A Failure to Communicate and "Buster" a Move

So, while the biggest game of the season is on the line right now, I am stuck in my dorm room trying to speak to the Dell computer company, via SKYPE which is the greatest technological advancement since the electronic tooth brush (Thank you Brian, you crazy bastard for introducing me), on why the Dell computer company has erroneously charged my credit card twice for the notebook I purchased 2 months ago. People complain about the red tape in Israel, but I can't escape the ridiculous pitfalls of shoddy American customer service.

Since I moved into my dorm at Ulpan Etzion last week, life has been very fast paced. I am finally situated in the posh, Crown Plaza accommodations known as communal living. Surprisingly, the food isn’t that bad (Maya keeps us entertained at meals) and the social interaction has been amazing. Thanks to our South American delegation, we seem to have a hamesiba or fiesta every night. I have never met so many sexy Latina American chicas before. I am slowly learning to salsa. You can look for me next season on the Israeli version of dancing with the stars. I have bonded with many of the Americans and especially the motley crew of British gals; you don’t speak English properly, but I still love you all the same. My roommate is the second coming of Renaldo, but his name is Tito and he's from Chile. Needless to say football (soccer) is KING around here. It's a good thing I played baseball for 10 years, or I might actually be relevant on the football field. My ulpan class (Hebrew lessons) is not too overwhelming so I don’t fall asleep out of boredom and not too challenging that I need to ask, "What does that mean in English?" a million times. We have a crazy, eclectic group of young French, American, Brazilian, Italian, Ethiopian, South African, British, Argentinean, and Russian Jews. I have never been so proud to be Jewish (except when Dana International won the Eurovision contest representing Israel a few years ago) than during my brief time here at Ulpan Etzion. We have come from all over the World: industrialized countries, famine stricken, and economically oppressed lands to receive Israeli citizenship. Olim Chadashim are the future of Israel and the Jewish people, and I am glad to play a small role.

Several of us went to shul for Friday night services and the meal at the ulpan was nice. We sang all the familiar Shabbat melodies and afterwards celebrated Ezra's 23rd birthday. On Saturday, I davened (prayed) with my face comfortably planted on my pillow. When I finally awoke, I had lunch, a walk, Havdalah (the ending ceremony of Shabbat), dinner, and than I did homework. The internet was down Motsei Shabbat (after Shabbat) so to all 5 of my loyal readers I must apologize. I will try to publish posts sooner in the future, but please remember this is Israel and nothing works: early, on time, after 4 P.M. on Thursday, or with any degree of high efficiency. It feels like it’s about 30 below inside, Qassams continue to rain down on the Negev, the bathrooms flood, every Israeli speaks English to us (even those olim who don’t know English), many of us haven’t registered for national health care, some of us are poorer than dirt, the laundry machines are always occupied, but life in Israel couldn’t be any better. I’ve never gone without this long by this much while maintaining such a big, satisfied grin on my face.