Day 12 – Israeli Washing Powders and Ugly Birds

Husband is complaining he is tired, poor thing.  Says he can’t sleep at night what with the stress of us being homeless, impending arrival of new baby and Jojo waking up.  (He doesn’t like sleeping in his cot here, still a bit unsettled from all the change.)  I told him the only reason I am sleeping so well is the sheer exhaustion of pregnancy combined with unending heat, and he will have to manage somehow, after all I am the one who usually suffers insomnia! Still, he is wonderful about night duty so I am not planning to trade him in just yet.

Have been using israeli washing powder now for almost 2 weeks, and I have to say I think our clothes would react better to hydrochloric acid.  I remember binning most of my clothes after my gap year, thinking I was just rather crap at doing laundry, and wishing I had paid more attention to my mum when she was chatting about spin cycles and things.  Turns out it wasn’t me after all.  We have now made the link between doing laundry here and holes in our clothes.  Not to mention the fading.  This is a very dramatic leap for me, who previously only used eco-options with vinegar or lemon.  I spotted some Ariel in supersol the other day, with a generous discount and lots of english writing on it so I grabbed it in desperation.  Can’t wait til my soapnuts turn up in the shipment (oh the glamorous life of a housewife).

This morning we pay a visit to the WIZO Gan, which I am informed has a discount for olim doing ulpan.  Jojo seems a little shy there at first, but there are a lot more children so I couldn’t really blame him.  Luckily kids don’t really notice such things as old buildings, strip lighting or faded toys.  I noticed that the women were very loving with the kids, which is the most important thing in my opinion.  It was obviously not as glamorous as the mishpachton option, but the kids did seem happy, the meals looked healthy enough and the whole place was getting a thorough clean.  We went to talk to the manager about signing Jojo up for September who informed us that we both have to do ulpan simulatneously to receive the generous discount.  I thought perhaps she hasn’t noticed I was pregnant (who I am kidding, I have a watermelon under my blouse for goodness sake) so I drew her attention to it and asked if there was some sort of exception as I clearly could not start full time ulpan just before my due date.  I didn’t quite understand the reasoning as despite my reminding her I am an olah chadasha she couldn’t seem to speak slowly, but it was something to do with strict government guidelines.  So here’s the bad news folks, even if you have a newborn baby, your mum used to work for WIZO, your mother in law has worked to raise goodness knows how much money for them and you yourself have been to the odd WIZO fundraiser, there aint nothing they can do for you.  Bummer to that.

The other problem was that the full fee covers 6 days a week, 7am til 4pm, and I am not ready to let my little one go for that long just yet.  18 months is still “little” to my mind, so I would prefer he were at home with me at least half day.  If he’s going to learn bad habits anywhere, I prefer he learn them from me.

Entering the canyon (mall) we spot a couple of those stands selling brands of Judaism that we might not have previously considered.  We see a Lubavitcher from Latvia helping a huge beefy bald bloke with enormous tattoos and a goatie lay tefillin.  Absolutely fabulous.   We are truly one people.

In Superspol we felt decidedly yok-like purchasing a chicken there.  Now I know how the local watford massive feel buying chickens in Tesco for £2.50.  The difference in price to what I am used to is unbelivable,  at 15 shekel they work out just over one quarter of the price I would pay in London.  I was so shocked that I asked the guy behind the counter if there was anything wrong with them as they were so cheap.  “Cheap?” He says.  “We had 10 shekel ones earlier, you missed those”.  Wow.  Can’t imagine what those ones looked like.  My guess is they didn’t have the most fulfilling life, but let’s not think about that for now.  I told him I would normally pay the equivalent of about 60 shekels.  He smiled at me and welcomed me to Israel.

One problem though.  It’s not as pretty as I am used to.  I mean it really looks like a chicken, bits sticking out of it, funny colour and evidence of feathers.  Not like the shiny clean ones I am used to in their neat packets.  A friend of ours, who kindly shlepped up to welcome us from Tel Aviv informs me that he himself purchased a similarly ugly bird a few weeks back, and it was fine once he roasted it.  It seems I may have to abandon my usual healthy fresh herb-and-spice concotions and pour some sort of Israeli Rotev (sauce) over it to avoid touching the thing completely. 

Oh how the mighty have fallen.