepard Smith (my favorite Fox News anchor, whose show I miss very dearly while I’ve been here) was in Haifa to cover the news. Look, I don’t know exactly where rockets were falling or whatever, but the TV told me it was in Haifa and there was video of rockets exploding in (what the said was) Haifa. And I felt personally violated. Like, every action against Israel up until then had been a violation against this large group that I belonged to, but THIS was personal because I felt that this was MY town.

If you know me, you know that I don't take personal assaults very well. So I am now in Israel. Not a citizen, but not quite a tourist. Perhaps the silliest part of all of this is that, to this day, I STILL have never been to Haifa.

More stories to follow....
Anyway, I don’t want to be so serious. I want to tell you about the toilets here. They have two flush options—one for liquids, one for solids. Except I noticed that all the toilets have a slightly yellowish liquid in the base area. Does flushing not remove the pee? And if flushing does not have enough power to remove simple, harmless pee, then what hope does it have for more serious matter(s)? Serious research to follow.