On Soft Drinks, Yom Tov, and Canada

It’s kind of interesting writing on a blog entitled “Diet Dr. Pepper” when I haven’t had the extreme pleasure of imbibing this particular beverage in approximately six weeks. In any case, I’m doing unexpectedly well without the drink, a pleasant surprise, which I think can be attributed to a number of causative factors:
1. Since calling the manufacturer (Cadbury Schweppes) in the summer (it’s not the summer anymore; strange, isn’t it?) and inquiring about their international sales operation, I’ve known that DDP is unavailable in Israel. This experience has taught me that knowledge is power, empowering, whatever.
2. I’ve started ingesting an incredible amount of Diet Coke. No, Diet Coke is not as good as DDP. However, it is proving to be a suitable alternative. Just an interesting piece of information (oh l’fachot davar sheh’ani choshevet sheh’he mi’anyenet—that reminds me I’ve started speaking and writing Hebrew at random): Diet Coke in Israel contains calories. Well, really, it contains less than one calorie per cup, but that’s still more than the number of calories in American Diet Coke.
3. I’ve become a more spiritual person who simply does not have the time nor interest to focus on such mundane, physical matters as soft drinks. I’m just kidding. Actually, being in Israel and being relatively (emphasis on the word “relatively”) independent has forced me to focus on my nutritional needs, since I’m now responsible for buying all of my own food, except for lunch.
Besides for drinking an obscene amount of Diet Coke in the past couple of weeks, I’ve also been pretty busy observing 3-day Yomim Tovim, a time-consuming, unpredictably exhausting, but extraordinarily fun experience. My first 3-day Yom Tov (besides for Rosh Hashana, which everyone observes) was spent in Efrat. Simply put: I love Efrat. Go visit, spend a Shabbos, spend a 3-day Yom Tov. Besides for the fact that the people there are warm and generous and interesting to speak with, they also speak Hebrew. So not only did I have the opportunity to spend time with a family in a real house (not just a bunch of seminary girls in a sparsely-furnished dira), but I actually got to speak Hebrew, a hard-to-come-by experience in my heavily American seminary.

Since I haven’t written in a while, I’m feeling kind of partial to lists, so here’s a much-abbreviated account of my Chol HaMoed Sukkos in list form:
1. My friend (let’s call her Jinji; she may guest-blog someday) and I waited for the bus on Motzai Shabbos to get from Efrat back to Yerushalayim. While waiting for the bus, I finally got to pretend to be Canadian, which I’m not. It’s kind of strange, but I have a bunch of friends from Toronto (that part isn’t so strange), and I find their accents kind of interesting. When I was younger, I used to wonder why Canada is its own country rather than being part of the United States. After kind of taking A.P. U.S. History, I kind of understand why Canada is independent (it has something to do with 1812, right?), but I still think it’s kind of funny/cool that Canadians exist. But being Canadian has practical advantages. For example, when someone meets you and starts making fun of the fact that you’re American (this kind of thing happens quite frequently in Israel), a Canadian can be like, “Actually, I’m not American; I’m Canadian. (I didn’t vote for George W. Bush.)” Which brings me back to the bus stop. Jinji and I are waiting for the bus, and a yeshiva guy is also waiting at the stop. Desperate to introduce himself to us (again, not such an infrequent occurrence in Israel), he does. Jinji turns to him and says, “I’m Jinji; I’m from X. This is DDP; she’s from Canada.” So you see, having a Canadian alter ego is not only fun, but also convenient.
2. The Old City: over Chol HaMoed, I visited the Old City three times. Once for Birkas Cohanim, once to meet friends and to visit the Burnt House Museum, and once to daven Vasikin at the Kotel on Hoshana Raba. Birkas Cohanim on Sukkos is beyond description. Standing at the Kotel with thousands of other Jews caused me to think about what the aliyah l’regel must have been like, how many more people, how much more special.
3. My school took us to the Biblical Zoo. I like zoos; I like Tanach. I liked the Biblical Zoo.
4. My friends and I decided to go to one of those famous Geulah/Meah Shearim Simchas Beis HaSho’evas. We never did find a Simchas Beis HaSho’eva, although we did follow the signs, including the ones that enjoined us to stay on the right side of the street due to the heavy foot traffic during Chol HaMoed. There were even security guards hired for the sole purpose of keeping men and women on the correct sidewalks. “Nashim b’tzad yemin. Anashim b’tzad smol. Nashim b’tzad yemin. Anashim b’tzad smol.” It has a catchy tune.
5. On Tuesday of Chol HaMoed, my roommate, Jinji, and I took a trip to the north of Israel. We visited the grottoes of Rosh HaNikra, the medieval Crusader castle in Acco, and a mosaic-covered shul in Acco. Jinji will be guest-blogging about the trip soon, bli neder, which promises to be an amusing read. Just a small preview: “I ain’t doing no kvarim, Ta.”

Shemini Atzeres, Simchas Torah, and Shabbos were an interesting experience in a heavily Anglo-Saxon, affluent community. Never before had I seen carpet (or marble or sterling silver) in Israel.

In the midst of all of these Yomim Tovim, I also managed to attend two weddings, both of which enabled me to see some very special people who I haven’t seen in a long time.

Oh, by the way, I’m attending school here.