Rain on Strike day and other thoughts

We awoke Sunday morning to the smell of freshly fallen rain. Somehow even the small amount of rain that we got felt like a miracle. The only problem was that all of our extra stuff for which we haven't found a space (like file cabinets, a rug, a loveseat, etc.) are now making their home (temporary!) on one of our two porches. So everything got a tad bit wet, but in this country where water is an extreme shortage, we must always hope for rain. It was such a little bit and the sun came out so strong that everything was dry in no time.

It turns out that the municipal workers, most importantly to our story the assistant preschool teachers, did strike on Sunday. Luckily, one of our fellow parents agreed to step in to assist so that the school could open. Our turn will certainly come, but this time the strike only lasted one day.

After dropping Sidney off at gan, we headed to our first day of school--our ulpan or Hebrew language immersion class. We had been assured that they would offer our level; however, we have found that not to be true--the level is too low right now. So, tomorrow we will be true Israelis and march ourselves over to the office to find out how they intend to meet our needs. We have been told that Israelis don't take no for an answer, so we'll need to practice that.
Today was another important milestone in Sidney's life. She got her first two wheel bicycle and practiced riding it with the training wheels. She was so excited. We sneaked the bike into our shipment so that she would have a surprise when our stuff arrived. Granted it has taken us this long to put it together, but still...
In other news, I finally got myself to my first yoga class last night. Jen was nice to be my chaperone, and I went to the studio where she is a regular. It took me a long time to get myself to a class both because we have been so busy and because of fear, but I'm so glad that I went. It was a great class. The teacher was certainly knowledgeable and had a wonderful way of expressing himself. The truth is that in the beginning I pretty much had no idea what he was saying until he said "ujjayi" and then I knew I was home. I found that I understood more than I thought that I would, and he was incredibly kind about translating; I even learned a few words along the way. The sound of the language that he was using was also incredible. First of all, the way the Hebrew language is built makes it so that words end up rhyming, not in a greeting card sort of way, but it really sounds poetic. Secondly, the word for breathing is neshima which comes from the same root as the word neshama (soul)...the connection in the language is very yogic.
Finally, I have been wondering something. Does the American press cover things going on here in Israel? I remember in the months before Operation Cast Lead in Gaza reading in Israeli newspapers online everyday about the numerous rockets being fired into Israel from Gaza. Each day, for months, as I read this, I remember thinking that the American press was not covering this and that when Israel finally decided to respond with force it would seem to most people that their attack had been unprovoked. Well months later, Israel did respond and that was the reaction of the world. So now I wonder. Do people know about the katyushas from Lebanon that fell in northern Israel on Shabbat (thankfully not injuring anyone--reportedly linked to independent Sunni radicals, not Hizbullah)? Perhaps less internationally significant, do Americans know that Israelis yesterday and today mourned for Asaf Ramon, the son of Ilan Ramon the astronaut (who died on the Columbia spacecraft in 2003)? He was killed yesterday in a air force training exercise. Of course, his death was the headline of every paper, but also regular people are acting as if he was their own. A friend told us that his office had planned a meeting for today to include a celebration of the new year. They had the meeting but felt it appropriate to cancel the celebration...If only every soldier in the world were so treasured.