Time flies

It's crazy to think my time in Israel is almost up. I've been here for four months, and have just one more month at the newspaper. The days vary so much, it's easy to lose track of what I've been doing and forget to appreciate how incredible it's been out here in general.

So much has been going on - a few weeks ago it was 'laila lavan' (or 'white nights'), when the country stays up all night, with shops, museums and cultural hot spots staying open till all hours. I arrived in Tel Aviv after my night shift in Jerusalem, at about 11pm, so I missed a lot of the festivities, but I still managed to make it down to the opera at midnight, as my friend Mandy who works in the costume department managed to bag us some free tickets. I've only ever seen one opera, Norma by Bellini, and I was totally transfixed for over three hours. The Israeli opera house didn't disappoint, but it was an hour-long showcase of its performers from across its shows. It felt a little bit like a school recital, where each artist is wheeled out in turn, in front of the piano. But you can't argue with free tickets. At least I didn't anyway.

Other highlights include the annual siren practice, which took place at 11am a few weeks ago. It's a routine exercise which requires all citizens to drop what they're doing and make their way to the nearest bomb shelter. The newspaper's bomb shelter was a bit of a walk away, which concerned me ever-so-slightly, and not everyone joined in. Across Israel, other people abstained too, especially in busy shopping areas such as Sheinkin Street in the heart of Tel Aviv, where the haggling and bustle didn't stop. Check out this hugely interesting video of the newspaper staff walking to our bomb shelter, shot by my colleague Ben. Ten points for recognising the prodigious talent who's presenting the vid...

In other news, most of the Bezalels came and went at the beginning of the month, apart from my oldest brother Dan, my sister-in-law Debbie and the Bezalel bambinos. I toured around Jerusalem with my other brother Jon and his newish blushing bride Shelley, which was really lovely. I also toured around the country's shopping centres with my parents. While my dad's temple will always be holy city's wailing wall, my mother's is usually located in pricier, more air-conditioned territory, with spacious car parks to boot. The wailing wall, despite its impressive history, can't boast 3 for 2 offers, so who can blame her?

I've been on several seminars recently, too. One about aliyah - that is immigrating to Israel for good and what benefits are on the table from the government. I've decided to return to England in a few months, but aliyah has always been a possibility in my mind, so the seminar was very informative. One of the speakers mentioned a friend who moved to Israel and worked in the Israeli army's spokesperson unit. This appeals to me hugely. If I moved to Israel, I would certainly volunteer for the army, since my age means I'm now exempt from conscription. It would be a battle because of my age but the army is such a fundamental part of Israeli life, it's hard to imagine truly fitting in without that experience. Plus, because I have an Israeli passport (my dad grew up in Israel) missing the army is a sore point in my mind. While I was eligible for the army, I carried exemption papers because I was studying, but every time I visit an army memorial or cemetery, I can't help but feel guilt for abstaining. The more time I spend in Israel, the more pervasive my regrets become, until I remind myself that if I ever do move to Israel permanently, I will make volunteering in the army my number one priority. Though every year that passes I am seen as less useful to the army and the bigger the ensuing (proverbial) battle with them will become...

The other seminar was about the Golan Heights, the north-eastern territory of Israel which the country captured from Syria in the 1967 Six Day War. On the latter, we did two hikes, one of which lasted five hours and involved descending ladders (slightly terrifying)... We also spoke to man living on Kibbutz Misgav Am, on the border facing Hezbollah, totally unfazed by the view he's faced with upon waking up each day. The group also visited a Druze village and later on sampled the community's food (delish).

The Golan trip was especially significant for me because for two nights we stayed in a youth hostel in Shlomi - a development town very close to the Lebanese border - which is where I spent four months of my gap year when I was 18. In Shlomi I taught (or at least tried to teach) English to very cheeky Israeli children whose English vocab hadn't stretched much further than 'fack yo mum' and 'sonofabeach'... those were some interesting months and I was very pleased to have been reminded of them all these years later..! Kids say the darndest things, don't they?