A stroll by the sea

Saturday morning I was horrified when I realized I had woken up at 10:45 am. A few minutes later I was only slightly less horrified when I remembered we had moved the clock forward so it was really only 9:45 and I had slept almost 10 hours straight. So I missed going to synagogue.

The scars on my forehead from last week's fall are way better, and I think people have stopped staring at me - at least for that reason (only Rafi consistently notices it on Skype). The upshot of the fall is that I now own new sunglasses (two pairs; the guy at the mall was great at talking me into the second pair for 50% off. Lisa! I need to go shopping with you again).

Me. Self-portrait. New sunglasses.

During the day I did the thing everyone here seems to do on Saturdays when the streets, without buses, are pretty quiet (I know, nothing like Jerusalem, but still): I walked to the beach. It was about 20 degrees C so still a bit too cool for me to lie in the sun, although this didn't stop the many who were there sunbathing today. I arrived at the Tayelet and turned right, going north, and walked towards the Port (ie., Lebanon).

Nothing much happened; it was pure bliss.

For a few hours I walked and watched and enjoyed, anonymously staring at people (it’s OK; I wear dark sunglasses). What does "look Jewish" mean? I certainly did not learn it today.

There were thousands of people strolling about, lots of couples (straight, gay, multi-age, multi-colored), lots of huge baby strollers carrying 2 or 3 babies and toddlers, lots of very cool-looking teenage kids calmly walking along with their parents and grandparents. Everybody talking, using their hands. Many observant people enjoying their Shabbat stroll. Lots of larger groups of same-age people in their late 20s and early 30s sitting outdoors in restaurants drinking wine and eating platefuls of Mediterranean appetizers. (Actually, "everyone" seemed to be either eating an ice cream cone or having lunch at one of the many, many seaside restaurants). Clothing-wise, I could have been anywhere in the western world, although perhaps the average person I saw is a bit more zaftig than back home - and still dares to wear fashionable clothing. Many had straight hair (some were probably born with it). Lots of bicyclists and runners in their designated lane on the Tayelet. Lots of smokers. People who looked Russian. People who looked African. Kids on fancy-looking tricycles not trying to run you over (yeah, right). A few handsome young men in wheelchairs. Lots and lots of people with dogs (glad one doesn't take cats for walks). Everyone has a cell phone in their hand (including bicyclists) constantly talking to someone, even when walking along with someone else (who is also on the phone).  The birds were chirping; the sounds, blaring in the background (was it music? I don't know). There was a gentle breeze that came and went and made me put on and take off my light jacket constantly. Several times I was stopped by someone asking me for directions. I guess I fit right in.

(At one point I stopped to enjoy a cup of Turkish coffee at a seaside cafe. Note to self: Never, ever drink the *last* sip of a cup of Turkish coffee again.)

Below are some snapshots of my morning:

Bolivian musician playing at the port. First time I hear Hebrew with a Quechua accent.

Resisted the urge to dance (others did not)

There are beggars here too. This one was deaf. Could I say no?

Sea view

Matkot playing everywhere. What if they miss while you walk past them?

Entrance to the art market. Was the guard (centre) guarding or checking out girls? Hard to say.

Port view

Promenade has undulating ground. Kids on bikes love it.

Sailboats

Large groups gather to dance. Square dance. Salsa. And more.

No age restrictions

"The beach is not an ashtray" - lots of smokers

Lots of outdoor gyms - with equipment - along the beach.

And one more gym on the beach

Seeing this man made me homesick (guess why?)

At the Port

In the late afternoon I met up with my Chilean school friends, who had organized a get-together. It is amazing to see people you have known since the age of, what, four – and they haven’t changed one bit!

In 1970 and subsequently, after Allende was elected President, many people left Chile. Within the Jewish community, many made Aliyah (others moved to places like Canada). Many of my classmates who live in Israel get together regularly, especially when a classmate comes to visit. 

Instituto Hebreo Chaim Weitzmann, Santiago, Chile...Tel Aviv.

From left to right: Lea Simonson Shani, Jaya Goldstein Levin, me, Noni Bochner, Leo Paradis Fink, Nurit Fosh-Baltiansky, Natania Isaak and the lone male, Arturo Wechler.

It was very nice to see them all and I enjoyed  getting caught up with what they and others back in Chile are up to (el copucheo fue genial y mejor que no repita nada de lo que se hablo!).

 

Later in the evening, I went to a jazz club where the daughter of a business contact was singing and playing. I had been invited but really didn’t think I would go as the show was slated to start at 10:30 pm which is way, way past my bedtime, But Rafi, during our Skype call, told me to go and experience it. And why not? (Other than the obvious, of course). So I went.

The jazz club, called Ozen Bar (the Ear Bar??), is located about 5 blocks from my apartment, on Dizengoff and King George. I got there; paid my entrance fee; declined the in-and-out stamp (didn’t think I would need it…) and immediately realized I was probably older than the average patron’s mother. Who cares; I don’t know anyone. So I ordered a glass of wine and proceeded to read the National Post's political commentary on my Blackberry while waiting for the show to start (I know that this is NOT cool. But I am older than the average club patron’s mother. How much worse can it get?).

Gally Alon on stage

The show started about an hour after it was supposed to (at 11:30 pm) and I was: (1) so incredible past my bedtime; and (2) feeling very, very mellow.  Gally Alon’s performance was wonderful, and here is a link to one of her YouTube recordings: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iHMxSfZ_mE  After about 20 minutes I left.  I had accomplished my goal to not turn any reasonable new experience down (with a little help from my husband; thank you Rafi!).

Walking home alone at midnight I realized I feel pretty safe here.