My Life in Israel...Today

First, let me say, that I cannot begin to imagine what life must be like in Southern Israel right now.  They are receiving regular if not constant incoming rockets, I am sure that the air raid sirens are regular and I have read most folks are just staying inside.  That for them is apparently a pretty normal life.  The Big Duck visited a southern town a couple months ago, and said it was amazing. The threat of incoming rockets is so constant, that they have an entire generation of children that have never played outside, been to the playground or kicked a soccer ball.  Additionally, over 50% of the children suffer from some form of PTSD.  They literally go from home, to a bus stop that is also a bomb shelter to bus to school, which is also a huge bunker and then repeat on the way home.  They never go outside.  This is a life I cannot imagine.  If the air raid sirens do go off, they have about 15 seconds to seek cover.  And, to be fair, Gaza is, I am sure, no picnic either.  The level of poverty is incredible and the people are pretty much fenced in everywhere.  I guess the fences went up around Gaza and the West Bank to stop the terrorist bombings in Israel. It has been effective, but has cut the Palestinians off from a lot of the things they need to live.  So, this just adds to the conflict that already exists here in Israel.

Another thing to note, is that Israel is tiny.  You can drive from the Egyptian border to the Lebanon border in a little over 3 hours.  It is 44 miles from Tel Aviv to the Gaza Strip.  Gaza itself, is about 25 miles long, and not more then 7 miles wide.  We live about 50 miles north of Gaza.  Supposedly, the longest range rockets that they have reach about 45 miles.  I am hoping we don't get to test out their maximum range, but we are ready if we do.  Truly, there is not much you can do but take cover, and be glad that the Palestinians aim is a bit haphazard.  Whereas, Israel has precision guided rockets and missiles, the Palestinians fire often "homemade" rockets from a wooden ramp, and operate on the theory of what comes up, must come down.  That is why the live news feed that we keep in touch with reads, "Air raid sirens sounded Siderot." Followed by, "two rockets land in open area" or "iron dome intercepts two rockets" or "rocket lands in garden. No injuries" and so forth.  Lucky for Israel they don't hit much.  This is of course not how it is in Gaza, and there are so many politics involved there that I cannot even pretend to understand, but I do know that when Israel is firing away at Gaza almost all night, there is very little coming our way.

So, in Central Israel, life goes on.  It is not what one watching the news would imagine it is.  Instead, it is pretty normal.  We wake up, send our kids to school, people go to work and things seem pretty much the same as they did last week at this time.  However, at the back of your mind, you are always wondering what will happen next.  I went for my walk today, but I was always listening and always looking for the best place to take cover.  I think that people who have lived here forever, don't even do that.  Everyone seems incredibly relaxed.  I am only kind of relaxed.  We always have the door open or the window cracked.  It is easier to hear the sirens that way.  Our bags are packed just in case and we have a lot of food and water in the house.  I don't worry about my kids.  They are safe at school. I don't even worry about me, I just worry about what I don't know.  What happens next?  Everyone wants to know if we will evacuate.  And I don't know. I think, I would rather stay here with my family then be separated from my husband.  Although at times, Christmas in Colorado sounds pretty nice.

A few times, we have heard the air raid sirens from Tel Aviv.  Last night, we heard the interception of one of the missiles, but didn't hear the siren.  That was freaky.  Always though, we get an email and a phone call making sure we are alright and accounted for.....which thankfully we are.

I have no idea what the next few days will hold. And, I guess that is the most difficult thing.  Yes, it seems silly to be worrying about the 5th grade Thanksgiving party, but turkeys need to be picked up and things need to be done.  I think too, that it is important for the kids to have life as normal as possible.  They know what is going on, and are handling it pretty well.  I think they are a little worried, but are glad we are together.  As the Big Duck said yesterday, "we are getting to live the full Israeli experience."  Lucky us.

I am adding a couple links that you all might find interesting. The 15 seconds video was on my Facebook Account in case you have already seen it.

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/an-open-letter-to-khalil-from-gaza/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsm-mEy38pQ&list=UUawNWlihdgaycQpO3zi-jYg

3 Weeks in Israel or What I Know So Far

It has already been 3 weeks since we arrived in Tel Aviv.  Amazing how fast it has gone.  It feels as though we have been here forever.  That being said, it has been the most boring 3 weeks of my life.  Just after we arrived, all the other Americans began returning to the U.S. for the summer.  That means no kids for the girls to play with.  On top of that, it is hot here.....really hot.  Who knew?  I was prepared for hot, just not the heat with the humidity preventing you from leaving the house between 10am and 4 pm.  And, it is even too hot to go to the beach.  The beach in the photo is the closest to our house. It is beautiful and perfect.  The sand is like silk and it is only a few minutes walk from the house.  However, between the heat and the jellyfish it is just easier to stay home.

We finally saw the jellyfish everyone has been talking about.  They are HUGE.  This is not an exaggeration. They are the size of a persons head.  In France, they were tiny, kind of pretty, little purple things.  In Israel, they are giant white blobs that break into smaller pieces on the beach.  After a few minutes of yelling at the kids to watch where they step, I just had them put their shoes back on.  The big Duck took the Ducklings in the water, and we luckily avoided any stings, but just in case, apple cider vinegar and baking soda are now normal items in my beach bag.

Away from the beach, there has been much to learn about and much to explore.  So far, this is what I know for sure.

1-Hebrew is hard.  It is hard to read, hard to speak and hard to write.  There are no vowels, just little dots and slashes that make a vowelish-like sounds.  Several letters are silent.  I still cannot figure out why an alphabet needs silent letters, but whatever.

2-The people here are really nice.  Everyone is willing to help, and many people speak or at least will try and speak English.  Handy since my Hebrew is still in its formative stage.

3-The drivers are crazy.  Crazy like they are in Naples, Italy.  If you have ever been to Naples, you know what I mean.  They honk like crazy the moment a light changes, and apparently lane lines are just a suggestion.

4-The bread is awesome.  There are all kinds of fresh yummy bread.....whole wheat, with seeds, baguette.  So, so good.  And, I say this in a whisper as I want to be allowed back in France some day, I think the bread here is better.  But, don't tell anyone I said so.

5-The most beautiful sunsets and moonrises I have ever seen.  I will try and get some photos, but trust me.....BEAUTIFUL.

6-Don't go to the beach on Saturday.....Shabbat here.  It is everyones day off, so everyone goes to the beach.  There is a saying here...."all any good jew in Tel Aviv wants is a place in Heaven and a spot on the beach on Shabbat."  I have never seen a beach as crowded as it is here on Shabbat.  On top of all the people, every restaurant is trying to lure people by playing the LOUDEST music, which competes with all the boom boxes.  Finally, there are the life guards.  All the people on the beach are corralled into marked swimming areas.  These areas are marked off by colored flags.  If you swim outside the swimming area they whistle at you.  If you don't heed the whistle, they use a giant loudspeaker to yell at you.  The result of this is all the thousands of people at the beach are sharing a 50 foot stretch of water and all the rest of the water is empty.  It is very strange.

7-The next year will be very, very fun.  How can it not be with all the action around us?

                                       The first of what, I am sure, will be many sand castles.

Snow in Florence, aka Italy wasn't prepared and neither were we

We arrived at Camp Darby with great plans to bowl and eat on base, only to find that the base was pretty much closed due to snow.  It was the first snow fall in something like 30 years.  We were as totally unprepared for this as Italy was.  Dinner therefore was microwaved mac-n-cheese ( and a big bottle of wine) from the base mini-mart.  Thank goodness that was open.

The next day we thought we might go to Florence as it is only an hour away.  As we were leaving base, I was trying to read the road conditions in Florence, "wait," I said, "I think it had black for road conditions in Florence."  "No matter," the Big Duck says, "we are going."  Well, 2 plus hours later we arrived.  The good thing about 8 inches of snow in Florence?  No crowds.  The bad thing, well, none really, unless you are a totally organized parent like myself.  The ducklings had rain boots, but no hat, no gloves and no scarf.  It wasn't really cold, but as I mentioned, 8?!! inches of snow.  So, $150 later the girls had hats, gloves, scarves and mittens.  Still, they only had rain boots.  They would be fine, I figured.  At least their feet would be dry.

What $150 buys hat, mitten and scarf wise in Florence.

Outside the city walls.  Before they got really cold.

The "stairs of death" which lead us down into the city.

Well, they were fine.  Except for the poor littlest duckling.  It has to be hard getting all the hand-me-downs.  Especially when the hand-me-down in question has a tiny hole in the heel.  Luckily, we dodged frost bite...this time anyway....and the next day, added the very classy plastic bag to her fashion repretoire.  All the truly fashionable French kiddos wear plastic bags over their socks and under their rain boots to keep their feet dry.

If for a moment, I forget the incessant whining, of "I am cold, Mommy", it was a pretty good day.  Florence was beautiful.  We saw David.  We had a good lunch.  We have another great memory of time as a family and we will all remember our trip to Florence.  Really,  during the holiday season, there is nothing better then Forced Family Fun, or F cubed as we call it. So to all of my family and friends, may you all survive your own F cubed, and have a wonderful holiday season.

Cantine or How School Lunch Should Be or How to Get 100 Pre-Schoolers to Sit Still

This has been a pretty amazing school year for the Mommacita so far. The littlest Duckling started at the Maternalle (the all-day French pre-school) and since I have been going to French class, all the Ducklings have been attending Cantine or school lunch. Now for any Americans out there you may be thinking big deal, everyone goes to school lunch, but here in France, your child only goes to Cantine, if you work, go to school, or can prove that for some reason,you are unable to pick up your little darlings at 11:30 and return them at 1:30. This is a very effective way to ensure that ones day is broken into two 3 hour blocks, neither of which is long enough to really accomplish anything.

So last year we began completing the copius paperwork to enroll all of the Ducklings in Cantine. Unfortunately, we did not complete it properly, or provide proof of my schooling. This led to us spending many hours rushing around, gathering paperwork so we could stand in line at the school district lunch offices and prove we were worthy enough that our children could attend Cantine. After returning once with our children's birth certificates (yes, birth certificates for lunch) we received approval for our children's lunch room education to begin, and begin it did.

I have always wondered how French families teach their children to behave in restaurants as they don't often take their children out. It turns out, they don't. The school teaches them to behave at the table. As the lunch break is 2 hours, the children have plenty of time to eat and still play. There are no tater tots and hotdogs here, the meal itself consists of 4 courses each of which is served by the lunch room wait staff. (I think this might be why the lunch ladies are always the first to take off on strike days) The first course, or entree (appetizer for you Americans) consists generally of a vegetable, beans or cucumber in a salad. Next, is the plat (main course) which is a meat and rice, potatoes or couscous, followed by a cheese course and then dessert. Dessert is usually a fruit, but can be anything from cake to ice cream. Fridays there is no meat served (Good Catholic country that France is) but eggs are sometimes offered instead of fish. All of this is served with baguette and water. The teachers and aides eat in the same room as the children with the children 6 to a table. There is no messing around tolerated at all.

What amazes me, is that my children like it. And especially for the littlest Duckling, they are trying new things that I could never get them to eat at home. The menu consists of fish, lamb, beef etc. It is varied and it is amazing. Every day the Ducklings return home and share their culinary adventures. They don't love everything but generally they try everything and that is a good thing. Yes, they would rather be home with me, but for now at least, I know that they are eating a nutritious lunch and are learning something in the process. The best part? Instead of being rushed like they would be in the U.S., they have time to go play and have fun after lunch. I think Cantine is something they will miss next year when return to the States. I am sure I will hear a lot about the noise and craziness of the US lunchroom as well as the fact that they are rushed and don't have an hour to play. Just one of the many differences we will be adjusting to next year I am sure. Oh well, it will be good to be back to a country that has a Target, and Starbucks, and Nordstrom and.....

A Perfect Day in Le Revest

After much rain (very unusual this time of year) the beautiful blue skies and sun have come to Southern France. Each day, I wake up, look at the sky and just breathe. This it what makes living here special. Few places that I have lived have this amazing blue sky, no clouds and not too hot yet, ability to make me feel wonderful. It was on a recent day just like the one described, that we had one of our most special days in France.

I am sure to our friends who live in a beautiful little village called Le Revest les Eaux it was a normal day, but for us it was almost magical. A quaint little village tucked up against the mountains, behind Mt. Faron, Le Revest is filled with little springs that pop up everywhere. Newer houses tumble down toward the old village, where a town square and fountain surrounded by trees greet visitors. Each year this little village has a featival honoring a different region in France. This year the honoree was Corsica, a small island south of France surrounded by the beautiful water of the Med. Our French friends, Sabine and Bernard, invited us to join them in their village for the festival. We would meet some of their friends, the children would play and we would eat and drink the foods and wine of Corse. It turned out to be a nearly perfect day.

The sun was shining, but the tree filled village was cool and shady. The three families gathered on a terrace and as the children sat and played, the adults planned the meal for the day, pizza for the children (not Corsican, but really how many kids want boar pate) and an assortment of foods from Corsica for the adults, salami, meats, cheeses, bread, soup and most importantly wine. Although our friends thought it was not as big a feast as other years, we enjoyed relaxing talking and getting to know everyone better.

After lunch, the older children took the younger children to play fair-style games, ride the carousel and play at the park. How wonderful for us to be able to relax knowing that the children were fine in this fabulous little town. Would we have let the children have this independence in the US...no. Because, let's face it, in the US, people do not give their children nearly the independence they do here. By 14, many French teenagers are headed by train to other towns to explore with their friends. Life seems so much more simple here and this may be what I miss the most when we leave.

As the children played, the adults headed up the hill through the old town. We were given the VIP tour of this beautiful village. We saw the church both of the other couples were married in. As Bernard is a mason, we enjoyed seeing the houses he has worked on and the ones he will soon be starting work on. We saw the lake that used to provide water to Toulon and I guess is now just a beautiful area to picnic and hike. We saw the medieval tower that tops the hill and has a gorgeous view. From many spots in this amazing town, you can see all the way to the ocean. From this point you can also see the historic pigeonnier (pigeon house), on the opposite hill, recently refurbished and quite beautiful although it no longer houses pigeons. We finished our stroll by checking out the vendors tables, looking at the jewelry and other things, were impressed by the man carving beautiful works of art out of stone and using the towns fountain to rinse it as he went, and finally, we joined the children at the playground before heading back to our friends house for drinks and a snack.

Yes, we spoke French and some English when necessary, but it was the first time here that I felt really comfortable in an all French setting. What a great accomplishment for me. And, one that would not have been possible if our hosts we not so willing and welcoming.

It was really a leisurely, wonderful day. Of course, it wouldn't be my family if there were not a few hiccups, one of the twin ducklings fell and scraped herself, the littlest duckling threw up after a few too many spins of the park merry-go-round etc. But all in all it was the perfect day. Many thanks to our friends for including us and showing us such a special place.

Les Bottes/The Boots

I am sure that most anyone who knew me prior to my move to France will be shocked by what I am about to tell you....shocked. First, let me say, that I am a normal mother of 4 children, or at least as normal as one who has 4 children can be. Before we arrived in France, I dressed pretty much like all the other Moms I knew and hung out with. A lot of work-out attire and tennis shoes, with the occasional jeans and/or pants with a sweater. Whatever has happened to me? I do not claim to be "tres chic" by any stretch of the imagination, but I will say that I only wear work out clothes when I am actually working out, and lets face it, that is a pretty rare occurrence. However, my ever developing sense of fashion has manifested itself in a new and sudden interest in boots. Well, purses and wool coats too. I am not sure, if it is the fact that every woman here wears boots almost daily, or if it is that it is hard to buy clothes here if you are larger then a size 8, and everyone that knows me, knows I haven't been a size 8 since age 12, but, I will say it now, I am addicted to boots.

I know my boot addiction is shocking. You will be really shocked when you find out what now resides in my closet.

When we arrived, I had 3 pairs of boots, one brown, one black and one reddish. The black and brown boots were from Target, my US shopping mecca. The red boots I still have and they are pretty beautiful. So beautiful in fact, that I had to buy myself a purse to match...thanks Nonna. They were pretty expensive by my pre-France standards and were actually purchased at Macy's.

However, this is what I have become.........

Purchase #1......Brown boots, for walking around town in. They go with everything (except my black wool coat...I must wear my blue pea coat). These boots were more expensive then my red boots, but I wore them almost everyday last winter. Because I wore them everyday, I had to find a cordonnier, that's what they call a trained shoe repairman in France. Although for some reason, they make copies of keys as well. My brown boots have visited the repair place 3 times, but are still holding together, barely.

Purchase #2....made shortly after purchase #1. I had to have a pair of black walk around town boots....to match my grey wool coat. Unfortunately, the heel, at 3 inches, although perfect for a French women to walk around in, is too tall for me.

Leading to Purchase #3, but I did wait until after summer, a pair of low-heeled black boots. They even have a pointy toe. Of course, this lead to the purchase of a long black wool coat as I decided that my grey one is just too short to go with my pointy boots.

And then, a gift, from the Grand Canard, a pair of thigh high, black boots. I am not sure who was more excited about this purchase. When they finally arrived, I was thrilled. I put them on with black leggings and a long sweater and off we went to Toys-r-Us. I know, this is where all the fashionistas go in thigh high boots. However, this being France, I was not out of place. Unfortunately, the boots are a size too small, and I only lasted about 2 hours in them. I think though, that I could train myself to last longer if only I had the time. Still, for the occasional trip to Toys-r-Us, what could be more perfect?

So, after my closet was filled with boots of all different colors, I thought I was done, but then came the Soldes and with it purchase #4. The Soldes is the bi-annual sale that takes place across France for 2 months per year, once in the summer and again, the first week in January through the first week in February. In January, I saw one of the other Mommy's wearing the cutest pair of knee high brown boots and I just had to have them. I looked everywhere, in vain, for these boots, and finally 2days before the Soldes ended, I asked the other Mommy where she had gotten them. Apparently I was not the only one that loved her boots and had to have them. She doubted I could still find them, but, as I have giant feet, at least compared to the French, the trade off for not being able to buy clothes here, I was victorious. Well, mostly anyway, as these beautiful boots were located in a teeny tiny boutique....so teeny tiny, that I had to leave all 4 girls standing on the street while I shopped. It was also a very expensive teeny tiny boutique. Still, they were 1/2 price...my most expensive pair of boots ever, but I got them for 1/2 price.

And then finally, purchase #5....rainboots.....that's a boot right? Ordered from Target. I waited weeks for their arrival, and since they got here, it has hardly rained at all. Only twice have I been able to wear my beautiful, black and red plaid rain boots and new black trench coat. Come on rain!

And, now I think I am finished buying boots.....but, I did notice the toe of my red boots are a little last season, and what if my casual brown boots become unfixable, or I see another pair I love, or maybe if....well, you get the picture.

Rome

It takes me awhile, but I eventually get organized enough to finish another Blog entry. I cannot believe it has been a month since we returned from Rome, and already, we are preparing to leave again on another European Adventure, or as we like to call it F-cubed, Forced Family Fun. However, I thought I should finish up my thoughts on Rome, before they get all mixed up with my thoughts on our upcoming trip.

Rome, it was everything one would expect it to be, beautiful, historic, and amazing. It was also a few things one would not expect it to be, or at least I did not expect it to be: Huge, crowded, hard to get around, and rain, lots and lots of rain. Who would have thought that Christmas would be busier then summer in Rome? Ok, maybe I would have, but that is not my travel style. My travel style goes something like this, "Hey, the girls have another break coming up next week. Where should we go? How about Rome? That sounds good, I will make reservations." Then, we get to Rome, with no itinerary whatsoever, and voila', we make it work.

And, it worked this time as well, with one exception. Our rental apartment was really far from the Metro. Who knew? It looked a lot closer on google maps. Thankfully, the horses of the Rome Police were between our apartment and the Metro, so that was good for a few moments of fun each morning. When you travel with 4 kids under 7, it takes awhile to walk anywhere, so being close to the sites is essential. Unfortunately, we weren't. I suppose it would help to be organized as well, but again, not really our travel style.

So, Rome, as I said, it is everything you would expect it to be and more. On the first day, we saw the Colosseum and a bit of the surrounding area. The ducklings loved it, and especially, the animal bones found during excavation. I was a little hesitant to mention that the ostrich bones were there because the Emperor at the time had them hunted for the spectators, so we just glossed over the details and enjoyed the bones. Another essential at the Colosseum, and really anywhere in Rome, is the rented headset. Signage does not appear to be a strong suit of the Italians (as mentioned in the Naples blog, they thrive on chaos), so having the headset for the basic info is vital. The only problem, is that to return the headset one must stand in the same line they already stood in to pick it up, and then, go all the way back around to the exit.....chaos, but a great time, rain and all.

Lunch was preceded by another hugely long walk, that allowed us to see more of the city. The restaurants in Italy are great for families, and Da Sergio's, in the Campo de'Fiori was no exception. Like a lot of things in Italy, it was hard to find but totally worth it. The food was fabulous and the children were welcomed. The littlest Duckling even has a new favorite dish....Fritto Misto or small, fried, whole fish: yummy. Another long walk returned us home after passing all the must-see sights, Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Spanish Steps etc. Truly, there are hundreds of must-see sights, and no way to see them all.

Day 2 brought us to the Castel St. Angelo. Another favorite of the ducklings. The little one however was a little confused by the castle label, and kept asking, "where is the princess." No princess here sweetie, just a big statue of an angel, and a big fortress to protect the Pope in case of attack. The Castel was originally built as Hadrians tomb, but has become best known for the Passeto, or walled passage that runs directly to the Vatican, and, historically, was used to lead the Pope to safety. The highlight, besides the amazing views, was a special art exhibit highlighting works by Cezanne, Van Gogh, Renoir and others. We saw more art at the Castel then in all our time in Paris. Four kids=no Louvre.

After our tour (and yippee, no rain), we were off to lunch again. This restaurant was also highly recommended and did not disappoint. Alfredo e Ada's was described as, "like being at your Nonna's house". We knew we had to check it out. There is no menu, and they just bring out what they have made that day. OMG, so good. Girls loved it, we loved it. Most amazing part? The food came from a kitchen that was tops, 5ft by 8ft. The dishes were washed, by hand, in a small utility sink across from the kitchen, by a real Nonna. It was just like being at our Nonna (and Nono's) beach house. Nonna makes food for the masses and then washes the dishes by hand. Of course, another long walk followed, but we cut through the park, so the ducklings were (mostly) happy.

Our final day was spent touring the Vatican Museums. I am certain that I have never been in such a crowd of people as I was that day. The line to enter was over 2 hours long (apparently quite normal for high season) and, we were told, that the museum will see up to 20,000 visitors per day, also in the high season. We will be forever thankful that we joined a tour. Our guide was great, and we got to skip the long line....key with the girls. As it was the whole thing took almost 4 hours, so the patience of little ducks was wearing thin by the end. However, 20,000 people shoved into a museum, no matter how large the museum, is pretty crazy. If one was claustrophobic, I would think it would have been a horrible experience. People were quite literally right up against one another in many of the rooms. Our guide was great at getting us together and out of the way, but it was sheer chaos. That being said however, the artwork was, of course, amazing. I would love to return just to stare at the Sistine Chapel ceiling. One of the highlights for me? The spiral ramp that exits you out of the gift shop and museum. It is 6 or so levels and I found it slightly ironic that it spiraled down, down, down. I felt as though I was descending into the depths of hell, an apt description after being battered by the crowd. Luckily, after a quick lunch, we were fortified for another long trip home.

Our final trip on the Rome Metro was exciting if nothing else. It was New Year's Eve, and upon our exit, I experienced the first time I have ever, in Europe, felt singled out for being American. As we exited, a group of guys in their late teens, started shouting "Americano, Americano" and pushing against us as we pushed out. The Big Duck easily escaped, but I had a tougher time, screaming in my really pathetic Italian, "the children" as I grabbed the eldest ducklings hand and pulled her through the crowd while practically using the littlest duckling as a battering ram. As we were all ok, it ended up being more annoying then scary. I did however feel quite pleased, when it started pouring rain shortly after our arrival at the apartment, knowing that those nasty boys were standing somewhere and getting quite wet. That is called Karma.

With this, our visit to Rome ended, but we look forward to returning and exploring some of the hundreds of places we did not get to see this trip.

"Every one soon or late comes round by Rome." Robert Browning