Tonight was Shavuot. How did we in the ulpan celebrate this significant religious holiday? By going to Jerusalem to get drunk. Israel is a wonderful country for its religious, cultural and political value…and also for its lower drinking age.
I went with 9 other people: 2 American boys, 1 German boy, 1 South African boy, and 5 assorted Slavic boys. Yes, I was the only girl. The boy-girl ratio here in the ulpan is so terrible that I’m suffering the consequences for it. You know, I used to say that I didn’t normally enjoy the company of most other girls (mostly because I don’t like too many “girly” things, and I hate shopping), but now that I’m having a serious shortage of fellow girls here in Israel, it’s really making me wish that there were more girls here. We could have a girly night and paint each other’s nails and watch chick flicks and talk about boysssssssss!. Oh Jesus, what’s happening to me…..???
What was really interesting is that one of the assorted Slavs was the boy who got kicked off the kibbutz (but got put back on) for drinking problems. And—now this is really impressive—he did not drink a single drop of alcohol tonight. I think that’s worth applauding….
So anyway, we get to Jerusalem and we go to a liquor store near Ben Yehuda Street. And it’s like we’re a herd of water buffalo, we’re so fucking noisy. A man with crooked teeth helped us… I went to go pay for what I had chosen, and the lady behind the counter says to me in Hebrew, “How old are you?” I responded that I was 19, and she didn’t even ask me for ID or anything. Which I thought was weird. If she was suspicious enough to ask me how old I was (which she didn’t do to anyone else), then why did she just believe me when I said I was 19?
The boys purchased what was essentially a fucking enormous jug of cheap vodka, and I purchased my usual girly drink of Smirnoff Ice. We sat down near a row of bus stops, and the boys proceeded to get drunk. Really, really drunk. It was sort of interesting to be with a crowd of drunk boys in Jerusalem about a block away from the Old City….. Is this what I came to Israel for?
Anyway, juice was had, cigarettes were consumed by those who smoke, and Fish Jerky was passed around. A festive time was had by all.
It was sort of weird. Apart from me and the South African, everyone was an immigrant. And somehow the way we were having a night out made me feel like an immigrant. I can’t really explain it. Something about the cheap vodka, the yelling in a foreign language, the smell of the fish jerky, and the fact that we were all huddled in a clump outside. I can’t explain it.
After we were all good and drunk (except for me and the recovering alcoholic), we went into this Russian pub, which was one of the most bizarre places I’ve ever seen. It looked like everyone was dancing “The Twist” to a remix of the Tetris theme for like 3 hours. Later on we were planning on going to an actual club, but I kind of wanted to stay here because I felt this was the only place in the world where I actually stood a chance at being accepted as a decent dancer.
This might give you an idea of what it was like....
My group moves to the back of the pub—we’re not even there a full minute—and I get punched in the nose. By the South African. Yes, you read that right. He was so drunk that when he went in to give a sloppy drunk man-hug to the German, who was right in front of me, he ended up punching me in the nose. So hard that I started bleeding. Not a gusher, but definitely large drops of blood.
That should have been our cue that the South African had had enough. Oh no. Oh no. he had more. And then he was throwing up all over the bathroom. We had to pull him out of the pub during a remix of the Tetris theme that I was particularly enjoying, and we watched as he continued to throw up on the streets of Jerusalem in plain view of the orthodox folk walking home from holiday celebrations. It was great, because the boys were getting dirty looks from orthodox girls walking by, while I was getting dirty looks from the passing orthodox men for being the girl in this bunch of dirty boys.
We called a taxi and I accompanied the drunken South African and a drunken American. The drunken South African managed to throw up all over the side of the taxi.
Being the only girl in a group of 10 was pretty awesome until I had to start acting like everyone’s mother—steadying the boys who kept falling into the traffic on Jerusalem’s streets, speaking Hebrew to the taxi driver instead of the American boy who is fluent but who is so drunk that he forgot Hebrew, trying to shush the drunken South African who kept demanding “mayyiiiiiiiiiiiiim” from the taxi driver, etc etc.
My point in relating all of this? Well, you have to first understand that the South African is in the same boat I am—He’s roughly the same age, with absolutely no family in Israel. Not a single relative. Actually, the South African is in an even worse boat: he speaks almost no Hebrew.
So, I’m sorry, maybe this is just me being stupid, but shouldn’t that mean that the South African should take extra special care of himself? I mean if, G-d forbid, something bad happens to him while he’s shit-faced, there’s no one here for him. His nearest relative is a several hour plane ride away. I’m not saying that it means he can’t get drunk in Israel at all, because I know I’ve already done that, but he needs to learn his fucking limit and if he can’t control himself he needs to get someone to limit him or something.
My general irritation here is that people in this ulpan think we’re in Never Never Land and that they’ll never have to grow up. We have the South African drinking out of control in order to have a fun night out….. and he constantly complains that there is no ATM on the kibbutz, which makes life “impossible” because then he keeps spending all his money on the kibbutz and not being able to take the bus to get off the kibbutz to get to the ATM at the local mall. I mean, it’s really not a problem. You just make sure to get money every time you get off the kibbutz and when you come back you just have to make sure that, even if you spend all your other money on booze (as this guy does), you have to save 7.70 shekels for the bus fare. But this retarded South African guy just can’t manage not to spend that extra—what is is, two dollars?—on booze, and he ends up getting stuck on the kibbutz until he can coax someone into giving him bus fare to the mall. I mean, grow the fuck up already! If you’re not old enough to take care of yourself, you shouldn’t be thousands of miles away from your nearest relative!
Earlier we had a guy who was a college graduate and had been working on his own for a year at a high-paying office job, and he came here and started acting like a teenager, tormenting some of the weaker boys. We have a 28 year old cutting off everyone in class like a know-it-all five year old. I mean seriously people, Peter Pan’s not coming by anytime soon to teach you all to fly, so you might as well all act your fucking age!
I can't leave you without more Russian bizarre-ities:
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