Culture Shock

Hot water on demand is only available in Israel if you're willing to pay for it. Our apartment has an on/off switch for the hot water heater, and you have to turn it on a hour before taking a shower or washing dishes.  That's not what shocked me -- although a minor inconvenience, a great way to save energy.  Energy costs are very high.  For instance, gasoline is 7.11 shekels a liter which converts to $6.95 a gallon.

People dry their clothes the old fashioned way, on a clothesline.  Every apartment has a clothesline strung where you can lean out your windows and hung up clothes.  Apartment units don't have coin operated  washing machines and dryers.  If you want your want your clothes washed in a machine -- rather than by hand -- you need to take your laundry to a laundromat.  Except laundromats here are not like what's in the United States.  No, you take it to the laundromat and the person who works there does the laundry for you.  You pay by the kilogram.  That's not what shocked me either.

Nor did the food shopping situation shock me.  I expected small corner markets with strange looking food, like the baked "chicken" we purchased.  At the first market, the pre-cooked chicken we purchased and took home was delicious.  A few days later at another market we decided to do the same thing.  I guess we didn't look at the container well enough because when we got it home, it was not a breast and thigh, it was a wing.  Except it was way too large to be a chicken wing, and we thought it was a turkey wing perhaps.
Well, that thing didn't taste like turkey.  We can't figure out what it was.  But buying the wrong food in a foreign country is to be expected.  Live and learn, no shock there.

Nope, the culture shock occurred on Day-1 as David and I walked home from our first food quest excursion.  In Israel, like in California, there are designated cross walks where oncoming vehicles must give the pedestrian the right of way.  However, it would be stupid to step out in the street without looking.

We had just crossed one such walk and a cute little girl around six -- maybe 7 -- years old with her younger brother came up and said something to me.  She spoke in Hebrew, so I didn't understand a word.  She was so cute and all alone, I wanted to help fearing she was lost and looking for her mommy.  I said, "Ah-nee lo may-vee-nah E-vreet. (I don't understand Hebrew)." To which she responded by talking in Hebrew wanting whatever she was wanting.

David correctly assessed the situation, and told me to, "Get with the program."  He took the little girl's hand and guided the children across the street.  He left them alone to continue on their way, and we went on home.  "It was obvious they just wanted to cross the street," he said.

Our conversation continued something like this:

Me: What kind of parent sends their children off without supervision and allows them to talk to strangers?

Him:  We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.  Welcome to Israel where children are not allowed to play in the street."

Me:  Yes, but, we're strangers.

Him:  Like I said, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Me:  First, we were never in Kansas, but since when is it okay for children to talk to strangers?"

Him:  This is Israel, it's a different culture, different land.  What's more, Jews are a great big tribe and we're all related in some way so there are no strangers.

Me:  Oh, please. Don't you think her parents are being naive?  I mean, come on, you can't tell me there's no pedophiles in Israel or, you know, other sicko's who might harm children.

Him (actually being somewhat thoughtful):  Maybe there is something inherent in American culture that allows that stuff to exist and not so much here.

Me: What would it be?  Even when I was a kid, I was warned never-ever to talk to strangers.

Him: Well, in Judaism everything is centered around the family and maybe children don't get raised in such away that turns them into perverts.

Me:  Hmm.  The only Jews who ever told me about their happy childhood were those who for some reason or another celebrated Christmas.  Mostly, I hear a lot of kvetching about childhood memories...in particular from you.

Him:  I didn't say it was necessarily a happy childhood; I just said we were possibly raised in such a way to prevent that.

Needless to say, children allowed to wander on their own and go up to strangers for help in crossing the street was quite the shock for me.  David thinks it is a sign that this country is a safe one.  I hope so.