Mud, mud, glorious mud

One of the benefits of living in Arad is that we're only a 20-minute drive away from the lowest point on Earth (on land, that is). Yes, I'm talking about the Dead Sea. 418 metres below sea level, home to Masada, Ein Gedi, and dozens of luxury "Spa" Hotels.
For those who haven't been here before, here's what to do at the Dead Sea: Have a bit of a dip (marvel at the sensation of floating so buoyantly in the water, take some pics of yourself or someone else floating on their back while reading a newspaper, etc.). Then, rinse off, exfoliate with big sea crystals so you're ready to shmear yourself with Dead Sea Mud, all over, lie in the sun for a bit, then rinse off again in the super-mineralized Dead Sea waters.

After doing this, your skin feels sooo slippery smooth and silky that it would make a baby's bottom feel like sandpaper by comparison. So smooth that one has to remind oneself not to spend too much time rubbing one's own newly smooth skin and cooing with pleasure, lest one attract the wrong kind of attention.

However, things aren't all sunshine and lollipops for the Dead Sea itself. The water levels are dropping, due to diversions of water from the Jordan River further north, and evaporation ponds associated with the Dead Sea mineral works. It's been proposed that a canal be built to transport water from the Red Sea or the Mediterranean. See, the 400m drop in height from sea level means it could be possible to create hydro-electric power and a desalinisation plant. Since the Dead Sea lies on the border, this would be a cooperative project between Jordan and Israel. You can read more about the proposed idea here. (NB. I just fixed this link, thanks Ben!)

Another thing I'm getting used to (Part 2)

...is calculating the time difference to New Zealand so I know when it's possible (or should I say reasonable) to send text messages, and when emails are likely to land in my inbox. Since you guys (I'm talking to you guys in NZ) are 9 hours ahead of me, my morning email check is usually a joyous one, as I discover all kinds of new and exciting messages and info from home. But after that, the rest of the day is an email desert because you guys are all sleeping (or you should be!). And, like the email addict I am, one "hit" a day never seems to be enough.

Before I left Welly, Josie gave me a bit of traveller's wisdom. She said "Now Rach, I have to warn you that when you are away, you will be emailing your friends and family and they will email you back, but they might not reply as fast as you would like, but just remember, it doesn't mean they don't love you". I know now exactly what she means. Actually most of my nearest and dearest have been great at staying in touch, so I have news and updates almost (if not) daily. But of course, as they say in the Air New Zealand TV ads, "being there is everything" - and I have to admit I miss "being there" - even though "being here" is amazing and exciting and I'm very glad to be here. But if only I could teleport home for the occasional weekend visit...

Things I'm getting used to (Part 1)

Y'know how it is when you move to a new country, and at first things are kind of weird and different, but pretty soon they start to seem very routine? Here's a few things that I'm getting very used to already:

1) Showers with three taps (one for hot, one for cold, and one for on/off).
2) Going out for a walk or run, and coming across a herd of camels grazing in a vacant lot.
3) Squeegeeing the bathroom floor after a shower.
4) Drinking tons and tons of water even when i'm not thirsty

ummm... I'm sure there are some other things...will have to add to this list later!!

The WUJS routine

I have now been here at WUJS Arad a little over a week, and I'm just beginning to get clear on our general weekly "routine". Up till now it's been a little confusing because we had an "orientation" week, and then we began this week with Yom HaZikaron (memorial day) and Yom Ha'atzmaut (Israel Independence Day), so things have been a little frenetic. Today we spent most of the day at a Yom Ha'atzmaut BBQ in a local Arad park, chilling, eating, reading, and playing (or in my case learning to play) shesh besh.

But anyway here's a precis of a normal week: We have Hebrew Ulpan (Hebrew language classes) for 3 hours a day on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. On Tuesdays, we do a"study tour" - basically a field trip to learn about some topic by going to see it. Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays we also have seminars in three different streams: Judaism stuff on Mondays with Artie Fischer, Israeli society and culture stuff on Wednesdays with Steve Israel, and Middle East Politics stuff on Thursday with Neil Lazarus. On Sundays we also have special stuff according to which WUJS track we are on - e.g. Arts (AP), Land Language and Society (LLS), or Peace and Social Justice (PSJ) - I am PSJ. So there is also a whole series of trips and seminars related to that. Sundays and Mondays we have some sort of evening activity. Classes end 5.30pm on Thursday, and we have Friday and Saturday off as our weekend.

Busy Busy!!

It's great though, I am loving being a student again. Next week we also get to meet our "adopted families" - these are local families from Arad who we can go and visit, practice our Hebrew with, etc. I am not sure how much Hebrew I can learn in the 2.5 months I'm in Arad, but I really want to because I hate not being able to talk to Israelis in their own language!

As for other "routine" aspects of life, I haven't joined a gym yet but I think I probably will. The two gyms here are tiny, one is very expensive but has a pool, and the other is cheaper. I am missing Les Mills a lot, but in the meantime we have been doing a lot of walking, a bit of hiking. A couple of times I even got out of bed in the morning and went for a run. I kind of need to, as we seem to spend a lot of time eating here!

Lying in the middle of a crater

I have just returned from a 2-day tiyul (trip/hike) in the Negev desert. As our "opening tiyul" for WUJS, we went to the large and small Makhtesh (crater - but a very specific kind of crater formed by geomorphological processes, not from a volcano or a meteor or comet impact). The first day we hiked down into, and across, the small makhtesh and camped in tents on the outer rim. Today we walked through a beautiful winding canyon to the Arava valley. I was a very happy camper (though it seems not all the WUJys are cut out for camping!).

The Negev is so beautiful, and our guide - another Rachel - had a gift for eloquently weaving together stories about the natural and cultural history of our surroundings and helping us to appreciate where we were at each moment.

At one point, after lunch, she had us lie down in the middle of the makhtesh just to listen to the sounds and the silence of the desert. Once everyone stopped shuffling their feet and zipping their bags, the silence was blissful. A few weeks ago in Welly, I think it would have been pretty hard for me to imagine myself lying in the middle of a crater in the Negev....

I am so happy right now

It's a good thing that I am so easily pleased. Right now I am about three strawberries short of complete bliss, having just come back from the once-a-week Arad shuk (market) with a "granny wagon" loaded to the brim with fresh fruit and veges. Those of you who know me will already have detected the two key sources of my current joy: yes, I have a brand new granny wagon, it's not quite as beautiful as my red tartan one in Welly (hope you're enjoying it, Michelle!), but very capacious and I can already tell it's going to get a lot of use! And of course, there are few things that I love more in this life than a granny wagon loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables, and here in Israel fresh produce is unbelievably good and unbelievably cheap. In the face of such temptation I couldn't hold back; when my wagon was groaning and threatening to capsize under the weight of my delicious bounty, I knew I had to stop. Adding this to the bread, tuna, and giant tub of hummus I bought at the supermarket this morning, I am set for the week, thanks very much!!

Ani B'Eretz

Well finally, here I am in Israel!! I am kind of a little tired right now so will save my first "real" blog posting for tomorrow, I think.
Meantime to keep you amused here is a pic of me with Patrick Starfish!! Yeah Patrick!!

It just blows my aura right off, y'know?

This afternoon I'll fly out of Albequerque, my 5 and a bit days in New Mexico having come to an end. It has been great here but WAY cold - comparable to a Wellington southerly snap. My face has been dry and inflamed because of the wind, and even the gentlest fragrance-free moisturiser stings when I apply it to my poor skin.
Me smiling through the pain of coldness


While here, I hiked around Bandelier National Monument; we went up to Taos and stayed in the historic Mabel Dodge Luhan House.
Taos is an artsy little colony near the ski mountains, full of galleries and shops and alternative hippy types. At a Taos cafe, the barista (a young woman) commented this of the chilly wind: "I feel like it just like, blows my aura off, y'know?" (Yes, they're her words, not mine. But I get what she was saying!)
Outside Taos we stopped in to visit The Greater World Earthship Community, the world HQ of Earthships, a totally sustainable self-powered form of housing. The walls of these homes are made from tyres rammed with earth, cans and bottles help to fill in space and add decorative qualities to an adobe finish.

Yesterday I spent a whole day wandering around Santa Fe, looking at galleries and shops and amazingly, buying nothing! The most beautiful things i saw were some glass sculptures by Christopher Ries at the Wiford Gallery

I ate so much good New Mexican food while I was here, had two great hot pool experiences, and mucho quality time with Brenna. Next time I come to NM, though, I hope it is hot and sunny!!

Ed vs. the Military-Industrial Complex

Los Alamos is a strange place. This small sleepy town on the New Mexican plateau glows an eerie red at night, and odd rumbling sounds can be heard at unpredictable times of the day. Why? Los Alamos is home to LANL, the Los Alamos National Laboratory, where for the last 60 years, thousands of scientists and technologists have worked day and night to build and maintain the United States' nuclear defense arsenal.

Ed Grothus worked at LANL for 20 years, helping to increase the efficiency and destructive power of Nuclear Warheads. During the Vietnam war, Ed left LANL and began a campaign to change the hearts and minds of the leaders and decision-makers towards peace and nuclear disarmament. I met Ed, now perhaps in his 80s, when Brenna took me to visit the Black Hole. This old converted supermarket is now an incredible and macabre junk-shop, stacked floor to ceiling with salvaged equipment, materials, and other objects from LANL.



Ed's campaign for peace is earnest and heartfelt. When he heard I was from New Zealand, he pulled out all stops, giving me and Brenna a dedicated tour and shpiel for a good 45 minutes. First, he showed us a 10-minute video which was never meant to be screened outside LANL, in which the department's then head of nuclear development gave a presentation to new staff about the types and destructive capabilities of each of the nuclear bombs and warheads produced in Los Alamos. He (the guy on the video) lectured on the "principle of deterrance", and why it was important to have weapons that could completely and utterly destroy a country. To paraphrase his words: "Don't be stupid, don't mess with the United States, or your country will go away". Ed shook his head in sadness, gripping my arm as he told us the story of his past at the lab and his disillusionment with his governmment's "defence deterrance" mentality.


Ed's campaign for peace struck a suprising piece of good luck recently, when he bought a box of old books at an estate sale. Amongst the books was an original manuscript from the Manhattan Project, hand signed by almost every major scientist who worked on the project: Feynmann, Oppenheimer, and dozens more. Ed auctioned the book through Sotheby's and netted $USD28,000. The proceeds are helping to fund his newest project, a peace sculpture which commemorates,but does not celebrate or glorify, the incredibly desctructive potential of the nuclear bomb. He showed us a scale model; the sculpture will comprise two 30-ft white granite obelisks, each one set upon a "doomsday stone" which tells the story of Los Alamos in 15 different langauges. Sitting atop each obelisks will be a huge black granite sphere, etched to show the soccer-ball shape of a nuclear warhead. Ed showed us photos from his visit to the Chinese stonecutting factory where his sculpture was carved. Then, as the final stage of our personal tour, he took us out front to where two enormous cargo containers sat on the grass verge. Inside were the obelisks, smooth shiny granite forms lying quietly in wait until a site can be determined for their placement.


As you can see, each face of the Obelisk is engraved with Albert Einstein's name and dates of birth and death. Where will Ed's sculpture be placed? It is hard to imagine the city of Los Alamos wanting this in their face, but with Ed's determination, I have no doubt that it will find a home somewhere.

I fake lose stuff

What's your shtick? I mean, what is your trademark thing to do? Mine is to fake lose stuff. (And of course sometimes, to *actually* lose stuff).

What is fake losing stuff? It's when you discover you have lost something important, like, oh, I don't know, let's say: your wallet; your ipod; your camera; your boarding pass; your keys; your prescription glasses; one of your check-in bags. You know, *important* stuff. You search everywhere, try to remember when you last had whatever it is you don't seem to have anymore. You come up with a dozen plausible scenarios for where it could be, search each of those places, then search them again 2 or 3 times more (just because you maybe didn't search properly the first time?)

If you're me, at this point your thinking is going something like this "Well well. You've done gone and lost something again. Surprise surprise. You are once again, a loser, Well might as well accept it and move on, you'll never see that [ipod/camera/keys/other lost item] again. No point moping about it, loser."

It's some time after this chain of thought that the universe Sha-Zams you by enabling your "lost" item to magically resurface and reunite with you (often, in my case, with significant assistance from a kindly friend/relative/shop owner/bus driver/police officer/cafe barista etc.

So is there any way to spot a fake lose from a real lose? Not really, because almost any "real" lose has the potential to one day instantaneously become a fake lose, should the thought-to-be-lost item one day mysteriously re-appear. My personal trick for tipping the universe towards converting a real lose to a fake lose is the acceptance bit. When faced with a lost item, one must not panic. One must realise and accept that one is a loser, who is barely capable of running one's own life properly, who cannot master the basic principle of keeping one's possessions in one's possession, and who should just accept this fact with grace. Then, and only then, might the Universe reward you with a fake lose.

WOOOoOOOOOOOHHHOOOOOOOOO!!!

On a hot July day in 1986, my family celebrated dad's birthday at Great America, an amusement park near Santa Clara in Northern California. For a couple of rollercoaster-starved NZ kids, Great America was like heaven! Ben, dad and I (mum watching sensibly from the sidelines) were primed up for the scary stuff. The two rollercoasters I remember riding were the Demon, and the infamous Grizzly, an nostalgic-style wooden rollercoaster built like those of yesteryear. I didn't actually like the Grizzly, mainly because it was so shuddery and jittery it gave me a headache. But our trip to Great America was remembered for years and years afterwards, especially when we drank out of our giant plastic Grizzly "souvenir" soda cups.

Yesterday, Ben, Judy and I relived a little of our youth by returning to Great America - almost 21 years since our first visit. This time, Ben and I took on the big coasters, while Judy watched sensibly from the sidelines. Great America has changed a lot since 1986, with the addition of such adrenaline-pumping rides as The Invertigo, The Vortex, The Survivor Ride, and the Top Gun. I spend a good part of the day screaming and laughing hysterically as my body was hurtled at frightening speeds and flung in a variety of stomach-lurching directions. (I'd post some photos but the whereabouts of my camera is currently unknown... don't ask....). Judy was no slouch either, proving her bravery by taking on the Survivor ride (4/5 on the Thrill Scale), and winning a yellow Care Bear after fooling the "guess your age" woman with her youthful looks.

By the end of it, my brain was completely wired for action. As I was flying to New Mexico that evening I had the odd expectation that each gentle ascent of the plane would be followed by a sudden heart-stopping plummet towards the Earth. Had my fellow passengers known what I was thinking, I'm sure they would have thanked the heavens that I have not yet developed telekinetic powers...

Big Trees

Yesterday I went to see some giant redwood trees with Bob and Sharon Lutman. Those trees are BIG!

Deep Vein Thrombosis

In a few hours I'll board a plane and fly approximately 12 hours from AKL to SFO. I've done a lot of 12-hour flights in my lifetime - obviously, living in NZ means you have to fly 12 hours to get to pretty much anywhere else worth going to!!. Apart from the general discomfort and inability to sleep, I've never found this to be too much of a worry - 12 hours of discomfort is a small price to pay for the rewards of travel, after all. And I am not a nervous flyer AT ALL. I actually love turbulence - I think it's like a rollercoaster ride. I'm not worried about being sucked down the aiplane toilets. I never worry about gremlins on the wing. The only slightly weird thing about me as a flyer is that I always think I'm going to get an uncontrollable urge to open the airplane door mid-flight. But I don't worry about that too much either, as a) I've been told it's not possible to do that; b) I haven't done it yet; and c) I have the same kinds of thoughts about throwing stuff off bridges when I walk across them, or jumping up and screaming in the middle of an exam, and I've never done any of those things either (yet).

So, flying long-haul has never too much of a worry - until my recent bout of DVT paranoia, that is. Don't ask why, but a few weeks ago I was convinced that I either had, or was about to have, a DVT in my left leg. It all started when I was walking home one day and felt a slight mucle pain in my calf muscle. It felt like a normal "tight" calf muscle, so I thought nothing of it, until a few days later when I turned on National Radio and they were halfway through a story about DVT in office workers, and the expert being interviewed said "The problem is, it can be hard to notice - it might be as subtle as a pain in the calf".
OMIGOD!! (I thought in my semi-asleep stupor). Convinced I might have DVT, I spent half a day googling it. The more I read, the more paranoid I became. For example, did you know that about half of all patients admitted to hospital with a Pulmonary Embolism had a "silent" (asymptomatic) DVT!! My anxiety lasted about a week and told everyone around me that if i was to suddenly have difficulty breathing, they were to take me to the emergency room ASAP. Meanwhile, the leg pain never returned, and I eventually came to the logical conclusion that I didn't have a DVT. Nevertheless, as a result of my paranoia I have decided for the first time ever I am going to wear those anti-DVT "flight socks". I expect they will be horribly uncomfortable, but (as my frantic internizzle search told me), there is at least one RCT study which proved that they reduce the incidence of DVT.

The peace of mind my flight socks give me will free up my mind to worry about more important things - like how much my travels will be increasing my individual carbon footprint, for example.....