Story of the Day 3/ 29/ 2012

Aaron is not happy in his yeshivah.

It is not the yeshivah.
The yeshivah is very nice.
Even the mice like the yeshivah.

Okay, the mice are not very nice. I wish the yeshivah did not have so many mice. I do not wish this as much as Aaron's roommate, the other Aaron.
The other Aaron had a mouse run over his face at 3 AM , one morning, when he was trying to sleep.
While I might cringe at the story, I do not have to cringe at the memory of what that felt like.

But, the yeshivah, except for the mice, is nice.
Aaron's roommate, Aaron, is nice.
But Jerusalem is not nice.
Well, not for Aaron to live in.
Jerusalem is a big city with lot of people who act like it is a big city that has a lot of people and is crowded.
And Aaron is a small town boy.

He is from the small town of Indianapolis, Indiana which has just about a million people.
That is a million as in 1,000,000. But , despite what that number looks like and sounds like, Indianapolis is a very large small town.
We don't push, we don't' shove, we smile at strangers, we even speak to them.

A friend whose husband moved here from Israel was very upset.
He complained to her, "They think I am a thief !" He complained about this because every time he went into a store, the salespeople would come up to him, smile and ask if they could help him.
My friend told him, "they are just trying to help you!' But he didn't' believe that.
They don't' do things like that in Israel.

They also don't do it in New York.

I made a point of taking my sister-in-law to the grocery store, when she was visiting.
Not to buy groceries.
I made her wait in the produce department and watch.
Sure enough, within few minutes, one woman in the produce department walked away from her shopping cart, several feet away, with her back turned to her shopping cart.
This is something that doesn't happen in big cities.
At least not like this.
You see, the woman walked away leaving her purse sitting in the shopping cart, absolutely sure it would be fine until she came back.
As I said, Aaron is from a small town.

I remember when my husband and I first moved back to the midwest. Okay it was back for me , but my husband's first experience living anywhere other than New York.
We went into the grocery store in and asked if they had any packages of balloons. The young lady said , "Wait a minute!" and ran off down an aisle and returned with a package.
Then she said, "We also have another kind', and she ran in the other direction and returned with a different package.
My husband stood there with his mouth hanging open.
She stood there smiling, waiting for us to decide which package we wanted, and then she ran the unwanted package back to its shelf.
Smiling the entire time.

Indiana is a bit like this, except that we we walk. It probably has to do with the level of obesity in Indiana.
We are friendly, but fat.

That is the other problem.
Not the fat part.
The walking part.

Aaron likes to walk.

But he can't walk in Jerusalem.

A friend said, "What do you mean? My mother walks all the time."
I told her that I meant outside in nature, not on a paved street.
"Oh, yeah, he can't do that. Not in Jerusalem."

Aaron is my son who is not an organic farmer. That is Ely.
He is my son who likes to commune with nature.
Once a day, he sticks his fisherman's hat on and heads out to the park.
The park is a ten minute walk from our house.
It has woods. Lots of trails through the woods. And a river.

I should probably take photos because you, if you tare not from here, can probably not visualize what I am describing, since we happen to live in Indianapolis.
The very large town that likes to pretend it is areal city.

So Aaron has decided he is not happy at the yeshivah and that he needed to find a yeshivah that is closer to nature.
Since the local park doesn't have one- a yeshivah, that is- he started thinking about Sfat.

In case you have run off to Google maps to check out where Sfat is, I now need to explain that you might not be able to find Sfat on the map, if you are not Jewish, because you will look for Sfat.
And it might be listed as Safed.
Or as Sephad.
Or as Sefad.
Or as Sefat..
Or as....
Anyhow, it is in the northern part of Israel and is ...in a more rugged setting. Even though it is a city, although, not a big one like Jerusalem.
My son started thinking this would be a good idea.
To go to a yeshivah in Sfat.
To go there after his Passover break, as a new student.

Until I told him that he was not allowed to go to the yeshivah unless he actually got his butt out of Jerusalem and went and looked at it before this Sunday.
That is because he is leaving Israel on Monday to come home. to the United States; and I am not paying for an extra ticket so he can go look, later, or so he can go to it, sight unseen, since, at the moment, he is only 3 or 4 hours from it, by bus.

For some reason, he didn't seem to get what I was telling him about the need to actually go and look at it.
So I made it clear, "YOU WILL GO!"
I screamed so loudly into the phone that even my deaf son in Jerusalem could hear me.

That was a few days ago.

Then, yesterday, he called. He was planning on going to look at it, today, by bus.
"But it seems very far to go just for a look."
He was going to leave early in the day, spend 3 hours on the bus, look at the yeshivah and return to Jerusalem.

I was starting to worry that he was not leaving enough time to really look at the program and speak to people.
I told him to pack his backpack with a clean shirt, socks, underwear, a toothbrush and his tefillin.
Then, if he decided to spend the night, he could.

My son called me, today, from Sfat, or Sephad or Safed or.... at 3:10PM, my time.
That happens to be 9:15 PM Israel time. It would have been 10:15 PM, but they monkeyed with our clocks recently as part of what I have decided is a dirty Commie plot because I have yet to figure out how to change the clock in my car. Or maybe it is a Republican plot. If I were more politically aware, I would know these things.

Back to the phone call.

He is in Sfat.
He looked at the yeshivah.
I was excited. He has gone and looked, and maybe he will like it or he will not like it, but he will have some idea what it is like!

"Did you get to visit any classes?"
"Well, no."
"Did you get to talk to any of the instructors or staff?"
"Well, no."
"Well, what were the students like?"
"I didn't get to talk to any of the students."
But he spoke to someone outside of the school.
"What? Why didn't' you visit the school."
"It was closed."
It was closed because Aaron didn't' leave Jerusalem until after 3 PM.

"I missed the bus. Don't' you want to know why I missed the bus?"
No, I fucking did not want to know why he couldn't wake up in time to take the 12:30 PM bus.

" Find a cheap place to spend the night. Did you pack your toothbrush?"
"No."
"Did you pack clean socks or underwear or a shirt?"
"No, but I brought my backpack."
Yes, he did take his backpack and his teffilin and some books, and......
I told him to ask around and find a cheap place to stay. Not the $250 a night hotel that I have seen advertised on the internet. And that $250 rate was their "special".

"But I don't want to waste your money."

"I am going to kill you if you go back to Jerusalem and don't' look at the yeshivah!"
Okay,I didn't' say that; but I wanted to, with several expletives inserted before each verb.

I did tell him, " You will be wasting our money if you come home and you didn't' look at the program you are telling us you want to go to while you were in the same country!"
I added that if he goes back to Jerusalem without having actually gone into the yeshivah and looked at it while it is open, I am not going to allow him to go back to Israel to study because I will know he is not serious.

I may have actually made an impression on him, at that point.
I think this is possible because he then asked me for a phone number of someone in Sfat or Safed or .....
And he even gave me his email password , so I could get it.
Of course, he is not sure he should call them, at 9:25 PM at night, because I have been yelling at him for over 10 minutes. That is why it is now almost 9:30, and they have children. Children who have underwear and socks and toothbrushes.
He is also not sure he will call because he is afraid to ask someone to use their phone. The phone he is calling me from is only for international calls, and Israelis are rude.

"Yes, I know that, too bad!"

They are rude, but I think something else may be involved.
He is 6'3". or he was when he left. No one has measured him recently.
He smiles too much.
That part is my fault. I live in Indiana , which means that he grew up in Indiana and he thinks you are supposed to smile a lot.
His being 6'3" is not my fault. It is also not my husband's fault.
Although, maybe it is.
Our fault- because we raised him in Indiana and the only explanation I have for the two of us producing this big boy is that the water here must be radioactive.
So, you see, it is my fault.

But back to why they are rude to my 6'3" son who smiles too much for anyone who is not from Indiana, or maybe also Kentucky.....
Of course they are rude. They are scared.
Even though the kid can't even find his way to the right bus stop, to catch the 12:30 bus.
And he thinks I can't figure that one out.
Sigh.

I told him to call me, tomorrow.
Maybe, I shouldn't have done that.
I am a bit scared what he will say, tomorrow.