Day 1: Mission Beseder

The word beseder is Hebrew for "good" or "ok" or in many instances "shut up, go away, I got this." That's how my family uses it anyway. Day 1 after landing, it's 6 or 7 am local time (not sure), and I'm sipping my instant coffee with lots of cream and sugar on my aunt and uncle's patio, realizing that I have to write this sh...stuff down. So here is a synopsis:

The flight was fairly tolerable. A total of 26 hours. We got grilled by the Israeli security team on the last leg of our trip before hopping a flight from Zurich directly to Tel Aviv. And by 'grilled' I mean asked confusing questions at the gate about why my last name is different than my mother's last name, and why we don't live in the same town, and who we know in Israel, etc. The questions made me doubt my own damn self. And by 'security' I mean a sweet girl in her early twenties and her supervisor who was a hot version of Waldo from Where Is Waldo. So far so good :)

As soon as I nestle into my 3rd airplane seat to take my cripple nap, I get jabbed by my mom's elbow. "Hey, they are going to feed us, wake up." What? Food? Why? No thanks, just trying to make it a few more hours without snags or nausea. Go away, I'm sleeping. But no boys and girls, they food was served, and it was the best airplane food I've had. Ever. Tender beef with jasmine rice and fig sauce, warm pita bread, a fresh cabbage and raisin salad. To use a more eloquent term – nom. A short time later the plane landed so smoothly that we didn't even realize we were on taxing. Turns out the pilots of this particular airline are mostly ex-military fighter pilots. They've got the special touch. :) Olga getting happier by the minute.

Have I mentioned that everyone smiles and speaks perfect English (along with 2 or 3 other languages)? Mom and I usually like to talk smack in Russian about other people out loud. It's our thing. No one can understand us, but here we learned to filter our Russian too. The hard way. Well, I learned to filter. Mom still says the first thing that comes to mind as per usual.

After a few other security checks, we are greeted VERY enthusiastically by my uncle, aunt, and cousin. And by that I mean bulldozed by hugs, awkward photos, and taking over our luggage because "you are not to lift a finger when you're here, you're guests!" And the loud-ness begins. It's not that they are yelling, or arguing (which they are, all the time, about everything). It's the pitch. How I much I have missed them. I haven't seen my cousin since we were both 8 and after maybe 5-10 minutes we were right where we left off. Except for the fact that we both speak English with a sprinkle of Russian and Hebrew unlike when we were kids when it was just Russian. Epiphany #1: it's a mad world.

My new favorite word is teraga or teragi. It means "calm down" or "chill the fk out."

There are giant palm trees, it's humid and breezy. Jackets? Don't be stupid! The evening unravels with a 1 hr commute to HaNegev, the kibutz (or a community/village really) where they live to meet up with the rest of the family. Their house, like all houses here, is very modest. Small 2 bedrooms 2 bathrooms, a yard, and a what seems to be a revolving door with all their friends and neighbors coming and going at all hours. It's real. We feast upon chicken. We drink coffee with lots of foamy cream. We drink tequila per my mom's insistence. We reconnect, which doesn't take any effort.

The internet is funny here! My Google landing page is mostly in Hebrew, with the scroll bar on the left. I have no idea what the plan is for today. I'll keep you posted.