I hate the Shuk. I hate the fishy odor that wafts only at the entrances. I hate feeling other people's sweat drip onto me. I hate that I don't know how much anything costs because I can't understand if shesh esrey means sixteen shekels or six shekels and ten agurot (agurot like cents). I hate how I can't buy all my groceries there. I feel uncomfortable and immodest in my blue jeans and sweatshirt.
I love the Shuk. I love the smell of fresh pita that swims through the air. I love the crowded pushy people who don't care that you've been waiting three minutes to pay for your items. I love that everything is so cheap. I love that you can taste the spices and dried fruit and no one will say anything. I love how there is a diamond store amongst the fruit stands. I love the chatter of bargaining and the announcements of how much bananas are.
What I hate about the Shuk is also what I love about it. In order to get to the Shuk, the bus I take passes through one of the really Orthodox neighborhoods, Mea Shearim. Most of the time I don't notice that I'm in jeans and a t-shirt, but when the bus passes through the neighborhood, I suddenly become self aware with not only the way I'm dressed, but how I am dressed. By the time the bus arrives at the Shuk, a sea of black and white have taken over. Except me in my bright pink shirt.
I also sort of feel this way when I walk to work. The Wolfson Towers are well-known building that has no religious affiliation. People from my program have gone there for doctors appointments. But, it's located in an Orthodox community. Most of the teachers are religious, although this has a lot to do with the fact that for many of them, this is their Year of Service, instead of serving in the Army. Still, I'm surrounded by long skirts, long sleeves, and Naot sandals. All the girls where them. There are maybe three teachers who wear jeans. Some of the other volunteers aren't religious either, but when they leave at 12, there's just me.
The other day at school, I arrived an hour before lunch time when the kids were starting Massage Therapy. I was told I wasn't needed and could go take a break. Apparently this woman didn't realize that I had just arrived. I wasn't needed, though, because there were seven instructors (teachers and therapists) and seven kids. And me. I sat down anyway knowing I would have free time in a little bit when the kids took their nap. As I was observing and trying to understand what was happening, one of the little girls reached her hands out to me and started crying. Massage Therapy isn't so hard that I couldn't follow along with everyone else. The teacher (this was a volunteer) could have easily given me the child and she would have been happy the whole time. Instead, she cried and fussed and the teacher asked me (yes, I'm sure she was serious. yes, I'm sure that's what she asked me) "why does she like you?" Excuse me? These kids know me! I've been with them for 25 hours a week for the past month. You're with them for four hours a week once a week. They're not going to remember you as well as me. No offense or anything, but a child of year may find your face familiar, but they may not feel comfortable with you if you don't see them regularly. The other two girls in the class have also taken a liking to me. The one that always cried when I touched her gave me a smile today and played with me. I don't blame her for not liking me at first. I'm a stranger who is picking her up and making her wash her hands. The other girl is completely blind, but I think she knows my voice and my touch. When I pick her up she automatically wraps her arms and legs around me.
After being at work, speaking Hebrew and listening to Hebrew, it's weird to go home and hear English. Both are completely different languages. They have different word flow and letter formation. I'm not talking about the physical letters, but the verbal aspect. Hebrew comes from your throat. To me as a foreigner of the language, it sounds like someone is speaking with their mouth full. English, however, sounds more musical and smoother. When I say English, I mean all versions of English. In Hebrew, the letters are spoken more softly than in English which I think is why when Americans speak Hebrew it's so obvious. The word "Lomed" (to learn), for example, uses the tongue behind the teeth. Your tongue dances on the roof of your mouth. But Americans pronounce each letter with more emphasis. The tongue darts in front of your teeth. It also doesn't help the as soon as I say a word with "rrr" in it, everyone knows I'm a foreigner. In Hebrew, the R sound is said with your throat, but in English, it is made with the shape of your tongue. Both languages, however, are beautiful to listen to.
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