I must dedicate the first part of this entry to two of my favorite Israeli beverages – choco-be-sakit and ice café. Choco-be-sakit is a bit of a novelty because of it’s packaging. It is chocolate milk in a bag. Why they chose to do this, I’m not sure, because you open the bag by biting the corner off with your teeth and then sucking out the drink. There is no way to set a half finished bag of chocolate milk down on a table without it spilling everywhere. The chocolate milk itself tastes heavenly though. Tami informed us that they are starting to phase out the bag packaging, and it’s getting harder to find in stores. This news made Don very sad, so we stocked the fridge with as many choc-be-sakits as we could fit.
My other drink obsession, ice café, is essentially an Israeli frappuccino. Typically served from a slurpee machine, ice café is amazingly refreshing in the blistering heat. I can’t explain why it tastes so much better than a Starbucks drink, but it just does. They tried to bring the Starbucks brand to Israel, but with an already flourishing coffee house culture established, it was a complete failure.
Today I got my first ice café of the trip in Herzeliya. We went to the Marina, an upscale mall on the ocean with it’s own beach. The beach was absolutely packed with Israeli high school kids, and we later found out it was their first day of summer break. There were some intense games of matkot going on, a beach game with wood paddles and a rubbery ball that is hit back and forth. We tried to buy our own matkot set, but because of inflation, they were charging 150 shekels for them- about $40.
We gave up at the beach and tried to find a place to eat lunch. We settled on a fish restaurant and were seated at a table. The waitress barely acknowledged us, and came over a few minutes later and threw a stack of menus on the table apathetically. In general, I find that people in Israel come in two extremes. Either they are incredibly warm and go out of their way to make you comfortable, or they treat you like they are doing you a favor. The attitude of the waitress upset Nevo so much, that we decided to take our business elsewhere.
We relocated to a bistro with an ocean view on the Namal Tel Aviv. It just so happens that the opening scene of one of my favorite films- Waltz With Bashir, took place in this location, and large screen shots from the film hung on the wall. Don’s cousin Sagi surprised us and showed up on his bicycle. After eating, we walked the entire boardwalk into the heart of the city. We kept walking until the sun set and I fell asleep in an air conditioned McDonalds, waiting for Ofir to pick us up and drive home. It was the first night I slept past 6 am.
Day Six: Yom Vav
Since it was the day of Tali’s wedding, we wanted to take it easy, knowing we would be up all night. My uncle Pini and aunt Vered own a spa in Tel Aviv, so I called them and set up appointments for Nevo and Joanna as an anniversary treat. We were all ready to do, but when we tried to start the car we realized the battery was dead. The rental company sent a mechanic, but the wait time was uncertain- first they said fifteen minutes, then they said three hours. We cancelled the spa plan and decided to stay around Tel Mond instead.
I think Tel Mond is bad luck for cars. On my last trip to Israel, when my cousin Danielle was picking me up at Tami’s house, she took a wrong turn, drove over a boulder, and cut her brake fluid line. Despite all of that, I would rather wait out car troubles, than have the responsibility of driving in Israel. Everyone here has a tiny car that is covered in dirt, they weave in and out of traffic, and cut you off without signaling. Nevo says, “it’s like everyone here is playing Mariocart”.
Parking habits are also questionable. There is an ongoing competition for who can spot the worst parking job. When no parking spot is available in a parking lot, people frequently just create their own and abandon their car wherever there is space. I’ve seen cars parked on medians, facing the wrong direction, or scraping the bumper of the car behind them. Israeli’s seem nonchalant about all the bad driving. A woman was making a u-turn in front of us, but stopped halfway- perpendicular to oncoming traffic. The guy in the car trying to pass her rolled down his window and shouted, “You are not blocking the road at all!”
In the evening, we all got dressed up and headed to Tali’s wedding venue just as the sun was setting. It was located in an area with many farms and orchards. We drove down windy dirt roads, and arrived at a gorgeous grassy clearing with white furniture scattered under trees with lanterns hanging from the branches. There was a large dance floor, several appetizer stations, an open bar, and a cappuccino barista. Though we were among the first to arrive, the place was soon filled with over 300 guests, which I’m told is small for an Israeli wedding. At about 9 pm, everyone was summoned over to the chuppah for the wedding ceremony. It was hard to see what was going on, because the crowd was so big, but Nir and Tali exchanged their vows, and I could hear a glass being shattered as Nir stepped on it, a Jewish wedding custom to remind us of the destruction of the second temple.
The dinner buffets were opened and the guests mingled and ate. We kept finding Don’s little cousin Noam getting into trouble; trying to grab the coi fish from the pond with his bare hands, chasing all the little girls, and stealing sugar packets from the coffee station. The DJ started blaring an eclectic mix of electronic music, Hebrew and Arabic dance music, and 80’s American pop songs. Don preferred revisiting the dessert buffet to dancing. Though the couple getting married was Moroccan, this wedding was more traditionally Ashkenazic, or European, in style. I guess with Tali’s Hina party, they got the best of both worlds.
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