Earthquaaaake(s) (!)

This blog post actually started about two months when Penina's school did a two day earthquake training for the tenth graders (we think it's country-wide for that age, but, hey, like so many things in this country, we really have no idea), since Israel lies on a pretty major earthquake fault line and is supposed to get a "big one" every 100 years or so (and the last one was in 1927, so, yeah, eek).  She described the entire first day as being made up of terrifying videos of earthquakes and their effects, and was not particularly excited for school the next day, assuming it would be more of the same.  She came home totally energized and had had an amazing day learning how to do search-and-rescue, even getting certified as a first responder (with a laminated card that's supposed to actually get her across police barriers [should she so choose/should we so permit]).  The highlight of the day was learning how to use a sledgehammer, after having been taught by the (female) instructors who, with ease, smashed concrete blocks into smithereens.  The upshots were: 1) "using a sledgehammer is a lot of fun" and 2) "don't worry, Israel--if there's a giant earthquake, the tenth graders will save you"😱

Fast forward to last week, when our whole family was woken up smack in the middle of the night by a giant crashing sound.  Half-asleep, we tried to figure out if there was any reason to take action (like go to our "safe room").  Hearing nothing else, we all went back to sleep.  In the morning, I woke up to find this on our balcony:

Which was from the lintel of the doorway to our mirpeset

They sure do build buildings thick around here, eh?!  NOW you see why the tenth graders need to learn to use sledgehammers.

The following night, we were all together in the living/dining room when something odd started happening.  I looked down at my feet, trying to figure out why they were going up and down.  Penina figured it out first and yelled, "EARTHQUAAAAAKE!  EVERYBODY OUTSIDE!" So clearly the training did have its positive effects (and can I mention how proud Nurse Ellen is that her daughter is so safety-oriented?!).  We ran out into the street and discovered that......we were the only ones there.  Because of course the Anglo olim run into the street ;).  Some neighbors didn't even feel it.  Turns out it was only a 4.5 quake, so it counts as one that is felt but not big.

But here's the kicker.  The next day, Penina said, "I wonder if there was an earthquake the night before and THAT'S what made the concrete fall down on the mirpeset?" and Shalom Shachne said he had been wondering the same thing (oops.  Hadn't occurred to me.  I just figured it was shoddy construction).  So we snooped around and found out

Yup, a few minutes before 3 a.m. there had been a 2.7 earthquake.  Not strong enough to be felt, except by our house, I guess!

In sum, Penina seems to have a future as a seismologist.  Or perhaps a gold-medal sledgehammer-ist.  The possibilities are endless!

Passports

Today is the one year anniversary of the US Embassy being moved to Jerusalem.  In honor of that fact (although truthfully it's because I just went to the embassy yesterday), here is my post about renewing US passports.  I didn't think there would be much/anything to say about the process, but I actually found our "quickest trip ever to the US" to be pretty interesting.

First off, the security Jazzy-Our-Car went through was the most intense she's ever undergone since we've owned her.  Two security guards worked her over--running over the outside with explosives-detecting paper, looking under the car with what I would describe as a mirror stuck on a long-handled dust pan, searching the trunk and then searching the engine (having just driven 45 minutes through rush hour traffic, aside from some blatant Wile E. Coyote-type bomb with an alarm clock and a few sticks of dynamite, I wasn't sure what they could see/do in our hot engine, but, then again, I'm not a security expert).

We then waited in the rather long and slow-moving line for American citizens (as opposed to the rather long and slow-moving line for non-citizens applying for travel visas).  I spoke English with reckless abandon, because, hey, I was on US soil(ish.  Google tells me that's not really true).  Although, sadly, the majority of people working outside the embassy were Arab speakers, so it still felt inappropriate to speak English.

At the initial security check, all cell phones were checked in and not returned until we left (having been to the Israeli embassy in Boston before we made aliyah, I was expecting this).  It was fascinating to walk into the main waiting room and find....people TALKING!  Interacting with those they came with and total strangers!  It was CRAZY!  And a stunning contrast to the previous week when I had gone to a similarly large waiting room in our local government and it had been eerily silent as everyone stared down at their phones and ignored everyone else....

When our number was finally called, the guy at the window told me we needed to do one more thing before finalizing the paperwork and we should come back to him after completing it.  "Okay," I said, "and what's your name?" figuring I might need to tell security with whom I needed to speak.  "I can't tell you that" was the response!  I didn't realize working at the embassy was such a high security position, but, then again, if you're an Israeli Arab, maybe it is.

The young man who finalized all our forms had an accent that sounded so familiar I almost asked him where he was from.  He beat me to it after looking at our paperwork, and we found a "landsman" formerly from Worcester :)

last picture I was able to snap before being told "no photos".  Oops!

Post-Pesach

Posting (quite sheepishly) very late for Passover, but I can't let it go by because we had SUCH a good time when my Auntie Paula, Uncle Steven and cousins Jen and Shmulie and their kids Sela and Coby visited.

It was SO special having family we are super close with come and visit (Jen and Shmulie's house is our de facto NY stop and we love spending Shabbos with them.  In fact, when they left, we told them not to worry if they left anything here because Shalom Shachne, Batsheva and Chana would be at their house for Shabbos in only three weeks for Chana's college graduation [woohoo, Chana!])

Here is Auntie Paula ("AP") in front of a painting that her father brought back after visiting Israel in the 1960s. 



Me: "AP--I heard that Grandpa Jack brought this painting back on his lap on the plane". 
AP: "Well, the way I heard it, the painting was rolled up in a tube".
Me: "Oh.  That's kind of disappointing.  I liked my version better!"

Anyway, there was lots of family bonding time:

And we did some pretty unusual things  (By the way, Sela was a natural :)

And some usual things for Pesach.  Like eating a lot!

It was so nice to have family here and let the pressure of "what are we doing on chol hamoed that's totally awesome and amazing because we don't have Sundays here, so there's very little time off aside from these intermediate holiday days, so we better make them count"--let that all just go away with the answer of "We're visiting AP, US and the cousins today".  And that plan always made everyone very, very happy.