Work in No Progress

So I’ve written about how I live here, but I don’t think you really know WHAT I do here? How do I spend my days? What WILL I do?

They are very good questions and I better answer them shortly cause to be honest with you, I’ve run out of money. Ok, I won’t starve to death or have to run around without clothes in the street. But I might have to walk a bit more instead of taking a bus and not buy a coffee-to-go or a sandwich in the café (and they have such delicious sandwiches in this country!).

So I need a job, my wish was to do more creative things when I got here, you know, like sew or knit or crochet stuff and sell. And in the first few weeks I did crochet hats and fingerless gloves and actually sold a few.

The hats look like this for instance:

And the gloves:

Just simple stuff.

The gloves are pretty popular in the music school where the loved one studies, they are good for musicians, since they can keep their hands warm and still play piano or a guitar.

What I make has to be simple and quick or else I won’t be able to sell them, more time spent on something means means a higher price.

But even before the winter here ended I stopped making the hats and gloves.

I don’t know why, a friend of mine who has a clothes store in the most popular street in Tel Aviv even said that I should give him some samples of the gloves and he would try to sell them. But I didn’t give him any, partly because I didn’t have enough hours in a day to make the samples but probably mostly because I didn’t really believe it would be possible to sell them.

That’s my biggest problem. I don’t believe they will sell or that things I make look nice or that people will want to have them.

So when winter ended I tried to figure out what to do next and then one of my favourite friends back in Sweden gave me an idea:

Recently in Sweden a popular thing to sell is handmade crocheted jewellery which has been dipped in lacquer so it is stiff and shiny like plastic.

I tried to find pictures of this on the internet which was impossible so I just started to invent stuff and it didn’t turn out so well.

First of all it takes for ever to make them since the needle and thread are so thin which also make my hands and neck hurt. But most importantly they are ugly! Who’d want to wear them as earrings or pendants? Aren’t they ugly?

(These are not lacquered yet)

So what then? What can I do, which is creatively stimulating for me and quick and easy and will sell.

Another idea I had was to make little purses or bags like this:

It is not finished yet, only in a developing stage, I stuck a piece of paper inside, but the inside should be made of fabric with a little zipper. But to make these I need a sewing machine.
And oh dear, did I mention that I don’t have any money left?

So, Catch 307 - I can’t make stuff to sell so I will earn money which will mean that I can buy a sewing machine to make the stuff I want to sell so that I will earn money…

And yes, I could borrow some money I suppose, but I am really scared that I will get a machine and then not proceed to make things because I give up for lack of confidence and motivation.

“I don’t know if these will sell either and I don’t know if they are nice etc etc”.

I have other ideas as well. Baby clothes are easy and quick to sew and I think there might be a market for more “trendy” baby clothes here, since it is such a backward country.

But then again …sewing machine…

And will I really do it? Will the things I make be nice? Will they sell?

Not a Trivial Thing

I do not want to write about politics or wars.
These are not Trivial Matters.

But the situation is this:

A lot of people died today and not very far from where I am.

I don’t know what to say, it is too sad to reflect upon, so it is easier to bury ones head in the sand and not read newspapers or watch news on the television.

But a lot of people were injured today.

A lot of people huddled inside the shelters all day and all night, fearing for their lives.

I want to recommend another blog for you, it is written by two friends, one a Palestinian who lives in Gaza and the other an Israeli who lives 10 kilometres away, in Sderot, just over the border in Israel.

Read it:

Life must go on in Gaza and Sderot

Washing Clothes and Drying Dove

It is not fun to wash clothes, but it is something one has to do occassionally. In our case this occasionally, unfortuantly takes place once a week.

So last week I grumpily got out of bed knowing that it was washing day. The weather was dismal to match my mood. It was pouring down with an icey wind that came from everywhere.

So I collected the clothes in my big blue IKEA bag and forced myself up the hill, against the wind, the 100 metres to the laundry. It was hard work.

I started the machines and started to leave the building (which also has dorms and an office) but at the entrance of the building I came to a full stop.

There, huddled just inside the entrance on the floor was the most dismal pigeon I have ever seen. Its wings hung on its side dragging on the floor as if it had no strength to pick them up and I could understand her.

The pigeon was soaking wet and shivering, I have never seen a bird so wet before, it was as if someone had poured a whole bucket of water on top of her and there she sat, not knowing what had hit her and not knowing what to do. There was a puddle building up underneath her from the water dripping off her wings and tail.

It seriously broke my heart and I understood that she was trying to get indoors where it was a bit warmer but the wind was howling through the doorway and nowhere in the building was a safe haven for her. People were going in and out of this entrance - some girls screamed when they saw her pathetic being and others just saying Ooops! when they nearly trod on her. So the pigeon was very scared and dared not go anywhere I think, I also think she was so cold that she didn’t have any strength either.

So I went home with an aching heart – down the hill, against the wind.

And if you seriously think that I am a cold hearted terrible person and that I left her there to die, you are not worthy of being my friends.

I did go home alone.

But.

When I got home, I took a cardboard box (from our fuse popping oven) stuffed an old bathroom mat in the bottom and put a little container with bread crumbs and oatmeal in it.

The I took a soft pillowcase (the softest material I could find) and went back to the entrance, up the hill, against the wind, wondering if she would still be there.

She was.

And I wouldn’t say she was glad that I picked her up, but I don’t think she was very unhappy, either, to suddenly be embraced by warm soft cotton.

I put her in the box and put the box next to the radiator which was hot.

She didn’t do much, just sat there.

And in the morning she was dead.

NOOO! Just kidding!

In the morning she woke me up, by flapping her wings.

She was completely dry, so I took her outside, where she flew from my hands and sat on a lamppost to tidy her feathers.

Unfortunatly I was in such a distress when I found the pigeon that I didn’t have an sense to take a picture of her misery.

But fortunately for you, I am an outstanding artist so here is a picture of what she looked like before…

and here's a picture of what she looked like after her ordeal:

Smelly fridge and fuse popping toaster oven

After about a month the smell of the fridge and freezer became worse and one day the freezer was nice and warm like a summer day and not nasty and freezing like a winter night. So we got the janitor over who looked at it and hmm:ed and haa:ed and then phoned some freezer mechanics.

These two nice mechanics arrived the next morning and one of them promptly sat down in our armchair and started to gaze at the view (I don’t blame him) whilst the other mechanic started to empty the freezer and taking it apart. The mechanic who was preoccupied in the armchair asked the loved one to play him some music on the piano which the loved one did after giving them some coffee.
After about just 15 minutes the working mechanic said something like “Aha!” (but in Arabic) and out came his hand from the interior of the freezer. Clasped in his hand was a black melted lump of stuff with metal bits sticking out of it in various places. This lump was reeking of the same chloridic smell we had had in our house since we moved in.

“What is that?!” I asked.
“The engine!” the working mechanic said with a big smile.

The non-working mechanic took the piece in his hand and whistled but then continued to gaze at our beautiful view (still don’t blame him).

Five minutes later the working mechanic had got another engine and fixed the freezer.

Had this been in Sweden the mechanics would have come a week after booking them, looked at the freezer without looking at the view or talking to you and then ordering a new engine which would have taken another week to arrive…

That same day we decided to try our luck at fixing the fuse popping toaster oven.

This meant that we drove for an hour through terrible traffic, argued with the sales people at the shop and then drove for another hour through terrible traffic before finally parking smack bang in the middle of a street, in front of the traffic lights. (Strictly forbidden! But what to do? The parking situation is insane in Israel)

We then took the toaster oven into 3 holes in the walls (which were next to each other) before finally finding the right hole in the wall. (3 different shops, but all had the exact same name)

All of the shops were about the size of a shoe box and all were drowning in kitchen appliances and spare parts to these. Inside and outside the shops these objects just lay in a big mess.
There wasn’t the slightest bit of order anywhere and the men in the shops smoked and look disinterested. So I didn’t have much hope.

But since I was on parking ticket duty I stood outside in the rain looking miserably at our car.

After about half an hour the loved one emerged from having a lovely chat with the owner of the fixing store. He knew the mans entire life story and they even exchanged advice on women, music and coffee brands before the loved one had to run out after I frantically called him to tell him we were about to get a ticket.

(One nice thing about parking ticket people. IF you are in the vicinity of your car, they are not allowed to give you a ticket. They will ask you to move the car, which you will, of course do. But they will not hand you a ticket whilst you are moving the car. As they would in Sweden)

Anyway, in the car, I asked:

“So? What is the toaster oven's verdict?”
“Erhm…” the loved one said looking gslightly embarrassed. “Well we are going to plug it in, using an adapter which will mean that the third “spike” of the plug will not be connected…”
“You mean that we will plug it to the socket without it being earthed (jordad)?”
“Yes! Exactly!”
“Ok!” I replied slowly “You know there is a reason why kitchen appliances like ovens are earthed, right? It is for safety. So the house doesn’t burn down!”

The loved one looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Yes, I know! And I know it sounds silly but this is what we have to do”
“Ok, but WHY are we plugging it to the wall without it being earthed?” I asked completely lost.
“Well, the fixer man said that he thought that the wiring inside was damp… And that when we plugged it in and it being earthed, it fuses it self… So if we plug it in without the earth then the fuse won’t pop and then after two hours the toaster oven will be dried out and we can re-plug it, with the earth. And everything will be fine.”
“Seriously?!” I asked “It sounds utterly insane!” I said.

The loved one agreed with me.

But when we got home we plugged it in anyway – without the earth.
Let it stay on for 2 hours.
And it worked.

Now our toaster oven works perfectly and it is earthed.

Weird.