Waiting angels at rush hour

Downtown express platform at 96th & broadway.

I love New York moment of the day

34th St. station. 5:00 pm. Rushing past the dark eyes of young woman in full face black burka looking like a ninja as muscly man plays ethereal versions of Led Zepplin tunes on electric violin.

Mark your calendars

Mark your calendars and spread the news to others (who at least understand Yiddish):
 
פֿרײַטיק דעם 11טן מײַ
12:30, שולכל — אויפֿן צװײטן גאָרן
 

12:30, שולכל — אויפֿן צװײטן גאָרן

עדי מהלאל — קאָלאָמביע-אוניווערסיטעט אַ קוק אויף יאָסל בירשטיינס "צווישן איילבערטן" און זײַן ברייטערן פּאָליטישן קאָנטעקסט

אין דער דערציילונג "צווישן איילבערטן" פֿון יאָסל בירשטיין (2003-1920), דערשינען צו ערשט אין 1954, ווערט דערציילט וועגן אַן אַלטן פּאַלעסטינער אַראַבער און זײַן צופֿעליקער טרעפֿונג מיט אַן ישׂראלדיקן זעלנער. אין אָט דער לעקציע וועט עדי מהלאל באַווײַזן ווי אַזוי בירשטיינס מאָדערניסיטשע דערציילונג רעאַגירט אויף דער פּאָליטישער און קולטורעלער רעאַליטעט אין ישׂראל.

פֿרײַטיק דעם 11טן מײַ 12:30, שולכל — אויפֿן צװײטן גאָרן

עדי מהלאל — קאָלאָמביע-אוניווערסיטעט אַ קוק אויף יאָסל בירשטיינס "צווישן איילבערטן" און זײַן ברייטערן פּאָליטישן קאָנטעקסט

אין דער דערציילונג "צווישן איילבערטן" פֿון יאָסל בירשטיין (2003-1920), דערשינען צו ערשט אין 1954, ווערט דערציילט וועגן אַן אַלטן פּאַלעסטינער אַראַבער און זײַן צופֿעליקער טרעפֿונג מיט אַן ישׂראלדיקן זעלנער. אין אָט דער לעקציע וועט עדי מהלאל באַווײַזן ווי אַזוי בירשטיינס מאָדערניסיטשע דערציילונג רעאַגירט אויף דער פּאָליטישער און קולטורעלער רעאַליטעט אין ישׂראל.

http://www.yivo.org/max_weinreich/index.php?tid=54&aid=920
עדי מהלאל
אַ קוק אויף יאָסל בירשטיינס "צווישן איילבערטן" און זײַן ברייטערן פּאָליטישן קאָנטעקסט
 
אין דער דערציילונג "צווישן איילבערטן" פֿון יאָסל בירשטיין (2003-1920), דערשינען צו ערשט אין 1954, ווערט דערציילט וועגן אַן אַלטן פּאַלעסטינער אַראַבער און זײַן צופֿעליקער טרעפֿונג מיט אַן ישׂראלדיקן זעלנער. אין אָט דער לעקציע וועט עדי מהלאל באַווײַזן ווי אַזוי בירשטיינס מאָדערניסיטשע דערציילונג רעאַגירט אויף דער פּאָליטישער און קולטורעלער רעאַליטעט אין ישׂראל.

Monthly Commuter Tax advantage goes to cars, not people

Are you aware of this? I was bummed to see my monthly commuter benefits (which help cover my PATH pass and metro card with pre-tax pay) but I was outraged when I saw that parking benefits are *increasing*!!

Wtf?!?! Let's all drive more so we can use more gas!

I'm calling my congressman to voice my disappointment. What else can I do? 

Begin forwarded message:

Outrageous!

---

From: orderconfirmation@wageworks.com 
Sent: Wednesday, November 30, 2011 1:13 AM
To: Mahalel, Laura
Subject: Monthly Commuter Benefits Reminder

 

MONTHLY COMMUTER BENEFITS REMINDER

This email is being sent to you to confirm your order for the JANUARY 2012 benefit month. If you do not wish to make any changes to your order, you do not need to take any action.

Important Note: The temporary $230 monthly pre-tax transit limit set by Congress in 2009 will expire at the end of 2011. Beginning with the January 2012 benefit month, the pre-tax transit limit will decrease to $125 a month and any election amount over $125 will be deducted from your pay on an after-tax basis. Beginning with the January 2012 benefit month, the monthly pre-tax limit for parking will increase from $230 to $240.

No peas for Melech, please

We enjoyed a lovely day at Coney Island yesterday. The kids played joyfully on the beach like little cave children, nearly naked in the unusually warm November sun.
The NY aquarium was thrilling for young and old. Also cooler, cleaner, and less smelly than I remembered it from my own childhood.
At snack time while I inquired about coffee at the "seaside cafe" (they were out of all varieties of coffee but had an endless supply of enormous drink containers topped with Plastic shark heads), Melech grabbed tube of organic baby food with a picture of Peter Rabbit on it. My boy is two now and way beyond baby food but I thought what the heck, it's better than the junk food options, and willingly shelled out $3 for the privilege of watching him suck down a not entirely horrible mixture of peas, apples, and some other fruit or vegetable. Adi even helped squirt the last bit into his mouth.
We carried a sleepy Melech up a million stairs and took the train to Brighton Beach ISO Russian food. Mele-bell was in deep slumber when we began digging into a tasty plate of cabbage dumplings and sipping sweet, yeasty kvas and suddenly heard him coughing in his stroller. Then it began. Or, rather, they began. Waves of pea green puke.

Fwd: me on video: A New Accord for Israel and the Palestinians?

check out Adi in the Q&A at the UN (01:09:10):

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/17309536

News from Hurricane Irene

By 7:50 this morning, our kitchen floor was flooded. With drips from CLEAN DISHES I YANKEd fROM THE dishwasher and above all with drops of strawberry milk melech poured all over himself. And the floor. milk we only bought because yesterday we were walking round the block as much as we could, dreading today when we'll likely have to stay in all day. 

(random caps are Melech's artistic contribution to this blog entry).

Seriously, we're fine. It's just been raining since last night. Raining hard, but the wind doesn't even seem especially windy.

It's  now 9:16 and I'm letting the kids watch a 2nd movie (Peter Pan 2). Luckily we have kind neighbors with kids and we have a strategy to preserve our sanity, namely we will take turns watching all the kids. 

So right now boredom and sanity are my biggest concerns.

But I am also worried that lower Manhattan and thus the PATH train that takes me to work in NJ will flood. Because I do want to go to work tomorrow (revisit biggest concerns above). 

If the kids are happy, I am happy. And I may even get to put a dent in countless home improvement and organizing tasks. Hurrah for the hurricane!

Adamah vshamayim Zimriyah 2011

It was a sauna in the Nyack High School gym last night but I couldn't have been happier watching Ahuva avd her fellow campers belt out songs w such RUACH.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVzBcnuM3rM&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Hotter than Sinai

This heat reminds me of Sinai. 'cept there we just lay around half-naked and stoned, playing shesh-besh while the Bedouin waiters brought us cheap yummy food and "ice-cold Coke-a-Coalies!"
Are we humans going the way of the dinosaurs?

Nyc aids walk 2011

Melech and I did the walk togeter in the rain. Ahuva, tired from an alergic reaction to penicillin and the medication to treat it, opted to stay home, saying she needed time with just Aba. He didn't seem to mind. Both were releived when i loaded a very kvetchy Mellie into the ergo carrier and stepped outside.
110th st. Was already blocked off but the walkers had not yet arrived.

Correction!

Tour is TODAY!

This friday: PS 165 March 31st School Tour

It's cool too go to your neighborhood school!

PS 165 School Tour
234 W 109th Street (between Amsterdam and Broadway)
March 31, 2011 from 9:15 AM to 10:15 AM

PS 165 is hosting school tour for parents of PK through 5th grade.
Parents will meet at 9:15 AM in the waiting area outside the Parent
Coordinator office on the 1st floor.

Children are welcome.

Parents are encouraged to RSVP by calling Mr. Duran at (212) 678-2873
Ext. 1142.

Just say no to the mishugas: go to your local public school

A letter to the fellow parents at our daughter's pre-school about our choice.

>>
>> I realize that most of you are considering other options. But if you want to
>> skip the pressures of applying, waiting, and stressing about  kindergarten, not
>> to mention the high price of tuition, be aware that you have a choice.
>>
>> We have decided to "Just say 'no'" to the craziness that applying to
>> Kindergarten in NYC can represent for families. We are sending Ahuva to our
>> zoned public school which happens to be PS 165. She will attend the dual
>> language (Spanish) K class. The advantages for us are clear:
>> -No travel. The school is one block from our home. We look forward to having
>> classmates who live close by.
>> -Spanish. Learning another language is more than most kids  elementary school.
>> Additionally, the dual-language programs supposedly have a    curriculum that match
>> the G&T programs, except that you gain another language.
>> -Cost. None. We can spend the extra money on ballet or karate or on  donations to
>> help improve the school's library. Or we can just feel a bit less    strapped for a
>> change.
>> -Community. I attended the first "meet and greet", I and was  impressed by the
>> small core of parents I met who care deeply about their school and  who are open
>> and welcoming to anyone who wants to get involved.
>> -Great teachers. We met the dual language teachers for K and 1st    grade who were
>> both wonderful.
>> -A very decent public school. A tour of the school was eye-opening.    There were
>> no ipads, but the children were happy and engaged in their lessons.  The younger
>> grades were safely separated from the older grades. The classrooms    were in good
>> shape. There was a positive feeling in the air.
>>
>> The disadvantages?
>> -Low test scores. To be fair, the school has those test scores in    part because
>> it does take whoever comes. However, there is a new principal at  the  school who
>> is bright, articulate, energetic, and seems to have what it takes to make a
>> difference at the school.
>>
>> -Diversity. Right now, it's not very diverse. I expect that will    change. We will
>> add to the diversity. If you join us, so will you.
>>
>> -Bad reputation. This seems to be an outdated hold over from the    1980s when the
>> neighborhood was quite different than it is today.
>> I encourage you to join me at the next meet & greet and to sign up    for a tour.
>> And tell your friends!>>

Snowy jersey city in march

Yow!

wtf

Jc today.

Night monkey, day monkey

You'd think that after sleeping fewer than 3 hrs on tues, melech, like me, would want to sleep well wed night. Wrong! His vengful wrath knows no rest. We walked. Screamed. Chatted on skype with saba and savta at 1:30 am. Savta sang lullibies which soothed me & made M. Laugh. Aba and i took turns waking and snoozing. It is a blur. M. was impossible.

A bright spot thou: impromptu nocturnal FB chat with a friend in Australia cheers me up.

Irony: m. Fell asleep in strollie to school b4 leaving home, that little monkey!

Extra love

A perfect coffee heart procured with an emergency fiver i had hidden in my purse.

Weanin' Ain't Ez

When it was time to wean Bigsis, i turned to la Leche League's website for advice. Under weaning it said "Thinking about weaning? Have you consiered the benefits of nursing? Unless your child is in college, there's no reason to stop."
I am well aware of the benefits of nursing. I love nursing. In fact, I happily would nurse BabyBoy until college. But the time had come.
A closer read on the LLL site suggests that if you really must stop you could do so gradually by adopting a "don't offer, don't refuse" policy. Meaning don't present your breast but if he tears at your shirt, signs "milk", you can give it up

Looking for bright spots

Tues. First day back after a long weekend proved bad day to wear shoes instead of boots as freezing rain fell all day. But coming out of the train the sight of ice-covered branches was beautiful.

A special shwarma experience + 1

Today I abandoned the Jewish writers tour to sit and write this in a café instead. The tour was frustrating. Not only was it in Polish without a formal translator, but since most of Jewish Warsaw was litterally obliterated in the war, not many of the actual places remained to visit.

I sat in what used to be the ghetto, in a street what now hosts the important annual Singer festival. This block of buildings are all that remain of the ghetto buildings. They are without facades, brick exposed, awaiting a scheduled rennovation. Photos of old Warsaw jews hang from them, a permanent exposition.

Oh yum! They serve ice coffee in one of the ways I like it best: blended and milky. A creamy shake for adults. Not a frappuchino – not so much ice. And here is my cake. A dream of soft (but not mushy) merengue, light layers of cream, and the freshest strawberries imaginable.

On the subway now. Thre is only one line. It’s enough. Enough to get us where we need to go: from our Stalinist-style student hotel in the city’s perifery to the Shalom Foundation downtown where hour classes are held. And enough subway to get lost.

Today we took the metro from school one stop in the wrong direction on our way to meet the tour. Hungry for lunch, we decided to eat before correcting our mistake. Adi keenly spotted a kebab place by the metro exit. Aka, a shwarma joint. We left the perfect sunlight and entered a dim pocket of Middle Eastern delights. We ordered by pointing and inventing. “Felafel?” I asked hopefully. Negative. Adi offered to leave but I saw promising salads and was undaunted. A Polish girl who knew three words of English was brough in from the kitchen to help “translate” my order, an improvised ventarian sandwich. I pointed at the light and dark meat shwarma spits and said “No”. I pointed at the salads and said “Salatka – TAK”, an nodded. Ditto the fried eggplant. And attempting to read the word and guess I said “Chleb” – bread. I eyed some Turkish yogurt drink and pointed to that too for my protein. It was a good call – a  light, yummy buttermilky drink.

The young guy benind the counter doesn’t speak Arabic (I asked). Turkish? “KURD.” I understand that he is not fond of Arabs. Probably not a big fan of Turks either. “Where are you from?” he communicates the question via the Polish girl.

“New York,” Adi answers for both of us, an unusual answer for him. I don’t elaborate.

“Really?” the Kurd seems to ask. I don’t understand his words but his suspicion is clear as is his retort (also in Polish) to Adi,  “You don’t look Polish.”

Adi sits to eat his Shwarma. I can’t wait to tell my bro about what I just saw. After wrapping a full pile of meat, salads and sauces, our Kurdish friend pressed the shwarma sandwich on a grill like a panini.

A shwarma panini.

An exciting shwarma variant.

Meanwhile, Hussein is called in from the ktichen. He doesn’t speak Arabic either, despite the name. Apparantly he’s been brought in because he has some crucial English vocabulary that the Polish girl lacks. He also has excessive gaps between his front teeth.

“Chili sauce?” he asks, holding a red squirty bottle usually associated with ketsup. I hesitate only for a second, fearing the wrath it may cause my traveling stomach later but quickly nod and say “TAK.”

“Garlic sause?” he asks, this time rasining a yellow squirty bottle usually associated with mustard. I nod again, “Tak!”

“Thank you” in Kurdish is “spaat”. I remember this after the 3rd try by telling myself that it resembles the start of the Russian “Spaacibo”.

I join Adi. I look around. A Polish version of “hot or not” is on TV. A small lunch crowd is forming. I take a bite. Boy am I glad we got off at the wrong stop. My sandwich is utterly kick ass. The chili sauce is not too hot, but mixes perfectly with the garlic sauce to give delightful seasioning to the purple cabbage sald. The breaded, fried eggpland (which the Kurd heated in the microwave after panini-ing the rest of my sandwich) is just the right consistency of done but not mushy. It is all served in a simple round bread that is just thick enough to suck up the excess sauces and grease and makes it all easy to hold.

A bit more on the garlic sauce, since I was discussing it with bro last week in New York: Unfortunatly, I was not able to really judge the “delivery method”. Was it mixed with potato, as was a version bro recently experienced? I don’t think so. Oil? Seems so, but if so the garlic was truly pulverized, or perhaps the it was more of an infused oil. Either way, what it did better than any garlic sauce I’ve known was to successfully distribute the garlic flavor efficiently and evenly througout the sandwich. So while garlic was ever-present, it was not overly present in any one bite.

And how did the panini shwarma thing work? I have to follow up with Adi. I was too busy enjoying my delighful sandiwich and discussing the experience to even ask. Adi said we could tell him on our way out where he’s really from. But I’m glad we didn’t because we may have to go back for more!

 

And tonight at the little bakery on the way home I found a rare treat: spit cake! I read about it in a New Yorker article but had never seen it, let alone tasted it. I walked in to the shop not knowing what I would choose, thinking I’d leave it up to Ahuva. But there it was. A stack of thick semi-circles, with layers as in tree rings. Spit cake is made by slowly pouring layer after layer of sponge cake batter over a moving spit. A shwarma cake. I had to try it.

We enjoyed it after Ahuva went to bed. It was lovely. Slightly smokey. Not too sweet. With an even better after taste.