Alexa, The Perils of Youth and Old Age by Alexandra Lednichenko

My friend Alexa and I were sitting at my favorite cafe in Haifa, the Kapiot café, discussing my concerns about my age related tipshoot (silly) behavior. I turned sixty five in April. The once twenty minute walk to the cafe now takes thirty. It is more due to the fact that I almost always seem to forget something than physical conditioning. I forgot my ex- wife's birthday for the first time in March. It was on my calendar which I neglected to review. Beautiful young women like Alexa now seem like granddaughters of grade school age. My once healthy appetite for dining has greatly dissipated. Alexa tried to reassure me that things are not as bleak as they seem. "Earl, I do silly things at my age," she mused. She blames her mistakes on being twenty. My buddy is just finishing her military service with the Israeli Army. Alexa recounted this sad tale: 

"I arrived at the Haifa Lev Hamifratz bus station at 7:00 AM this morning. The second that I stepped out of the bus I realized that I won’t be getting to Tel Aviv as planned. The special bus lines that they bring in for soldiers, which I was hoping to board, are only relevant on Sundays. After a short calculation I discovered that today was NOT a Sunday, but a Tuesday. Boarding a train wasn't an option either, as the same rule applies. That was stupid act number one!

I hesitated for a while, shifting my weight on the platform from one foot to another like a ballerina on a warm up. I decided to go to Jerusalem in a hope of catching the 8:45 AM bus to my army base. Two minutes after departure, I realized that I could board a train to Tel Aviv. Since, again, it was not a Sunday (and the public transportation restrictions for soldiers only extend as far as Sundays). Ouch, I goofed again!

My arrival at Jerusalem was at 9:30 AM. The central bus station doesn't quite look and smell like a daisy field of lovely blossoms, but it’s still better than Tel Aviv’s balagan (mad house) of crazy people looking like convicted murderers, blood curdling music and nauseating, poisonous food. I was already quite upset about the earlier degradation in my brain activity, and the fact that I missed the bus didn't help lifting up my spirits. To summarize: I was frustrated, and had loads of time to spare till the next bus to the base (12:45 PM), I was starting to feel hungry. It was a very grim looking state of affairs indeed.

But, of course, a brave young soldier wouldn't let minor misfortunes discourage her. I decided to find a place to sit and roll a cigarette. Humming the “Two and a Half Men” opening theme, I rolled a beautiful cigarette that could be the envy of many. I took a moment to glow with pride in my ever-expanding skill.

Still humming, I went out to the platform to smoke this work of art. There were herds of people outside, many of them soldiers. I smoked quietly oblivious to the rumblings of the world around me.

Upon finishing the cigarette, I approached the door and pushed it. However, to my genuine amazement, it didn't budge. Perfect! I thought to myself, and tried to push it again. Being a rational, quick-witted adult, I reckoned this might be a pull door and not a push door. Therefore, I started looking feverishly for a handle that I could pull. It was then that I heard it.

“Are you getting tired yet”, a voice called to me from behind. I turned to the left to discover an amused looking 'Magav' soldier who was following my actions with a look full of wonder. He might have been a child witnessing the fireworks for the very first time.

“Yes…looks like I don’t even have enough strength to push the damned door.” I cracked something that was meant to be a charming smile, but it turned out to look more like a grimace. He smiled and took a sip from his coke.

"Yeah…well, it’s a window, not a door", he pronounced. "Try the one to your right.” Once again I committed a mental folly.

I blinked at him. For all I knew, he could have just said that a pair of unicorns was giving free haircuts outside the station. Looking to my right I saw a doorknob, a door! I swallowed and pulled it, deciding not to speak for a while. Should I crawl away and hide somewhere? Yes, that would be the right thing to do.

So here I am now… humming no more, feeling like the most mentally challenged creature on the planet. When did this start happening? When did I go all foolish like this? How many people have noticed?

I think I should stop going outside, unless absolutely necessary, I should wear a sign around my neck saying: "dangerous when thinking”. It might clear up lots of confusion…"

I listened to her quietly, when a smile crossed my face. Age has always been a troubling issue. You could be in a place in your life when you're longing to grow up, or quite the opposite - you might have just started thinking about striking a deal with the devil to stop the time from seeping right through your fingers. There is no way around it, since we live on borrowed time and our days are numbered. But upon hearing this amusing story, I came to think that perhaps the only thing we could do to make the living meaningful, is to trick time. Do things inappropriate of your age - eat a steak at 10 AM in the morning, pull a push door, be that strange bird that just wouldn't sit on the perch assigned to it. Be twenty at the age of sixty, be that child that nobody believed you could be. It might just make your sun shine brighter.

Thank you, Alexa, for reassuring me that we all have our weak moments and that age may not be the only issue in my case. 

This is a short update to the post. My friend just completed her military service and is now preparing for her college entrance exams and of course seeking true love. Stay tuned for more about Alexa and life in Haifa Israel.

Flat on My Back in Israel: Part 1 (by Jonah and Earl)

My massage therapist and I are both new immigrants to Haifa Israel. We both trace our roots back to Colorado in The United States. This story is both about Jonah's experiences and about the cultural challenges faced by immigrants to Israel.




 Haifa, Israel from my window

When I was in the United States explains Jonah, I studied massage and reflexology at the Colorado School of Reflexology in Denver, and at Harbin in California. Although I had the training, I never worked professionally as a massage therapist because I wanted to do something more important with my life, but it looked like that’s never going to happen. Moving to Israel and not speaking the language, has me doing massage therapy. It would seem to be a perfect way to make an income especially until my husband David finds a job.

Also, since I’m older now, and my youthful beauty has been replaced by a big fat stomach the likelihood of getting hired for a “real” job is greatly diminished. Sadly, many of our friends and neighbors have experienced age and gender issues in seeking employment in Israel. Human behavior is the same everywhere.


We chose a two bedroom/1 bath apartment, which in Israel is called a three room apartment. The three rooms are the living room and two bedrooms: the kitchen and bathroom are assumed. The building is on what deceitfully appears to be a quiet street. It is quiet in the evenings — after say midnight — and all day on Shabbat. The rest of the time it is pretty noisy with cars, buses and people. What’s weird is the street really isn’t that busy, but it is still loud here nonetheless. Israelis are not quiet people. They love the "brogus" which is a mild dispute accompanied by lots of loud yelling and animated body language. The brogus is a public display most often found in grocery stores, the post office and in any situation involving motor vehicles. Driving is a night mare in this country. I and many of my friends will not buy cars or even drive in this place. 

We wanted a place with an extra bedroom so that I can do massage. It is a good room for massage in being away from the street and having a tremendous view of the Mediterranean Sea and the Haifa port.


Purchasing a massage table was another story. One woman wanted to sell me a table that she used for facials. It was a fine table but not a real massage table. I wisely decided to keep looking and found a massage table dealer in Tel Aviv. He made it sound like he had a warehouse full of massage tables and we schlepped to Tel Aviv to purchase to look at it. His warehouse was a small one-room apartment with about five boxes of new tables. He demonstrated the table and promised it was sturdy and came with a year guarantee. The table was made in China so I had my doubts, but we couldn’t find a table anywhere else so we bought it. I’ve done enough massages to pay for things and now I am in the process of buying sheets and sheets and sheets just in case I actually get busy. Unfortunately, it creaks and squeaks and gives me concerns about breaking and I really doubt the table has a warranty.

What’s more, the dealer said the table was very light-weight and transportable. He carried it for me to the bus stop, and then it was my turn. What was he talking about? That thing weighs a ton. I almost fell over getting on and off the train with that thing. Anyway, it’s home now and business is coming in drubs and drabs.

The good thing about having clients come to the apartment is you have to keep it clean. The bad thing about having clients come to the apartment is you have to keep it clean all the time. Let’s face it, I’m not busy enough to schedule clients at my convenience so I have to give massages at their convenience. In Israel it is a habit to call and want to show up in the next hour or so. If the place is dirty, David and I have to scramble to get the room ready and make the place presentable. I have this toilet thing and won’t do bathrooms. Ick. So that’s David’s job.

Well anyway David’s nephew, Zack, called and wanted to know what we were doing. We knew that meant he was coming for a few days. David asked me if I wanted him, and I said okay. Two hours later Zack arrived. In spite of Zack’s good upbringing, he has turned Orthodox. Israel is a very non- sectarian society in day to day life. Sixty per cent of Israelis refer to themselves as "Hilonim" or not observant. Ten per cent of Israelis are orthodox or "Haredim".  That being the case, Zack can’t eat our food or even use our kitchen supplies. Actually, this is good because I don’t have to cook for him. We have a couch that folds out into a bed, and we were somewhat set for company.

In repayment for our hospitality Zack made a massage flyer for me to post at different areas in town. I did, and received two phone calls. When it comes to advertising, there’s one little problem. I don’t speak Hebrew well enough to understand what someone is saying. The first call was blown. The second call, however, was from a guy who spoke broken English. With my broken Hebrew and his English we managed to make an appointment. It was one of those things where he would be there in an hour.

We hadn’t really cleaned the place up since Zack left and scurried to make the place presentable and the client was here before I could put sheets on the massage table. He looked around and said he would call again in an hour and seemed more curious about the bedroom than the massage room.

Uh-oh. It’s a good thing David was home and he said, “That guy wasn't interested in a therapeutic massage, he wanted the other kind.”

Oh boy, I’m a " professional" now. Well, not really but apparently some people who are reading my sign think so.
jona@greenwolfconsulting.com

Seeking Love on Tu B'Av

My seamstress Haddas is a pleasant looking and rather charming woman of fifty. She was born and raised in Haifa. She comes from a family of ten siblings of Morrocan origin. She insists that her mission in life is to find me a wife. She is divorced but seems happy with her work, friends, hobbies, and most importantly her grandchildren. Emily is two years old today and Daniela is a young lady of four. I enjoy their monthly visits to Haifa. They live in Tel Aviv. Daniela refers to me as the Dod. The Hebrew word for uncle is dod דוד (aunt is doda דודה). In modern Israel, the word Dod is a term used by Israeli children to refer to all male adults whose name they can not pronounce or simply do not know. The name Earl is generally a challenge to pronounce for Israeli children and many adults. I often use my middle name of Joseph to communicate with my Israeli neighbors. 

First, I will tell you about Tu B'Av our version of Valentine's Day and then share my latest quest for true love.

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According to the Talmud, Tu B'Av was a joyous holiday in the days of the Temple in Jerusalem, marking the beginning of the grape harvest . Yom Kippur marked the end of the grape harvest.. On those dates, the unmarried girls of Jerusalem would dress in white garments and go out to dance in the vineyards in the hope of being spotted by an eligible suitor. Tu B'Av was never a holiday of great religious significance and during centuries of Jewish exile was rarely celebrated. In recent decades Israeli civil culture promoted festivals of singing and dancing on the night of Tu B'Av. The entertainment and beauty industries work overtime on this date. It has no formal legal status as a holiday-- it is a regular workday--nor has the Israeli rabbinate initiated any addition to the liturgy or called for the introduction of any ancient religious practices. The cultural gap between Israeli secular society and the Orthodox rabbinate makes it unlikely that these two will find a common denominator in the celebration of this ancient/modern holiday in the foreseeable future.
I did agree to meet a rather attractive female friend of Haddas, named Lena. We celebrated Israeli Valentine's Day together. Lena (not real name) is a tall dark skinned and dark haired Israeli who was born and raised in Haifa. She appears to be in my age range. Lena is retired and enjoys her three children and six grandchildren. I now appreciate the meaning of the term "comedy of errors." Yesterday was Tu B'av and my third date with Lena. Our first two encounters were at the local Japanese restaurant. We ate dinner and each of us drank one Japanese beer and chatted. Lena is a retired pharmacist but shares my two great passions. The efforts to promote peace through interfaith activities in Israel-Palestine. The second is the study of Judaism. The Jewish faith is a knowledge based way of life. Judaism puts a great deal of emphasis on the study of The Torah and Talmud. There have been great debates for three thousand years as to whether knowledge is more important or spiritual fulfillment in the Jewish faith. Both are important of course but I believe that how we practice Jewish values is far more important than the formal study. Lena and I agreed on this very important topic in Israel.

Sadly, our third encounter was not a good one. We added two more potent Japanese ales each to this dining occasion. Lena proceeded to tell me that she felt somewhat deceived by my behavior. I had told her during our first phone conversation that my grasp of Hebrew was solid. She then proceeded to critique my vocabulary, grammar, and Hebrew sentence structure at great length. "you have been here for five years and can't do better than that' Ouch!!!! I calmly thanked her for concerns and suggested a quiet walk at our local park. She agreed and grudgingly admitted that she may have been a bit harsh about my lingual progress. 

Like most Israelis, Lena carries her cell phone with her everywhere and always. Her cell phone rang; she answered it and gasped, as the person calling was trying to reach Lena's mother. "I was visiting my mom this afternoon and we must have switched phones by mistake".  She pleaded with me to make the forty minute trip to her mom's home to switch phones. We took the bus to her mom's home, I was asked to wait outside as "It will just take a minute" It took thirty minutes in the 95 degree and 90 percent humidity summer evening. Moms still come first; therefore, I just smiled and we boarded the return bus to our own neighborhood. Lena surprised me by taking me and kissing me with some degree of passion while we walked to our seats. Yes, the bus lurched and we fell on our tachats (tucheses). Every body on the bus laughed including me with the exception of Lena. We arrived at our stop and as we walked away from the bus stop, Lena quickly and sternly bid farewell with a terse "don't call me, I will call you" ouch again!
I stopped by the next morning to say hello to Hadas, She looked at me and sternly told me that there is no hope for my romantic future. There is a happy ending to the story. Emily and Daniela were visiting the store at the time. Yes they love "The Dod" What greater joy is there in life than sharing precious moments with youngsters. I walked home passing by the Japanese restaurant and stopped to say hello to their greeter, Natasha. She is a twenty five year old immigrant from Russia and my buddy. I told her about my experience with Lena. "I didn't like her anyway" added Natasha. She did have a nice Jewish woman for me named Natalie. Natalie is a different story and for another time.

Chelm Exists in Haifa, Humor in Israel!

Panoramic view of the bay of Haifa

The City of Chelm, Poland

The town of Chełm decided to build a new synagogue. So, some strong, able-bodied men were sent to a mountaintop to gather heavy stones for the foundation. The men put the stones on their shoulders and trudged down the mountain to the town below. When they arrived, the town constable yelled, "Foolish men! You should have rolled the stones down the mountain!" The men agreed this was an excellent idea. So they turned around, and with the stones still on their shoulders, trudged back up the mountain, and rolled the stones back down again.


Allow me to introduce myself. I am Earl Shugerman, a proud immigrant to Haifa Israel of five years. I moved to Israel at age of fifty eight from Colorado. Why did I make this dramatic change in my life? There are many reasons. The most important is that I firmly believe that the return of the Jewish people to the land of our roots is destiny. It is a destiny with spiritual, religious, social, and political implications that have already proven to have historical implications. Haifa was my choice of city in this incredibly complicated and diverse nation.Haifa (Hebrew: חֵיפָה‎‎, Hebrew pronunciation: [χeiˈfä], Ḥefa; Arabic: حيفا‎ Ḥayfā[2]) is the largest city in northern Israel, and the third-largest city in the country, with a population of over 268,000. Haifa is a mixed city: 90% are Jews, more than a quarter of whom are immigrants from the former Soviet Union, while 10% are Arabs, predominantly of the Christian faith. It is also home to the Baha'i World Centre, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.


Built on the slopes of Mount Carmel, the history of settlement at the site spans more than 3,000 years. Over the centuries, the city has changed hands numerous times. It has been conquered and ruled by the Phoenicians, Persians, Hasmoneans, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Crusaders, Ottomans, British, and the Israelis. Since the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, the city has been governed by the Haifa Municipality. The weather is balmy although a bit cold at times in the winter. There are two major universities, a large and well known tech center and lots of parks and fun things to do. My famous place to hike is Park Carmel. Our region’s most famous resident was Elijah the Prophet. He reportedly lived his nomadic live in the Carmel Mountain Range. 

I have enjoyed many blessings and faced many obstacles in adjusting to my new home. One of the greatest obstacles to overcome is to learn a new language especially at my age.


Israel offers newcomers the opportunity to study in an Ulpan. It is a four hour a day program where new immigrants study Hebrew and receive some orientation to their new homeland. Private tutoring is available at a fee. I chose to both attend the Ulpan and receive private assistance. My tutor Elinor Kimmel used the children’s stories about the citizens of Chelm as our study guide. 

Almost every culture around the world has developed stories about fools in their midst. It’s a way of gently poking fun at themselves. In Jewish folklore we find a wonderful mythical town in Poland called Chelm located in Poland in the days of old. The residents are usually happy, gentle folk who also share another virtue – they are considered fools by everyone living outside of Chelm. But the Chelmites know they are the great sages of the world, the brightest of bright. Stories of their antics have adorned Jewish humor and folklore for centuries.

...Two men of Chelm went out for a walk, when suddenly it began to rain. “Quick,” said one. “Open your umbrella.”It won’t help,” said his friend. “My umbrella is full of holes.”

“Then why did you bring it? “I didn't think it would rain!”…
My favorite cafe in Haifa is the Ego Panorama. The owner is a long time resident of Haifa named Hannah. Hannah’s family came to Israel in 1948 from Poland. They were fortunate and thankful to have escaped the horrors of the Holocaust. I sat down yesterday to eat and study my beloved Chelm stories at The Ego. Hannah came over to me and began to giggle in a good nature way. “My family is from Chelm” she informed me with great glee. The city really exists! It is a nice sized community in Poland of no particular distinction other than its contribution to the world of humor.

Britt, Katia, and Danit

The greatest joy that I have derived from my immigration to Israel is learning about the great diversity of culture and history that this nation has to offer. I can visit the Sea of Galilee, Jerusalem. And Tel Aviv in the same day! Israel is a nation of Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Druze and other citizens. In many cases we manage to live together with a fair degree of harmony. Israel is a nation of immigrants from virtually every nation on earth. It is common to sit at The Ego and listen to fellow diner’s converse in several languages!