Don't say it, Mr. Trump!

My working ordeals have been somewhat well documented in this space, but things took a turn for the strange this week. To review: I got a job at a couple of places, decided to take one place over the other because I was going to work in the kitchen, trained there, was suspended from work pending acquisition of a work visa, and resumed working there after three weeks. Since resuming work, however, my place of work had relatively few customers and I was receiving relatively few shifts. In addition, there was a new manager, rendering all of my previous training invalid, but I was never exactly retrained. So I go into work this week, and I’m told, in Hebrew, that in the time that it took me to get my work visa, they hired other people, and they didn’t really need so many people, so it would be best if I didn’t work there anymore. Actually, the guy could have told me that I was a bad person and a terrible worker, but since I got fired in Hebrew, I’m relating things as I understood them. Let’s say I’m about 70% confident in my first explanation. This was actually okay with me, because I was dreading every shift at this place, and was kind of planning on quitting anyway. I guess this just made the decision that much easier.

So now what?

Well, since my shifts were so few in number the past couple of weeks, I’d already been considering the possibility of additional time on my hands. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been volunteering a couple of mornings a week for an organization called Livnot Ulehibanot. They send their volunteers to a soup kitchen, or to paint/repair the homes of the needy. So that’s been a good time, and I’ve met some very nice people doing it. Plus, I learned the Hebrew word for spackle. It’s “spatchtell.” Don’t you just want to say it over and over? “Spatchtell.” And, as in English, it’s both the verb and the noun. “Say, would you mind passing the spatchtell?” or “Just spatchtell right there, where you see that gaping hole in the wall,” or, less correctly, “That was a fine example of professional spatchtelling, until you came in and f’ed it up” Really, learning that word is probably one of the top five things that’s happened to me since I’ve gotten here. Which I guess says a lot, but not necessarily anything good.

I’ve also begun looking for other work, but in an entirely non-desperate way. Through Janglo (the Yahoo group where English-speaking Jerusalemites post anything from garage sale announcements to advice requests about infants with severe gas), I’ve found several part-time professional leads that could be financially if not spiritually rewarding. If I really wanted to ruin my time here, I’d work with IDT. IDT is a call center about thirty minutes from where I live that has all sorts of jobs for native English speakers, with hours either from four in the afternoon til midnight or from midnight til seven in the morning. I like sleep. So I don’t think I’ll be doing that.

Finally, I’ve talked to a couple of organizations about being a counselor for a short-term Israel trip. I don’t know why I didn’t think to apply for something like this sooner, since the vast majority of these trips are taking place in the next month and a half. But I’ve found some quality leads, and I’m confident something will come of this.

By the way, Merry Christmas. Classic “I live in Israel” moment, courtesy of Joel Seltzer. Earlier this week, for Fantasy Football purposes, he was looking at the NFL schedule, and saw that almost all of the games were being played on Saturday. He couldn’t figure out why. It took him half a day before he realized that today, Sunday, was Hag HaChristmas. And honestly, you can’t blame the guy. Unless you watch non-Israeli TV stations (recommended, actually), or decide to take a quick jaunt to Bethlehem, you’d have no idea that it was Christmas. In the States, y’all are being bombarded by the “Holiday” spirit, while fighting in the trenches of the War of Christmas, while here in Israel, I was at the mall last night and the only indication of the holiday was a drunk guy walking around in a Santa hat and beard.

We have so many guests coming here in the next couple of weeks, I can’t even keep track of everyone. And that’s not counting the dozen or so people who I know who are here, but I don’t know that they’re here. So if you’re here, and I don’t know you’re here and you want to split a sufgania or something, let me know.

And one more thing: Sufganiot. The traditional Hanukkah jelly-filled donut that brings cheer to all the boys and girls in Israel. Is. Totally. Gross. I’ve probably tried a dozen of these things, and I’ve been unable to finish a single one. There is never enough jelly. There is always immediate heartburn. I keep trying them because people gush about them, and I’m trying to figure out whether it’s a national practical joke on me, or whether people are just ignorant of the superiority of a Krispy Kreme jelly donut, or even (and this is hard for me to type) a Dunkin Donuts jelly donut. Or do Israelis just have digestive tracts of steel? Are you supposed to pop a dozen Tums first? Can someone explain this to me?

And to all of my Jewish readers, a very happy Chanukkah / Hanukkah / Channukkah / Hanuka / Chanuka / Hannukka / etc / etc / etc.