Correction: I did NOT eat fertilizer!

Ok. I have an embarrassing admission. But it must be made. Yesterday I posted about the delicious tastes of Israel. When a Freundin of mine quite stealthily posted the word "hummus" on my facebook (as opposed to "humus" as I had written), making it look like she was simply commenting on the post, it was brought to my attention that the creamy food made from garbanzo beans, in fact, has THREE possible spellings. But rather than using any of these magnificent spellings, I used what I thought was another alternative but which actually means "the dark organic material in soils, produced by the decomposition of vegetable or animal matter and essential to the fertility of the earth." Oh dear. I didn't eat any of that.

I'm usually rather precise with my spelling and grammar (although I hate proofreading), and I may have tried to let it slide by as a typo, had it just been once. Instead, I have now replaced all seven instances of this word with alternating spellings of "a paste or dip made of chickpeas mashed with oil, garlic, lemon juice, and tahini and usually eaten with a pita." So, to my friend who so sneakily pointed this out without pointing it out (du weißt, wer du bist), I say to you, "Mensch! Unglaublich!" and, of course, "Eine Prinzessin zu Weihnachten". This should be a lesson to all in the importance proofreading and peer reviewing. Although I probably haven't actually learned it.

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

Garbanzos: The Israeli Staple

Back to Israel. But not that sappy, serious, philosophical stuff. Let's talk about the important stuff: food. First off hummus. Good grief. I had never heard of hoummos with an omelet. But my GOODNESS what a great idea it is. Basically houmous can and should be eaten with every meal. I need to figure out either how to find it in Russia or how to make it. Both sound like they will take a lot of effort and probably a considerable amount of dough as well... I guess that's why I haven't had hummus since I got back. Also. The Israelis know how to do Shawarma (also with hoummos, and portions big enough for two meals). But to get a little more authentic here let's talk falafel. First off, what a great name. Say it. Just once. You can't say it just once. Because once you say it once you have to say it just once more just to try it a different way. It's a vicious cycle. Or maybe it's just me. Hmmm. Anyway. I'm going to be honest, I didn't actually know what falafel was made of. I finally looked it up and found that it's made of chickpeas, just like HOUMOUS. And it's also served with hummus. May be excessive but how can you have too much of anything with a name like "garbanzo bean"? Come on. So this sounded like one of those foods that should be gluten free but almost certainly isn't. And upon further inquiry I found that there's a shop in Tel Aviv which makes them for special people like me. So, naturally, I had to spend my last night in Israel in search of this restaurant. After about 30 minutes of circling the area I was about to give up and just eat something else. But at that point I was driven by stubbornness. There was no way that, after putting off my evening and wasting that much time, I was going to NOT eat falafel. So I found the little stinker. I walked in and asked if they sold gluten free falafel. And miracle of miracles the man did not look at me like a was speaking Greek. He hooked me up with the works, along with fresh lemonade. There is something magical about Israeli lemonade. I think I drank more in 4 days there than I have in a year. So he handed my bowl and cup over the counter, and, as I tried to pay, he told me just to pay later.

There are so many garbanzos on this plate it's not even funny. Yum.

So I sat down outside in the perfect evening weather. Sigh. There I partook of my very own authentic falafel. And there was joy in my mouth. And stomach. After a little while, Falafel Man came out and chatted with me. He asked me where I was from, how I liked Isreal, blah blah blah. On a sidenote, one problem I kept encountering was that when people asked where I'm from, in order to avoid giving my whole life story, I'd simply say, "the US" and then they'd say, "Wow, you came a long way" especially since I was only there for a few days. But if I tried to simply answer that I live in Russia (live being the operative word) they would say "Wow. Your English is fantastic!" And that it is. My accent even sounds authentic. I should hope that I'd have achieved such a level of proficiency after more than 20 years of practice.  But I digress. I told him that I liked Israel very much. I found it to be a beautiful country with very friendly people (understatements). He thanked me and said "Yes. We try to be nice to everyone. But we try to be especially nice to Americans. When we meet an American it's like meeting another Israeli!" Okay then! I'll take it. Israelis are GORGEOUS!

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

Rogue Strawberries and Spastic Mustard

I can be a bit of a klutz sometimes. I know. This information is shattering the image of perfection that you had of me. But it's true. I was fishing through my carton of strawberries trying to salvage what I could and eliminate what I couldn't. But those little stinkers are slippery and one jumped (yes-JUMPED- leapt, even) out of my hand and rolled down my white sweatshirt and grey (or gray-whichever you prefer) sweatpants. Gasp. Pink everywhere. My mind scrolled through all of my stain-removal techniques while being poisoned with thoughts of my lounge-wear bearing my alma mater's insignia simply being ruined forever. But before I had to resort to Pinterest I remembered something remarkable: the last time I was in the US I had bought a Tide To Go pen! I figured this was the time to give it a shot. A looked down 10 minutes later and... TA-DA! A miracle had occurred. Who knew that magic could be bought at wal-mart for only $2.

And yes, rather than reflecting further upon my escapades in Israel, I'm taking a short break to share my stain-removal woes with all of cyber space.

But that's not all. Being the klutz I am, I, of course, couldn't handle only one disaster in the day. So when, upon being opened, the mustard squirted out all over my pushed-up sleeve, I was ready. I knew just what to do. I ran into my room and grabbed the magic stick. I did my thing. I waited. I noticed spots on my arm where my hard-earned tan seemed to be bleached off. Disconcerting. But the sweatshirt looked virtually the same. I tried it again. I waited again. I tried it once more. Nope. Apparently mustard is more resilient than strawberries. I don't even usually eat mustard. Perhaps I should have stuck to that.

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

Inescapable Miracles

If St Petersburg was amazing (which it was) then how in the world am I going to come up with a strong enough adjective for my subsequent adventure: Israel. Oh boy. It's taken me this long to post anything purely because I can't figure out how to encapsulate the experience in one or two anecdotes. Then I was reminded of something one of my favorite Germans said. "May I suggest that you reduce the rush and take a little extra time to get to know yourself better. Walk in nature, watch a sunrise, enjoy God's creations..." (Dieter Uchtdorf)

Sunrise over Jerusalem from a rooftop

Sunrise over the Dead Sea from the top of Masada

Sunset over the Mediterranean

If there are two things that are virtually inescapable they are the sky and yourself. They're going to follow you no matter where we go, so you might as well pay a little more attention to both. In 5.5 days I saw the sunrise and sunset from an airplane, a mountain top, a rooftop, a hillside, and a beach (not just any beach, though- the Mediterranean). With each one came a little squeal of excitement and sigh of astonishment. I can't say I'm in a particularly rushed stage of life right now. In fact, this may be the least rushed I've ever been (hence the two vacations two weekends in a row). But there I sat, stood, walked in the Holy Land, a place which I certainly hadn't anticipated seeing for quite some time, and which some people wait a lifetime to see. And as if that wasn't miraculous enough, I was actually taking the time to witness one of the most common and most overlooked miracles of all. So, "may I suggest that you reduce the rush and take a little extra time to get to know yourself better. Walk in nature, watch a sunrise, enjoy God's creations..."

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.