Shalom, chaverim! I awoke yesterday to see a mysterious, water-like substance dripping onto the ground from grey, puffy blobs in the sky. All of the cars had little speckles of this water on them, and when I walked outside, the sidewalks were slippery and the ground was soggy. I am still trying to figure out what this mysterious phenomena was--I hear the locals call it "rain."
Other than strange skyborne globules exuding droplets of water, it's been a fairly normal week here in beautiful downtown Nahariya. Elul has been very busy with his new job, which gets more interesting and correspondingly more demanding each and every day. From its point of origin as being a work-at-home, part-time sales job, it's turned into a full-blown REAL job, complete with a giant business trip to England, Canada, and the good old U.S.A.
Elul leaves this Sunday, and has been running around like a headless kosher chicken (not on Shabbat, of course--that's when the chicken hits the pot) to prepare for it. Yesterday he scoured the town for a cordless computer mouse and his own personal supply of dental floss and toothpaste. It's been so long since we've been apart for more than a day or so that we got used to having only one set of toiletries between us. As for me, I've been busy compiling my extensive and bossy "you have to get this at Wal-Mart for me, or don't bother getting back on the plane to come home" list. I just haven't lived in Israel long enough to be "okay" with spending $10 for a box of hair color, when I know darn well I can buy it at Wally World for $3.24. Plus, there are other items that I need, that are just too embarrassing to try to ask for in my stumbling Hebrew, with everyone standing around, listening and trying to help. If I tried, for example, to find an Israeli equivalent of Preparation H, it would probably go like this:
Pharmacist: "Ken, bevakesha." (Yes, may I help you?)
Me: "I need something...cream...(now pointing to my own rear end)...ouch! Very hot!"
Pharmacist: "OK, you speak Russit (Russian)? Anglit (English)?"
Me: "English, beseder (fine)."
Pharmacist: "What you are need?"
Me: "Erm...in America, it's called "Preparation H."
Pharmacist: "Ah! Preparation H! Your ah-NOOS, it is uncomfortable?"
Me: "Yes! Exactly!" (Big smile of victory: communication successful!)
Pharmacist: "OK, beseder... here is cream. You put it on...the ah-NOOS, whenever you like it."
Me: "Todah rabah (thanks very much)!"
Yeah. Never mind the orthodox guy standing behind me in his black hat, trying to cover his snort of laughter with a cough, or the old Russian ladies crowding in next to me, wondering what we're talking about that involves "hot" and my backside. There are just some words that will never be listed in my trusty "New Immigrant Hebrew Learner Dictionary."
Shabbat shalom, everyone!
Other than strange skyborne globules exuding droplets of water, it's been a fairly normal week here in beautiful downtown Nahariya. Elul has been very busy with his new job, which gets more interesting and correspondingly more demanding each and every day. From its point of origin as being a work-at-home, part-time sales job, it's turned into a full-blown REAL job, complete with a giant business trip to England, Canada, and the good old U.S.A.
Elul leaves this Sunday, and has been running around like a headless kosher chicken (not on Shabbat, of course--that's when the chicken hits the pot) to prepare for it. Yesterday he scoured the town for a cordless computer mouse and his own personal supply of dental floss and toothpaste. It's been so long since we've been apart for more than a day or so that we got used to having only one set of toiletries between us. As for me, I've been busy compiling my extensive and bossy "you have to get this at Wal-Mart for me, or don't bother getting back on the plane to come home" list. I just haven't lived in Israel long enough to be "okay" with spending $10 for a box of hair color, when I know darn well I can buy it at Wally World for $3.24. Plus, there are other items that I need, that are just too embarrassing to try to ask for in my stumbling Hebrew, with everyone standing around, listening and trying to help. If I tried, for example, to find an Israeli equivalent of Preparation H, it would probably go like this:
Pharmacist: "Ken, bevakesha." (Yes, may I help you?)
Me: "I need something...cream...(now pointing to my own rear end)...ouch! Very hot!"
Pharmacist: "OK, you speak Russit (Russian)? Anglit (English)?"
Me: "English, beseder (fine)."
Pharmacist: "What you are need?"
Me: "Erm...in America, it's called "Preparation H."
Pharmacist: "Ah! Preparation H! Your ah-NOOS, it is uncomfortable?"
Me: "Yes! Exactly!" (Big smile of victory: communication successful!)
Pharmacist: "OK, beseder... here is cream. You put it on...the ah-NOOS, whenever you like it."
Me: "Todah rabah (thanks very much)!"
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| Nothing says "I love you" more than a special trip to Rite-Aid on a business trip. Thanks to the charming and informative HemorrhoidsInsider.com website for this image. |
Yeah. Never mind the orthodox guy standing behind me in his black hat, trying to cover his snort of laughter with a cough, or the old Russian ladies crowding in next to me, wondering what we're talking about that involves "hot" and my backside. There are just some words that will never be listed in my trusty "New Immigrant Hebrew Learner Dictionary."
Shabbat shalom, everyone!
Love this post...which reminds me of the time that I sent my husband of several months to the grocery story for the very same item. Embarrassed to buy just that, he came home with the Preparation H, a frozen pizza and a carton of lemonade!
ReplyDeleteHope you are feeling better!