sunday, again?

hello, again, children of israel. how is it going? i cannot believe it's already sunday. february is flying. just like ME. that's right, i've been hopping on sheiruts like a madwoman getting to tel aviv as much as humanly possible. actually, i've been thrice in the past 11 days. honestly i'm on another level there. even before i get there, actually.

the minute the sheirut (what is a sheirut, you ask? a sheirut is a "service taxi," which holds about 10 or 11 people, and the place to pick them up is literally down the street from my apt. - much more convenient than leaving from the central bus station - which is also down the street from my apt. - but 15-20 minutes instead of four to six. And this 15 to 20-minute walk takes you down the other side of yafo - which is currently a HUGE construction site (they're building a train) - the narrow "sidewalks" are packed with people and strollers and charedim and barriers, which make the "sidewalks" super narrow, so the walk can actually take a half-hour if, say, you aren't israeli-style PUSHY. after this walk, you reach the central bus station, hooray! but instead of feeling relieved you've finally made it there, past all the creepers and through all the masses, there's always a crazy "line" (we've discussed these) just to get through security JUST to enter the building to put your bag(s) through the machine, to go up stairs and find where your bus leaves, and lucky me, i ALWAYS see the bus i want pulling away just as i walk up and i get to wait in the crowd for the next one. and it smells like hot dogs and body odor. and about 20 minutes later when the bus pulls up, you walk outside to this enclosed area, which, instead of feeling and smelling "fresh air," you enter a pool, and are swimming in a sea of cigarette smoke. before you can grasp that you're swimming, people PUSH. hard. so it's like you're treading, trying to stay alive. you feel their sweat and taste their cigarettes and sometimes get hit by purses or baby bags or baby spit or (hopefully unloaded) guns worn by the soldiers, as everyone's yelling and trying to knock you down to get on the bus. once i make it through, somehow alive, i always wind up sitting next to someone coughing that HORRID throaty, mucusie cough or sneezing and wiping their nose with their arm, and if they're not sick, they're generally eating tuna fish sandwiches with onions. BUT if somehow i find the perfect seat, i'm asked to move by a girl younger than me carrying her child and stroller who needs the room more than i do. then i end up next to the crazies who like to take up not just their seat, but 75% of mine, as well. i like the window, but i don't wanna make out with it, thanks. oh tangent.)...

yeah. so i like sheiruts. they hold 10-11 people and run 24 hours (the buses do NOT). people generally give me crap for not taking buses, since "they're so much cheaper," and more environmentally-friendly, but i just don't mind spending the extra three shekel (about 75 cents) for a shorter walk, less chance of catching the latest virus, faster arrival time, and skipping out on all the mishigas listed above. so... back to the original sentence: the minute the sheirut gets out of jerusalem and i start seeing beit zayit or mevaseret, my nerves have escaped my body and an enormous wave of relaxation starts to settle in, starting at my shoulders, slowly moving all the way to my toes. magically, i feel calm. (most of the time - unless the sheirut driver is on the phone or driving 600 km per hour, which HAS been known to happen). my ipod keeps me entertained, and bam, next thing ya know, you're in tel aviv.

the weather right now is amazing. i actually got sunburned walking around last week. really sunburned. to the point where i had a white circle on my skin from where my necklace was. the water is still a bit too cold at the beach. butttttt who cares. ok i have got to clean my room. perhaps ill write another chapter later? hugs hugs.