Finding a Home

When you think of the word home, we conjure up different things, maybe for you an actual house or appartment,
or a paticular room, mum´s cooking or your own comfortable bed or chair. For me personally I have always liked the
expression that ´ home is where the heart is ´. For me where my immediate family are would be my home, but as I
have chosen the path of travel for now, I still need somewhere to put my head.

I have come to the conclusion after now having lived in three cities, that when you relocate without assistance, one has to give it a week in order to find suitable accomodation and put your whole heart into it. There is an element of
intuition involved, in listening well to what the landlord or future roomate says to you on the phone. Be careful in how much information you give, be guarded but sound responsible, serious and respectable. Stick within your chosen budget, but be willing to compromise or go up a little. Do not be afraid to negotiate, whilst the appartment/house is
still available, there is a chance that you could live there still.

Take into consideration not only the beauty, but more importantly the location, access to public transport, travel time, if there are stores in the vicinity. Not withstanding look at your roomate or landlord with a critical eye. Is the house tidy, bathroom clean, the garbage collecting in a corner.... Probably most important is the windows and door.
If you are unsure, make sure that it is a contract that allows you to leave before the final date, put in a trial period or
reasonable notice clause. Read the contract thoroughly so that you do not get any surprises later.

Bear in mind, more often than not, that the deposit will likely not be returned to you for you may fall short in one of the requirements and you must not depend on this sum for future rentals. If there is something missing in the room, be it light, mirror, bedside table, don´t be afraid to request. Remember that this is going to be your home too and you wish to feel comfortable there. Don´t be in too much of a hurry to give up any communal space, for example that your roomates will take over the kitchen and you will be loathe to go inside when they are there.

Shopping for groceries, shoe repairs, dry cleaning and a washing machine either at home or nearby are extremely
important, as you do not want to have to lug your parcels from a distant spot. Go looking presentable, be courteous
and non aggressive. Ask if you may hang pictures, use facilities or if you can install a telephone. Check the TV, radio
or DVD works. In other words, be more thorough than you would be in your own home, for remember this is going
to be your new residence and you are not in charge!

Different Strokes

How nice it would be if we were all the same, but how boring that could prove to be. Have you stood up and said 'me? I have no prejudice' and truly meant it, but when you have seen someone smoking within your vicinity, turned up your nose in disgust? We all have, whether it be cigarettes, spitting on the street, someone sneezing noisily and many other things besides.

Some of us are happy to conform with life's etiquette's of good behavior and manners, others are willing to follow the regular fashion that is the Norma in that country or area, but others of us choose to be more individualistic and then have to be prepared to suffer the consequences of our actions. Even if we are non conformist, we do not always agree with the opinion of others. For example, myself, who has a 'style' of my own, probably a little more colorful than others, even though today some black attire has crept into my wardrobe, did not agree with someone's opinion recently. The point under discussion was dressing appropriately. One student of mine said that at a 'mock' interview at the university recently, they were all told to come in suitable interviewee clothes. One young woman, came with a leather jacket, adorned with steel spikes and bright pink hair. My pupil was quite aghast at her appearance and thought is was unsuitable, I personally replied that I thought that this was the best clothes that the young woman had. Another stated that he felt that if you bought front seats to the Opera, this would entitle you to turning up in shorts and sneakers. Another classmate totally disagreed, feeling that this show would be disrespectful both to the actors and audience both.

Whether we like it or not, there are rules and if we are unable to abide by them, then we should not put ourselves in a position of having to do so. Nevertheless, it should be made plain, irrelevant of personal bias and the person in question given the opportunity to dress in a more appropriate fashion, based on their experience and suitability for the job in hand. If they are then unable to do so, then the connection may be severed. Nevertheless, in this day and age, discrimination in the work place is still strife and should be a factor taken under consideration before you leave home.

Furthermore, bear in mind that in places such as Asia, voice and tone can also cause difficulties for somewhere such as China, saving face is of prime importance and an aggressive tone or reprimand can be misunderstood and a relationship broken. These are things that we learn only through trial and error and cannot be explained or taught, only experienced. Once I had some students who had gone to Japan on business. There was a fault in the product being produced there and upon their arrival and subsequent meeting with the CEO, proceeded to put him directly in the know. A further few days was spent being wined and dined, whilst the product was being altered. At the end of their stay, they were informed in no uncertain terms, that there would be no further business between the two companies. The visitors were shocked and could not understand what had happened, after all, they had been treated most cordially during their stay. What they failed to realise though, was that the losing face at the initial meeting put an end to any further dealings, but as not to fall low in the eyes of the foreigner, all had been carried out to the highest standard as not to invoke the same circumstance for the envoy.

Who said relocation was easy? No one to my knowledge, but it is interesting, challenging, fun and an adventure. Though as to making money, this will in the main be possible and fruitful if you will be on an expat salary, but is a means for travelling abroad.

Being In the Know!

There are some basic pieces of information that one needs to know before one embarks on the
relocation itself. Somehow the ´handbook´ or lack of never seems to be available. Websites, tips, chat rooms etc.. all have some of the bits and bobs that you need, but never the whole picture. On top of that, there is always the under the table, most important facts, that never seem to come to light, until you report of some mishap or other and everyone seems to nod there heads in agreement, knowing exactly what you mean!

For example: If you are going to a developed country, it is not necessary to pack ´everything but the kitchen sink´ for the price that you will pay for overweight, far outweighs the inconvenience and adventure of going to buy the appropriate items in your new abode. Airlines today are far more strict with their overload, plastic bags with those items that would not fit in your case, food and general extra packages that you choose to pack yourself up with.

One has to plan to have accommodation for at least a week, whilst you look for an appropriate room or apartment, that will fit both your needs and budget. Be prepared to go out of the city limits in your quest. Each country has its own set of rules and regulations and if you are determined to stick within your means, you may find this more time consuming as well as stressful on your nerves and feet, than previously thought. Of course I am not talking to those who will be relocating under the umbrella of a company, together with schooling and apartment budget laid on, but to those of us, who seek opportunity elsewhere, whether for adventure, escape, language, love or just to travel, even all of the aforementioned.

How much you choose to pay or where you will rest your head for the first nights is personal, but as a further tip, may I suggest that you make sure there is a local Internet cafe or center nearby (as more often than not the Internet in the hotel is either expensive or unobtainable), you are near to metro/subway/underground and buses and know the prices of local transport tickets in advance to get the best options.

For one such as me, who claims to be 'old fashioned' in the ways of computer surfing, I have surpassed and shocked my former abilities of myself, by becoming out of necessity, quite computerised; this of course has been more out of necessity than will. There is also all kinds of other information that you will only learn and glean upon arrival, but do not be afraid to ask strangers for help as more often or not, locals will know better and be more accommodating in answering your questions than fellow ex pats.

Points to look out for and request information on are telephone cards, if you have a bank account, the costs for calls are much cheaper. In some countries such as China, they will take the fee off your prepaid card, but you will need the assistance of a Chinese person to help you achieve that. This will make incoming calls cheaper and not charged at the full rate. As for Internet (of course use the facilities at work) there are many kinds of service, but a prepaid key
makes you independent and usually comes with its own Sim and prepaid hours. This can be then topped up easily either monthly, or as needed. The cheapest of course would be to get Internet that is attached to a land line, but this will depend on your future landlord.

Surprisingly enough, in Italy it is very difficult to get passed the Government red tape, even if you have a European passport, that includes opening Bank Accounts, receiving monies from abroad through Money gram and other inconveniences. Let me add that there is always a way
round, don't give up, just look for a foreign outpost that services nationals from other countries to be more helpful. Credit cards will be an almost impossibility, you are better off to buy a prepaid one from your own country, or incur the costs of using your own from back home. Don't
grimace and say that you are used to paying only with plastic, for when you are abroad and as of yet unsure as to your regular or permanent salary, cash is better.

Health insurance, unless you have the appropriate European card, is something you should have
and there are plenty of websites that offer cheap coverage. In some countries, such as China, even though there are plenty of Clinics or Hospitals for foreigners, they are expensive and even moreover reluctant to treat you unless for emergency. If you have become a permanent resident this may be otherwise and have been known to return monies after complaints have been lodged. When I broke my leg they were unwilling to treat me in the Mainland and also the emergency treatment was poor as they were so afraid to do something wrong, that they did in fact not put something right.

Lastly and most importantly, be prepared for the worst. Even if a job has been promised in writing, emails and phone calls exchanged, expense incurred in your moving and relocation to the place of your new employment, things can still go wrong and you may find yourself jobless, out of funds and with a signed contract on a room or apartment before you can pause for breath. Does this seem unlikely or unfair? Yes to both, but these things happen. At best, it would be to have an online interview with video or if you can afford it, go first for a scout and face to face interview before you set out upon your way. Even if work is given or provided, it does not mean that you will be given the appropriate workload straight away and it will take time to build up trust and rapport for you to obtain the necessary position.

The phrase 'when in Rome, be like the Romans' I can now vouch as being one of the truest statements, not so for China, for one can never be like them even if you have lived there for 25 years, but in Rome, as opposed to the rest of Europe (France included, there you just have to be able to speak French) if you do not fit into their category of 'Roman' you will not fit in at all.
Remember forewarned is forearmed.

´The Art of Relocation!`

Yes, I have come to the conclusion, that relocating is an art in itself. There should be courses on it at the university, not just lectures and a pat on the back with a resounding call of ´good luck´as
you breeze out the door. There definitely needs to be a proper training in the what to do, how to find out and how to stop yourself from pulling your hair out!

It should come easily to a semi pro such as me, for after all my first re location was at the age of
16, when I was send away to ´finishing school´in Switzerland, Luzern for a year. I still have memories of my large and heavy suitcase (not on wheels in those days), a box containing books and a bag filled with paperwork and monies. I was not alone, as there were around 12 of us coming from London or England and mostly knew each other from school or community activities, but nevertheless it was still a little daunting.

We travelled from Gatwick to Zurich and there had to catch a train to Luzern. As there was no
way we could lug our bags alone, we shared a large wagon with porter in tow. The only problem was that we were not geared up for Swiss trains, you know. those that leave punctually on the dot! I still have visions of us throwing the cases aboard, holding on to the door handle, as we
scrambled aboard our train. The frowns of the guard sent us into a fit of giggles as we tumbled and stumbled over our cases and into our seats.

Our troubles did not stop there, but as we were in a group, we eventually shuffled along, learnt the local lingo and found our favorite haunts for shopping. But, to date, I remember well going into the heart of the city for the first time, buying my bus ticket at the vending machine and being the only one to step onto the bus. Hysterical laughter followed my tram as the group I had started out with, were now left behind and I was the only one being transported along! Getting off at the next stop, I beat a fast retreat back to the previous stop, to be greeted by my peers, with tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks, for you see, I had now idea how to get back without them! Daunting when you are only 16 and more than a few years ago. Bearing this in mind, I thought the next time it was time to move house, it would have the same laughter, but a lot more maturity to make the way more smooth.

Thirteen years later, there I was off again, but this time with entourage. After careful planning, but in the end in haste, I packed up my brood of 4 and relocated to another country, leaving my
husband behind. My home sold, but another having been bought through a video clip, I moved
myself, children and 10 suitcases in all, to the Middle East. My first day was spent walking around the streets, with two in the buggy and the other two on either side, looking for the local
supermarket!! Not being able to speak the local language, I used a mixture of hand signals and
sounds of a cow, to explain that I was looking for milk! Through my tears, not of laughter as of
yet, we muddled through and eventually settled down to a new life.

Next, well as you know already, or if you don´t read back through the blog, I made it to China.
Now one could well say, ´if you made it in China, you can make it anywhere!´ True I must reply,
but as you read on, you will see it has not been so easy.....

Well, I´m back! But still travelling.....

For those of you who have followed my adventures in China, please may I first apologise for
stopping the blog mid term, but I decided to put my musings down into a book, which I am now
hoping will be published..... watch this spot for further details.

In brief summary, let me say that I finalized my teachings there at the end of August and decided to relocate once more... this is where begins the new travel log and happenings in a
new European location begin.

I hope that you will join me once more on my mishaps, meetings and false starts as I muddle my
way along once more in the ´Art of Relocation!´

Crackers, but Christmas has passed!

Well, Chinese New Year has arrived and if you are unsure whether it is upon you or not, you just have to make sure that you support yourself with a good pair of ear plugs as the firecrackers are being let off morning, noon and night! Also the red lanterns are out on the roads again, adding to
a festive feel, whilst fireworks light up the sky. Nevertheless it seems strange to me in a country that is so careful as to the welfare of its children, it lets them run around freely pulling lit firecrackers along behind them!

The shops pre new year were full of shoppers as they purchased food items in gift packs and red underwear for those whom the Golden Year of the Ox is their birth year, so have to wear a red item
on their person the whole year through. Visitors from the west are always under the impression that things in China are 'dirt' cheap, but this is not so, as quality items and fashion couture names are probably even more expensive here than in Europe, whereas cheap items can be bought anywhere in the world, the difference being here that some brands have given permission to have their items
copied, but in some cases do not. Buying cheap for limited funds usually means poor quality, but
what there is here in abundance is 'factory' outlets where you can purchase the real item, at half price. This in turn could be likened to an extremely classy second hand store, where you at times
can pick up new goods but for half their retail tag.

Knowing how to bargain is the key, research of prime importance and knowing when to walk away either when you have met your match or in hope of a better deal. I personally only go shopping when I am in the market
to make a purchase, whether it be with friend, colleague or student, I will
argue the price till I get the deal that I want. Do not be intimidated or believe all that you read in the guide books about the 'aggressive' sales people, money changing hands will always talk.

New Year is a family time and China is no different to anywhere in the world, where members wish
to be together and it rather nice and not at all disturbing to hear the noise of my neighbors as they
go up and down the stairs in groups, laughing and chattering away to each other in their excitement. Looking out the window it is also a pleasing sight to see the inhabitants of this city bundled up against the wind and cold, clutching their red parcels and gifts, laden in their arms, as they ensure that they make their way to pay their respects to all members of their extended family.
Here even though our cultures are different, festivities are generally the same.

Eating as I have mentioned before never ceases to astonish me, but even though slurping soup and pulling up noodles with a whoosh and not like we eat spaghetti, there is a custom to the order of eating. Chopsticks should be used in communal dishes, working your way from the outside in, but for others a separate set is used. Napkins though are small and licking sticky fingers surprisingly not acceptable. The delicate way of rolling up Peking Duck can be tricky, but the taste
is delicate and worthwhile. In my opinion though, as I have said before, Chinese food is generally
too wet either being cooked in too much oil or water for my taste.

It is nice though to see the locals come out of hibernation in the cold winter, wrapped up in an array of woolly caps and hats, scarves and fur lined boots, with thick sheepskin gloves adorning their hands. Even though snow has as of yet not appeared, the cold has a way of seeping through your bones. Taxis on a freezing morning can be an impossibility to find, causing one to wait for more than 30 minutes whilst they pass by full and unwilling to stop, although I have found that with a cane in hand, they are more obliging than without and ofter come around the side to offer assistance if
needed or not.

So, I have read my horoscope, am taking the required vacation, snuggling up in my central centrally heated apartment, working my way through my pantry and catching up on my blog.
What will this year hold in store? For that I shall have to wait and see. Hopefully for all of us,
good health, peace and prosperity and I will add to that love of your family, good friendship and
enjoyment in whatever you do.

Culture vs Culture

It is so easy to be judgemental and so important not to be, when one lives abroad you have to remember that we are only visitors or guests and even if our stay should be for a long while, unless we take upon ourselves citizenship, we do not have the true right to pass ruling.

Being away from home during the time of the Gaza war, has for me put a different perspective on how it is to be an outsider and listen to what people say or hint at in their opinion of your country and what is happening there. But nevertheless, one sees cultural differences and wonder how long it will take to cross the barrier to reach a better understanding.

Today KFC and McDonald's have not only cornered the market on fast food, but have managed to create a menu that appeals to the Chinese taste, but labelled as an all American brand, including noodles and rice into their list as well as french fries. This reminds me of the time when Chinese food hit the Mediterranean and those who came to sample the food, would insist on bread being served as an accompaniment to their meal, today years on, not being the case any longer.

Saying this, the will to fit into a western civilization doesn't include the use of mobile phones like outside China, here they are more for personal fun and usage than being a public disturbance.
It is not that business people will not sit at a meal and talk on their phone, but less obvious th an it is abroad when two, three people or more will partake of a meal together and each one is oblivious of the other whilst they hold their own personal conversations with whomever it is on the other end. Otherwise they are more like toys, with each one having more facilities and toys than the next, as each one vies for more functions. Here using the phone whilst driving is forbidden, but as their seems to be a greater shortage of policeman on the street to check on this crime, so accidents whilst driving do happen.
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It is amazing how many cars there are on the roads, but more amazingly how they all look in mint condition, so when asking as to how this was possible, I was told that not only do all cars as
in abroad, have to pass their MOT, but should they have an accident they must fix them as
quickly as possible or be fined. This in a way is a good thing, because the roads even though heavily laden, look cleaner. Strange though that even though this is due to aesthetics is also because of the environmental issue, but when I see the factory funnel chimneys billowing out white smoke, this seems a strange contradiction.

In a society where again the policy is one child, it is difficult for mothers of other nations who are planning to have a baby, when their present child turns around and asks "why. don't you love
me any longer?" What most parents have to realise is, that all children, whatever the age, will feel jealousy at some point at the birth of a new baby, whether it be immediate or at a later age or stage. It is normal. What is maybe different, is that because of the onus of socializing here in China with work colleagues, it is extremely important if one wants to ensure a successful promotion in the future, to go out with work mates is a must and be part of the external life that
is work. Today with difficulties being faced by some of the companies and salary reductions being enforced, it is hard for some who have come to regard the work place as their home, either
because it is their first place of employment or because of friends. I myself have always counted
myself as extremely lucky as the places where I have worked have not only become family, but have continued to remain so many years later.

Passing Time

It seems unbelievable how time has passed by, a year already since my first entry into Beijing
and a new Chinese Year, the Golden Ox, has begun. During the last month there has been war
in Gaza, a rise and fall of the stock market, the financial cutbacks effecting China too and a new
American President in office.

But despite all these events, life moves on its uneventful way, each one busy with his own life, worries, health and financial issues, dating, loving and generally having fun. Through this time I have continued my fascination with the bicycle phenomena of Beijing, finding myself staring every morning at the non stop array of riders decked out in their winter woollies, vigorously riding their way along. Do those who carry an overload have to receive a licence? On the rare
occasion I have even spotted young children riding small vehicles with stabilizers on the busy street, whilst their mothers trot alongside. But what of those who are unable to fit into this category? Are their any such Beijingers? Yes, I have heard, there are. Even though it is of the
minority, there are children who do not have this built in sense of equilibrium and do not ride bikes with their peers. As for the women above the age of 40, they seem to have their own style of riding, choosing to set off with their left foot on the left pedal, raising their right over the seat as they go, quite a feat that is both admirable and fascinating to watch.

How do these children feel? Are they misfits in a society where fitting in is of the prime importance? Social pressures happen everywhere and I hear this from both adult and children
who do not quite make the fit for one reason or another. From a young age all signs of affection are stopped, both by parent and grandparent and the children grow up without any physical signs of affection, something that I find incredibly lonely and even though they think it is the
norm, can lead to all kinds of socializing difficulties.

Even though Beijing winters are dry, but cold, even so in the summer months, children are
restricted from playing any form of sport that can cause physical harm, be it football, basketball,
or anything else that may cause irreparable damage. Music is something that is encouraged though, usually more than one instrument and can in any country help a child to fit in, whether it be drums, trumpet, horn or some other kind of more unusual tool that will help the individual
feel special.

An avid viewer of American Idol, we can see in the lives of many how music or song has helped them through hard times and I myself chose the pen to help me. But it is nevertheless a society that condemns more than one child and it is astonishing to hear how in the villages a fine can be as little as 80 rmb for an extra offspring, but in the cities in the thousands, still able to result in loss of future promotion or even at times, of job. It does seem a little unfair, that if a family is willing to pay the price, they must still be penalised, it is hard for us westerners to understand.

But social life in China is always booming, for even though restaurants are geared to the middle or upper classes, even the poorest of pockets can occasionally afford a cheap and cheerful snack
from a street vendor or Chinese fast food chain. During the last month I have been wined and dined at a number of establishments and though I am limited in what I am able to eat, it has been an interesting experience.

Peking Duck at the most famous of places can be priced from anywhere between 250 rmb upward for two people, but I was taken to a place that fed 5 adults and one child, 2 ducks, stuffed rolls with meat, rice, a side dish, bottle of coke and what is known as white wine (alcohol) for just 220 rmb!! Tasty you may well ask and the answer is yes.

For all you Humus lovers though, I must point out that what is served in restaurants here is a far cry from the authentic variety that we find back home and should be avoided if you hold yourself to be a connoisseur; though one can eat at a Mediterranean restaurant extremely well for around 75 rmb. Of course hands down, the American style eateries, excluding McDonald's or
Kentucky Fried Chicken that cater more for the local palette, serve large portions for reasonable amounts.

More about the cuisine, promotion and social.. izing next time..

Idiosyncrasies and Resolutions

It is fun being back, China never ceases to be a place of fascination and now, a year almost to the
day since I first arrived, a time to look back. When I first entered Beijing, I was nervous everything
appeared so large and different, the language an impossibility and the culture so alien to the hubbub and speed of Israel. Here even though there were many, raised voices they were only heard at places of eating. Horns were pressed on the roads and the drivers seemed to turn corners without any traffic light indication. Here one could be knocked down by a bicycle, spoken to in a language irrelevant whether you could understand or not, stared at, even having your
ear rings touched on your person as if you did not exist! But, I had survived all the shocks and even to a point become part of this community that they call the Chaoyang District of Beijing.

Since December 2008, when I returned, I have seen the changes that have taken place since August and the influence of the foreign visitors and athletes that took part in the historic Olympics.
The stares, glances and looks on the street are far less, it seems that it has become a regular
occurrence to see foreigners in their own particular style of dress. The taxi drives, though few and
far between, are able to say a smattering of words in English, people are more helpful, although I
am not sure if that is more to do with my decorative crutches, than their new found tolerance, but
assistance and holding open doors is far more apparent, especially with my neighbors who have
even taken the garbage out of my hands to throw away or helped me take my shopping up the three
flights of stairs that I have to take into my apartment.

The most startling for me is the taxi drivers again, not in the fact that they can say a word or two in
English, but their helpfulness and tolerance towards my physical state. The large heavy brown boots that encase my feet may have something to do with this, as they are unusual, ugly and clumsy, but they manage to allow me to wear bandage and heavy socks, so what do I care about
their beauty.

As for the other peculiarities, that would be the 'fashionable' PJ's worn by the above 50 citizens of
Shanghai, that were used to wearing this particular attire on the street as a sign of prosperity and now maybe more of a show of defiance against coming hard times. Dogs, toy ones as we call them, even though hairy in appearance, are decked out fashionable attire of warm woolly and elegant coats, as their hair springs up and down as they trot down the road for their daily strolls.

Business dinners are an important part of closing a deal here in Asia, but for me the ever westerner/Israeli who is used to both the cutlery 'start from the outside and work your way in' attitude as well as there is nothing like 'mopping up the Hummus with a piece of pitta bread' style of eating,
can not quite fathom how one can close a deal whilst slurping up ones noodles! this i still have to learn.

For me, Asia has become more westernised, more McDonald's said to be opening all around the country, Chinese students who have gone abroad for their diplomas, are now returning to seek jobs back home due to the lack of abroad and bringing with them new ideas. Foreigners seeking employment were in their thousands at a recruitment fair held in America, but places were limited
as the government ensures that there is work for its citizens first. Here you enter any store and find
an abundance of assistants standing around waiting to help. There are more than is necessary, but
is a warming sight to see, for nevertheless that the pay is low, it is still better than claiming benefits and provides uniform and many a time lunch for the employee. Rather some change in your pocket, less clothes needed to buy, a reason to get up in the morning and a warm stomach, than to
have to stand in line for a handout.

Tourism though has hit, even the famous places such as Xian, the home of the Terracotta soldiers,
for even history cannot stop the economic unrest. Many construction companies and factories have
sent their employees home for a forced vacation till after the Spring Festival, the Chinese New Year, with no guarantees that the work will begin again in February, others having to take 30% of
their salary, but remain on site. But, on the other hand, there are those who are being laid off, with
no sign of hope of re employment at that firm in sight, worldwide. To help the local economy, the
Chinese Government issues a list of all the National holidays that will take place this coming year
and have made a number of 'long' weekends, with Sunday, the day after the break, becoming a
work day, to encourage spending. It is a sign of festivity for 'Beijingers' to go out to eat over this time, with family entourage. On the night of 31 December, the whole city was lit up as if it was
La's Vegas at 9.30pm, but the streets deserted and un walked upon by 11pm except for the odd
ex pat reveller.

But, here in Asia, childish activities and fun are part of the normal style of life, where Disney Tokyo
is bringing in the numbers and Lego beating all holiday sales. Bicycling on ice is an activity
where you get to ride a bike on a frame attached to a pair of ski/skates! Here the freezing winter
is not heralded with rain, but a dry one that leaves your bones frozen and even a little stiff. Padded
coats giving a layered look are the must winter wear, with boots encasing ones legs and a hood
usually fur lined (no worries about harm being done to animals here) encasing the face. Gloves, well you shouldn't leave home without them and I suggest that someone come up with an idea for
a nose warmer, which would appear a lot more elegant than the face (operation room) masks worn
in vogue, not only as a protection at the rising pollution's return, but as a muffler against the cold icy
wind.

Lastly, happily and thankfully the skies are still mainly blue and from time to time, grey does put
in an appearance, known as the Beijing sky and I have to smile when a student will point out that
in films about England, they too have this 'look' of smog and fog, which leads me to explain that this
was true at the time of 'Jack the Ripper' but now is only due to bad weather. I am not sure if they
quite believe me, I wonder if I should tell them about the beautiful blue skies of the Middle East?
but have decided that maybe not, for they probably wouldn't believe me about that either.

Is That You?

Struggling with a heavy bag laden with gifts, I made my way up the stairs of the entrance to the
place where I work. The security guard, here dressed in business suit, as opposed to uniform,
came quickly forward to open the door for me and assist me with my burden. Taking the lift up
to the 8th floor, I was understandably nervous, what would be my reception.

But, I need not have worried, as I entered the doorway, the smiles were wide, the voice warm with emotion and pride. "You're back!" was the cry. Greetings of 'how well you look', 'how brave you are', 'we were not sure if you would come back' rang out, but here I was, now hoping to pick
up not from where I left off, but to restart.

Pleasantries over, it was now time to discuss the work situation. The financial crisis had reached
China too, but not yet to the extent of grave concern, there was work, but quiet for this time of year, but things looked positive for the coming one after the Chinese New Year. It was agreed that for the time being I would work in house, as not to incur too much travel, which may prove to be difficult with a pair of crutches in tow. It was good to be back.

Now the month has ended and the new year begun. I have become a pro at getting in and out
of cabs, now challenging myself to try and go with one crutch. I have heard from other people
worldwide that the quiet times have hit, both in the business sector and education one too.

As for me, the true and warm welcome from colleague and student alike, has shown me that I
was right to come back. I could not have left without saying goodbye properly, or have gone
without completing my contracted time here too. In truth I have returned different, not only
in appearance plus appendage, hopefully temporarily, but with a new attitude to work, how
much there is I will take, but I will not eat myself up if there isn't enough and keep to my goal
of continuing to write!

Just before Christmas, we had a work party. This was a first for me and the only thing that
was missing was the mistletoe, but that was a good thing. Fun and games were had by all. For
me, it was strange that a nation that has no connection to Christianity, celebrate parties all over
the city with tombola, lucky dips and even Christmas gifts!? The streets are decorated with
trees and lights, Santa Claus decked out in his red suit bright and cheerful at many a site, mainly
of course outside the many shopping malls that are strategically placed around the city. Christmas Dinner is available at a price, one of the most expensive being 3,500 yuan per person
and there were no shortage of diners lining up to dine. But, the 'dinner' is mainly eaten at night!

Beijing is not high on the list of places to celebrate this holiday or even that of new year, for it is
not a religious festival of their keeping, but nevertheless, one has to commend the Chinese on
trying to make the ex pats feel welcome in their city, especially if they are unable to fly back home for the festivities. Now all that was left, was to celebrate the new year.

The Moment of Truth

To my surprise opening the door to my apartment was a pleasant experience, it actually felt
like a home away from home. I had truly forgotten how homely I had made it with a few choice
pieces from back home and cheap accessories from Beijing. The first thing to catch my eye was
the gallery of photographs of my family, back home they are not necessary to display as I have the real thing, but here they are a warm and welcome reminder that they are always with me.

Once my bags had been dumped unceremoniously by my driver, who was holding his bag in a sign of silent complaint, I paid him for his efforts and closed the door. First check was the electricity, water and for any unwelcome visitors that may have decided to take up residence in
my absence, finding there was some and none of the latter, I decided to reward myself with a
nice cup of Israeli coffee and the left over sandwiches that my daughter had cleverly prepared.

Now fortified with renewed energy I began to tackle the opening of my luggage and the 'clean up'
of my apartment, to give it a fresh dust free fragrance. Visitors came bearing gifts of fruit and
veg, that helped take away the pangs of homesickness. Errands that I myself was unable to do
were undertaken and the initial pressure of settling back in was taken off my shoulders.

After a two day rest up, I was ready to go and visit my place of work, but first I had to deal with
the lack of telephone, as it had been cut off whilst I was away. This of course would prove to be
my re welcome back to China, for I now had to contend with the Beijing taxi drivers once more.
The guard of my building block kindly assisted me in hailing a taxi and persuading him to drive
in to assist me with my bags. As no one in the area spoke English, I used the paper of the telephone bill to assist me to explain my place of destination. Unfortunately, as I have said a
number of times in the past, many of the drivers are unable to read very well and so started a
unwanted tour of the city as he aimlessly drove around without having a clue where he was going!

Now you will of course say, why did I not do something. Well, I did. Firstly I telephoned the phone company and handed him the phone to receive directions, which he got, not once but
5 phone calls later and 5 sets of repeated directions, two stops at strangers on the street, two
extra calls to the secretary of my office to ask for translation assistance later, we finally found it!
To give him credit, it was tucked away behind a building, although large in existence, difficult to
see. Now he had to park, in a parking lot, as I had to scale down, crutches and all, a steep slope
to enter the premises. (Remember that in my opinion, agility and balance is something like DNA
in the Asian body!)

Now of course, the long organised wait. Everywhere in China, that is not a 'hole in the wall' office, runs on a number system, with plastic chairs galore available for your comfort and expected patience. Nowhere do you hear a raised voice complaining that someone has jumped into your turn, all is organised and orderly, with a security card at the door, not waiting to check
your back for a gun or bomb, but to ensure peace and flow in the system. Finally, my number
lit up the screen, but here was to be a new difficulty, English! Here I began to see the changes that had begun pre Olympics, places of public service, that may require assistance of English, now seem to have someone in place to help. So, to my rescue came a most personable young
man, who enabled me to arrange both for Internet and telephone hook up to be arranged within
the week.

My now patient taxi driver, happy with his now high fare, took me without further hitch to my
next place of call, work, now I had to wonder what my reception would be when they saw me
again after such a long break of three and a half months.

On the Wings of a 'Dragon'

'Support your flag' has always been my motto, but after my disastrous previous
flights with our own airline, I absolutely refused to do so this journey and instead opted to fly British. As St. George, famed for his slaying of the dragon
is the patron Saint of England, it seemed a good choice, but admittedly I had heard mixed reports of this Country's airline and its well documented fatal opening at Terminal 5, Heath row. Nevertheless, I decided to take my chances.

Now a tip for all future travellers, never take anything for granted, always read
the website baggage allowance tips in advance and come prepared for battle. Gone are the days of getting away without paying overweight, for most of the
airlines, but even more frustrating is the fact whether you can bring one or two
bags and up to what weight are they allowed to be!

Having carefully read and measured my hand luggage allowance, I understood that I would be able to bring a large suitcase up to 23kg and if it was a long
distance haul, which I presumed China to be, a second case too. So, here I was
with a long, soft bag (I had especially chosen this kind as to ensure that no extra
weight would be incurred due the heavy steel trolley that is usually sewn into the
lining) an extra large shopping bag that encased my blankets - both of these to
be sent through. My on flight bag that held breakables and my computer and my rucksack, with my on flight necessities.

But, when it came to check in, I was informed, that I was not allowed to send two bags through and only upon insisting that the website was misleading, was
reluctantly allowed to do so! Next, even though requesting wheelchair help and
finding it difficult to walk with my hand luggage, I made my way somewhat gingerly and lumbering through the security. A tearful goodbye to my daughter,
words choking in my throat, I knew it would be hard to go, I had spent so many an hour with her talking, laughing and sharing as well as the best time ever with
my granddaughter, but it was 'unfinished business' that was pulling me back.

Offers of work there had been, but I still felt in a 'Dorothy' like state, having been pulled out of Beijing with no warning and felt that I had not completed my stint or had a chance to say goodbye, so now with a breaking heart, I said my
farewells and went on through. At the passport control, which is always a little intimidating and formal, I was affronted when the border policewoman climbed
down and came around the front, unsure of what was happening, I was stunned to find an offer of assistance and annoyance at her colleagues that no one had
stepped forward to help me in my predicament, of balancing myself and my
luggage too. Due to her kindness, I was place in a buggy and driven straight to
the border area and assisted right onto the plane!

My seat found, I settled myself in for the long journey. The staff was helpful and
kind, passing by many a time to ensure that I was comfortable, so unlike my emergency flight in August. A brief stopover in London would ensure my praise
of this airline's service. From the plane I was taken and dropped off at a waiting area where I was to be picked up again and taken to my next Gate of call. Seeing that the queue for this service was long and having a few hours to spare, a helpful assistant told me that I would be able to check in my hand luggage, so
freeing myself of any items other than those necessary and would be able to
wander around the airport lounge area.

But, after lightening myself of my load, I was aghast to find upon arrival at the
duty free area, that it was truly something to be proud of, but I was incapable of
walking it. Stopping to look only at the magazines and books, I was struggling to make my way through the maze to a coffee area, when a voice came up behind me, asking 'are you in need of assistance?'. There was a red vested smiling face pushing a wheelchair, with passenger inside, looking at me quizzically. I gratefully nodded my head and he promised to be back in a flash
to help me with whatever I needed.

True to his word, he returned and wheeled my around a while, before depositing me at a coffee shop after having booked my my next mode of transport to the Gate at an appointed hour. On time, I returned, only to be informed that my chariot had already departed, but told 'not to worry love' we shall find you another and true to their word, they did. The flight though long, passed pleasantly enough and as we drew nearer, I began to worry a little about further assistance in China. But be concerned, I need not have been, for with prompt
efficiency a chair was awaiting me and together with a porter in tow, my luggage picked up in the briefest of time and we were outside and raring to go.

Taxi found, porter paid, I was on my way back to my apartment, what would be waiting for me there I wondered, for no one had set foot inside for three and a half months. Would I be able to make it up the stairs? Did I still have electricity? All these questions were soon enough going to be answered.

The Moment of Truth

Having been given the all clear, it was now time to get ready to go. A last clean
out of the fridge and freezer, a final dust and wash down, a quick (well to be honest hobble) trip to the market, a final suitcase buy and home to pack up and
get ready to go.

I had arrived in Beijing with an empty suitcase, but now it seemed I didn't have
any room, it was not only because I had arrived with a bag only fit for the inside
of the plane, but nevertheless, I now seemed to be laden down. For a 'wanna be'
backpacker, I am obviously not doing a very good job, for even though I know how to pack well, using every nook and cranny, I seem to always be overladen with 'can't travel without its'!

Even though today we are in the world of the computer and Internet, I am still of the old fashioned kind, who needs pen and paper for writing on and reading material that is actually in a bound form, soft or hardback irrelevant. Besides the required reading material, there is always a soft toy, my old faithful friends having been left behind in Beijing, Hippo, Scooby Doo and Blue Elephant, I now had a new brown curly haired friend, named dog, who had been my constant
companion and supportive friend through my leg trials and tribulations, so he now had to find room in the ever expanding case.

When I first went to China, almost a year ago, I had gone completely unprepared for the biting cold wind that was to await me there. Never having
relinquished myself to a winter coat, tights, sweaters or any other restrictive clothing; I had gone with a suitcase full of light weight long sleeved tops and a
jacket that was nothing more that a large holey cardigan that did nothing to keep the wind out through its gaps. After a month in this foreign land, I found
myself suffering from a cold that I never thought was possible, so I now intended
to be better equipped. This of course meant, for sock less, no stocking me, a compromise of leggings, that in being no way would I agree to wear the full tights, but maybe a legging or two in a bright color, leg warmers (great idea on
my daughter's part) and fluffy socks, might solve the problem.

Now a bag to contain my warmest blanket, for previously I was sure that a light
quilting would suffice, toiletries as after my last fiasco of washing my hair in
conditioner for a long while, until I realised by my receding hair that I was not
using shampoo being unable to read the Chinese labels and a stock of coffee and
food to get me through the first few days, I was ready to leave.

But now the moment had come, it was hard to do so, so with a shrug of my
shoulders, my crutches in hand and a last glance back at my home, I stepped out into the night with my daughter, son in law and granddaughter in tow, the moment of truth had arrived, it was time to go.

Oiling the Hinges

Well, one of the bolts is out, but the rest are still in and I feel like a rusty old car
that needs more than its hinges oiled! Was it my expectations that now would be
a case of 'gliding along'? Could be, or just not being very well informed as what to expect. To say the least, it felt like a major set back, I found myself once again
in tears, I wasn't expecting it to be so hard another time over.

Now I had to wait again, this time till the stitches would be removed, which was to
be in exactly two weeks, I was holding the surgeon to his word that I would be able to travel back to China immediately after that. Nevertheless, I was playing it
cautious, still exercising and going out for daily walks, sorting out the house so that it would be free of any unnecessary items and even saying fond farewells.

In truth I didn't buy my ticket till a week before and as for shopping, I kept putting
off the dreaded day till the last moment. I love to shop, but not for myself and
my body now having changed shape again, it was with trepidation that I was to
embark on this adventure yet again. I have a very bad habit of buying something,
either for the day that I may be able to get into it, because I have seen it at a
bargain price, or have illusions that it may fit sometime; or worse still, buy something that does fit well, but bury it in the closet for fear that when I will look
better, someone will only remember me in my enlarged state wearing that outfit and not notice it now looking better!

The next more pressing predicament was to be the one of shoes. I was always
a shoe mad 'shopper' and in my younger years, my wardrobe would be full of an
array of many styles and of course colors, but due to my 'foot abuse' had totally
ruined my feet and now had to settle for almost flat ties of a more subdued shade
just happy that they could encase my feet. Nevertheless, I have had many an
incident with shoes over the years many a story to tell. On one memorable New Year, I was given permission to go out and buy a new pair of shoes on my own, these were to be worn to worship in the synagogue and my mother entrusted me
with the monies and sent me on my way. This was an unusual event and I was
happy to make the most of this opportunity.

I was 16 years old and of course the uppermost thought in my mind, was to impress. Being part of a youth group that met weekly, I was determined to make my entrance. After some heavy traipsing around the stores, I finally settled on a
nave blue pair of high heeled shoes, that in the shop felt non too high or uncomfortable. But, as you can well imagine, after walking the required distance
of half an hour each way in the morning, then standing for prayers and then going
out in the afternoon, I was by this time not only unable to put one foot in front of the other, but let alone stand!! My friends, willing and able aides, held me up on
either side, allowing me to lean heavily upon their person, as I stumbled over each step, but as soon as a relative would come in sight, I would hold myself up
carefully and proudly, ensuring that no wince passed my lips, for fear that this misadventure would reach the ears of my mother, who would berate me for sure!

To this day, as I am now safely and sturdily encased in heavy Velcro footwear, all
signs of beauty on my feet forgotten, I can only but smile at my vanity then, for today just being able to work, even with a cane, will be a small price to pay after my fall. So, there I was in the centre of town, searching desperately for a shoe,
luckily to remember a small outpost that was able to furnish me, comfortably and
helpfully with my quest. Now, a last few bits and bobs, a last hospital trip and I
would be on my way. But was I doing the right thing, that was now the question
that was playing heavily on my mind??

I'm Still Awake!!!

Why hospitals ask people to come at one time and then make them sit and wait
for hours on end, I still cannot work out. The day arrived and my appointment for the op was at 9.30. We arrived at the day clinic set aside for operations that allow the patient to go home the same day and were amazed at the amount of people that were sitting there. The office was situated just next to the eye clinic and we quickly came to realize that most of the occupants were there for
that particular surgery.

After having my blood pressure checked, changing into the compulsory gown and answering the necessary questionnaire, we (my daughter and I) settled down to wait and wait we did. The hours passed because we were so busy talking, but the wait was long and worrisome, as the more that time went by, the more jittery I got. Finally my name was called, the time 14.30. No wheelchair necessary, we made our way down in the elevator to the operating
rooms area, where again we were greeted my some now familiar faces from the
upstairs clinic, who too were awaiting their turn.

Now is when things got a little hair raising. My surgeon, was nowhere in sight,
but we sat down ready to have another prolonged wait. There was a lady nervously waiting and we exchanged pleasantries. She told us that she was
waiting for her husband, who was undergoing similar surgery to my own and she was a little put out that his own surgeon had not put in a show, but he
was being operated on by another. We assured her that the gentleman in question who was doing the operation was in fact the head of the department itself and that he was in safe hands. She proceeded to go on to explain her
nervous disposition, that was due to the fact that they had persuaded her spouse
to undergo the surgery under a Local Anaesthetic as apposed to General
Anaesthesia; the difference being that for one you are awake and aware, whereas
for the other fully asleep.

She in fact felt that he had been encourage to choose the first, due to the fact that the hour was late and if he would have the latter, the day clinic was now
closed and after the first recovery room, there would be no place for him to rest till he was able to go home. Commiserating with her and with assurances that
he was in safe hands, we awaited my turn.

After a while, the Head of the Department came in to see us and after asking all the necessary questions, too requested that I do the op under a Local. I immediately refused, saying that from past experience I was unable to and wished to have the Full Anesthetic. I also pointed out that my own surgeon had
promised to do the operation and that I preferred to wait for him to be present
before they began. Left again to our own thoughts, we discussed a little the strange situation and came to the same conclusion, that the lateness of the hour
had caused this strange request.

A nurse came in next and asked me why I had not signed the forms accepting
a Full Anesthetic and we explained that I had not been asked. From this moment on, my heart was pounding. I climbed on to the required bed and was
wheeled towards the operating theatre as the nurse pressed another piece of
paper into my hands explaining the down sides of the anesthetic! In the annexe to the theatre, the anesthesiologist again tried to persuade me to use a Local!
By this time I was a bag of nerves. After some discussion, we agreed that he would put me under and finally my own surgeon appeared!

But the fun had still only just begun. Wheeled into the theatre, I was transferred on to the narrow hard bed, where I was immediately strapped in. On my left my arm was pulled out to put the drip and on the right one of the male nurses was pulling at my leg, washing it down with alcohol and tying it up into a side ways position of immobility.

But I was still awake!! Beginning to feel forced to do something against my will,
I traumatically cried out in a croaky voice 'I'm still awake!!'

'Okay' said the surgeon, 'we won't begin till you are under'. After two or three
unsuccessful tries at finding my veins, the anesthesiologist obviously managed to put me to sleep and I woke up to find myself in the recovery room, where I
quickly told my daughter about what had happened. After a while the anesthesiologist came by to see me, squeezing my arm as a reassuring sign, just
confirming for me that if I had not cried out, I would not have received what I
requested!!

So, due to the lateness of the hour, I was checked in to a hospital bed for an over
night stay, at the surgeons expense, for if he was unsuccessful in releasing me on
time, it would be forfeited from his own pocket. Poetic justice I felt, after the
traumatic experience I had been laid out to!

One Step for Me, the Next....

Oh my! It was not easy I can tell you, those first steps, I don't know how babies
find the courage to do it, maybe because they have as of yet no fear of falling!
Stairs seemed like a mountain and the pain, well you do not want me to tell you
about that. It is amazing how we take things for granted. The following day I moved back into my own apartment. I suppose that to describe where I live would be to liken it to a Chinese Hutong, a series of straight and windy lanes that lead into a labyrinth of quaint stone houses, still erect, from a past era, the
only difference being its modern day inhabitants and clothing.

Down the staircase leading to the passage and entrance to my house, was a tearful one, but once conquered, pride replaced the crooked smile and I thankfully sunk down into my personal armchair to view my surroundings. I had rented out my apartment during the time I was away and even though
chose tenants that gave a warm outward impression, was disappointed in finding that they had treated my home a 'little too much' as their own, but this
is the risk we take when we leave our possessions in the hands of another and now I was home and able to re stamp my surroundings with my own style.

The one thing that I had forgotten, was that there was a small step up and over
into the bathroom and for the first number of times, this did in fact prove to be
my stumbling block! The days past quickly as the Day of Atonement got nearer,
this the most solemn day in the Jewish Calender, the day that every soul stands
in judgement, is a day of fasting, penance and reflection. Every year, as our own
personal tradition has it, my daughter and I would go for the final day's prayers
to the nearest synagogue, to join in and at the final cry, hear the loud blast on the ram's horn, blown clear and loud, but alas for me, this would be the first in
a long time, that I was unable to take up this post by her side.

Festivities over, now the Feast of Tabernacles, but for me, no outings to the city,
more a series of physiotherapy and starting to regain movement in my foot and
ankle. To stay sane, it is imperative to have a routine, whether it be when to bathe, eat, surf, stretch.... one it saves the sanity and too it keeps you occupied.

I have never been one that is unable to keep myself occupied and enjoyed spending my time writing my book (that I am now looking for a publisher for)
reading and yes, admittedly, watching the..... box. I must say, that Dr Phil does
have a thing to say or two, but some of those chat shows, ... yawn! too much of
the same.

The days passed and I continued a barrage of tests, to discover that I, the
ultimate 'block of cheese' was now totally, but totally lactose intolerant of the
highest degree!! Help, what was I supposed to do now?! I could not believe it.

For all those overweight ladies out there, listen to a word from the now wise.
For three years and more, I knocked on the doors of doctors and yes even
dietitians complaining that I had previously lost a large amount of weight on
the Dr Herman diet, which runs mainly on eating white cheese or only one kind
of fruit, vegetable, protein etc.. weekly, but since I had stopped, the weight had
returned plus a whole lot more. I understand that doctors are busy, but to their
shame, they did not really believe me, choosing just to look at my size and say
that I was over eating. Swollen ankles, body and feeling generally unwell, it was
only as I was leaving the hospital I stopped to see a Professor for analysis as to
my state. At his suggestion I went to do many kinds of tests, ranging from
allergy, bone density, lactose, thyroid to name but a few, only to discover how
intolerant to lactose I actually was.

Of course there are many who say 'did you not think of that earlier', but in truth
even if I had, I would have just stopped eating milk products from cows and
continue with those from goat or sheep, plus I would never have read the
ingredients on every package to ensure that I do not intake even whey or dried
milk powder for example. It is amazing how much milk extract there is in products! For the first two weeks I was completely in a daze, I had no idea what
to eat, where to begin or how to cope, but slowly I got the hang of it, with the
help and encouragement of my family and as I did not possess a scale, resorted
to a tape measure to keep track of my now shrinking body and it was changing
before my very eyes.

It was as if someone had put a pin in me and I was starting to deflate. Now
here I was, managing to get to be a deft hand at hobbling around, confident
and merry, but I was soon to be brought up short by my impending hospital
date, to have one of the steel pins removed and I admit that I was now totally
unprepared again for that.

The Big Day

The big day finally arrived, it was time to go back to the hospital to remove the
cast. What would they do, would it hurt, what about the staples that they used
instead of stitches, was I expected to get up and walk away freely, would I be able to???? So many questions were going through my mind, I was nervous as
all h..l. Getting to the hospital was the easy part, all I had to do was sit back and
relax one last time as I was wheeled out in my Rolls Royce of chairs, to the awaiting taxi.

Now if none have you (thankfully) have ever broken a limb, I highly recommend that you do so in the 'off season' months, peak periods being Summer holidays,
Winter holidays and any other festive occasions that may take place according
to your personal religious calendar. Breaking a bone during the Olympic period
just ensured the fact that the accommodation at the hospital was fully booked and
so ensuring that the take off plaster date would also be overcrowded and the
waiting long. In truth I had become quite a dab hand at the waiting game, having undergone a series of blood tests, plaster change and doctor appointments to name but a few, so I always came well prepared with a book or
magazine, settling down quietly and calmly whilst others around me would fret
and complain at the length of the queues for the x ray or doctor.

My turn finally came, two hours late and with my limbs trembling, I went in for
the visit. Off to the plaster room, the surgeon commanded and off I was pushed.
I am not sure whether being the passenger or the driver is the more harassing of the two, as one has to be maneuvered through a series of extended plaster limbs and an array of wheelchairs, that would put any traffic jam to shame!
'hop on the bed' the attendant cried, 'hum, how?' I replied. Seeing that I was
lacking in height and physical ability, weakened by my long stay on wheels, he
lowered the table assisting me to alight. Now came the scary moment, I begged
him to be gentle, unashamedly admitting that I was scared. To his credit, he was gentle with my shaking limbs and I was amazed at such neat scaring.

Back at the surgeons post, I was told 'physiotherapy, full weight and make
another appointment for another op in a month, to remove one of the offending
screws'. Let me assure you that getting up and re-walking sounds easier than it
is. If you just break the bones, it is less harrowing, as you know that there is all
kinds of steel in there to hold all parts together, but when the muscles, tendons
or ligaments are effected, this is another 'kettle of fish'. Bless the man's heart, he is great at his job, but his bedside information manual is lacking to say the
least and as I albeit reluctantly said goodbye to my carriage, that I had become quite accustomed to during the period of my confinement, it was eagerly snapped up by another patient waiting in the wings to try it out.

So now, here I was, being told to try out some new crutches that would
encourage me to take steps and not hold me securely under the arms, I was to
say the least, terrified. It is difficult to explain from what, because the fear is
irrational. You know you are being held together by steel, but the dread is the
re fall that you have gone over in your memory so many a time in the past.
But here I was, being forced out of my safe cocoon and told to go out into the
big world again and take my first baby steps again, 50 odd years later.

A Beacon of Light

This morning when I woke up to read the tragic news from Mumbai India, of how many people
had been killed, I felt the need to write on my blog, even though I have not yet caught up with
my encounters and happenings to date.

When terrorism strikes, it hits the hearts and lives of each and everyone of us, irrelevant of race,
ethnic, religion or nationality, for we inevitably stop to think 'it could happen to me, or to someone that I know'. This is especially true amongst Israeli and Jewish people, as we are a
nation that where ever we may travel or find ourselves in the world, we nine times out of ten,
end up meeting someone we know, or find a mutual contact, friend, long lost relative or some
other kind of relationship that arouses a sense of kinship and contact that may just me momentary or continue for a lifetime.

My heart and wishes, go out to all those who have been affected by this terror, but here I wish
to take a moment to think about the ones that I feel personally I know of. There, far from home,
a young couple took upon themselves to go out into the world and spread not the word only of
religion, but of love and care. Their Chabad home was open to everyone, Jew and non Jew
alike, as a place not only of learning, but of shelter.

I myself have known a time of not having enough food to feed my children and was unable for
my eldest son, to afford to make him a Bar Mitzvah. This is a ceremony that happens for a boy
when he reaches the age of 13. He needs to learn a passage from the Torah (the holy scrolls)
that is read out in the synagogue on Saturday morning and is called up and honored with
blessings and celebrations on this important occasion.

At the time of my eldest child's Bar Mitzvah day, I was going through a financial crisis; I was then
and still am, a single mother of 4 and was so short of money that even food had become a major
problem. At that time I was working in Tourism, at a Diamond facility in Jerusalem, when a
fellow colleague brought my predicament to the attention of our Human Resources Manager.
She went, without my knowledge, throughout the premises, from the showroom to the factory
enlisting the financial help of all who worked on those premises, to ensure that my son would
have his day.

The teaching of the passages was done voluntarily by the Chabad Rabbi of the village where
I lived, in Tzur Hadassah, just 40 minutes outside Jerusalem, but the lunch and celebration
following the service was provided by my colleagues and other members of staff at that
center. What was more was that they bought him new clothes, a prayer shawl and most
importantly Tefillin (these are two small boxes, attached to binding, that are worn at morning
prayers, by boys and men from the age of 13, as a remembrance that God is everywhere).
The passages that are found in these boxes, are hand written on parchment, by a scribe and
my son's were written especially for him.

It was a true day of celebration and dancing, surrounded by dear friends, a showing of love,
belief and friendship. That day has stayed in my heart as well as that of my family and in
addition to it, I would often find bags of food waiting for me, anonymously, as I left work
to ensure that my family would have enough food to enjoy the Sabbath (Friday night/Saturday)
as well as the rest of the week.

This morning, we woke up to the news of a young Rabbi and his wife, who were tragically killed
by terrorists, but gave their lives for bringing light and hope to others. They themselves
suffered in their short time in this world having lost a child previously some time ago. They
have left a young boy, who has is about to celebrate his third birthday, without his parents
standing at his side. In religious Judaism, the third birthday of a boy, is the first entry into the
role that he is to play as a man in later years. In some cases (tradition) the parents will grow
his hair until he is 3 and out of nappies. Then at his birthday there will be a special ceremony
of cutting the first locks. This is likened to the sapling of a tree, that is left to grow freely
till of age that we begin to trim and shape its growth.

A few months ago, in another tragic terrorist happening in Jerusalem, a young mother, in a car
near the busy market this Capital city, was about to be crushed by a tractor, in a moment of
clarity, that is so hard to fathom, but just wonder at her bravery, threw her young child out
of the window of her car, on to the road, in the hope that he would be saved and thankfully was,
even though his poor mother perished.

Today, as we stand in a moment of silence for the fallen, of all walks of life, a an extra minute
should be given to all parents everywhere who have lost, or who have the ability to continue
to embrace their children and loved ones, for these young people, who were a beacon of light
for all of us, have been taken back before the Jewish festival of Hanuka (the 8 candle lighting
festival, to commemorate the saving of the everlasting light of oil in the Jewish Temple), to be
the candles to light up the Menorah (candelabra of the holiday) in Heaven and continue to
shine their message of love and hope from afar. May they be blessed and remembered.

A City By No Other Name......

We all know the expression, 'a flower by.....smells as sweet' but this too can be said of a city, such as Jerusalem. For all its glory it has like any other city, downsides, as in the never ending
'light railway' system or traffic congestion difficulties. Nevertheless, for all that, this city is like
no other, for all its large size, it is still a small village at heart.

Daily I try to take a walk/hobble out of my house, up the neighborhood staircase, on to the
main street of the area and off on to do my errands of the day. There is not a time that I am
not approached by a well wisher, who sees my limited ability and stop to wish me 'a speedy
recovery' or asks as to my welfare or even at times offers to help me with a shopping bag
(excluding the garbage ones!), but yesterday it reached an all high, when a smart looking car
pulls up beside me, driven by a young man in his twenties, with an equally young lady sitting
by his side and lowers down his window and asks "can I help you with a lift anywhere, nowhere
is too much trouble".

To say I was gobsmacked is not enough of a visual expression, but I was both touched and
overwhelmed by his offer and could all but do to stutter my thanks and decline out. I refused
not out of fear, but because I needed my daily exercise, but was delighted though at his thoughtful offer.

Yesterday, as on other days, I meet the regular haunters of Jerusalem, the shop keepers,
shoppers, coffee drinkers, tourists and day trippers. Each day is an adventure of seeing new
faces as they pass you by. Walking in Jerusalem is a most pleasurable experience, for it is the
one city that you can almost be 99% positive that you will meet someone you know on your
expedition and this in turn could delay your trip by quite some time.

Debating as to whether to buy some food shopping or not, it is extremely hard not to be pulled
in by all the delectable smells that whiff past your nose as you make your way along the streets.
There are the bakeries, with their delicious baking smells, mingled with Cinnamon, chocolate and
jam that tantalize you at first; further along are the aromatic smells of spices, over shadowed
by the deep fat frying smell of oil, as the falafel balls are prepared. The 'shwarma' (meat on a
large spit) is next and as you take a glance at this over sized meat punching bag, the crispy bits
tempt you with their wink as they turn around away from your gaze.
a
Further down the street, there is the butcher, but not displaying his slain wares outside,
instead a view of roasting chickens meats your eyes and the delicious whiff of what is yet to
come tantalizes your palette. But I restrain all these temptations and continue along my way,
saving my pennies for another day, but just enjoying the glorious winter sunshine and the other
pedestrians or cafe sitters and passer bye rs as they too enjoy the friendly warm atmosphere
and smells of this wonderful city, Jerusalem.

A Heartfelt Proposal

When one stands in an airport, train station or hotel, we tend to watch and look at the people
around us, but when they do it back, we feel offended and discomfort. This is particularly
noticeable in China, for anyone who is foreign is a novelty and something to be looked at. There
we see beautiful girls going around in microscopic mini skirts, but no one even takes a glance at
them, only the foreigners, but they in turn start at us whilst the smirk and even laugh at times
too.

So here I am in the hotel, feeling a little silly and vulnerable as I try to move myself in and out
of my corner corridor room.; again I am being watched, as there are security cameras
positioned along the hallways. I try to stick to a daily routine and have a regular time that I go
down to breakfast. I choose a position in the mostly empty dining room, that is as far away as
possible from prying eyes, with my chair facing the doorway as to see the coming and goings of
the other guests. The place is deep inside, close enough to the buffet, but far enough for privacy.

Making sure to take supplies for lunch or supper, I would wheel myself out to the lounge, where
I would exit out to the small balcony to get my daily dosage of sun (vitamin D). Then I would
sit a while inside too, chatting to the other guests or the couple that owned the small gift shop
that was stationed there.

In a hotel such as this, that has also apartment style rooms, there are those who come and
stay for a month or so and in turn become permanent fixtures, as I myself did, in the hotel
daily life. There was me, temporarily en cast in plaster and attached to a wheelchair, but there
were the others.

There was the elderly American woman, who would every morning, almost to the dot, come
down to the front desk and argue about a charge that had been added the previous day to her
bill. This argument would ensure heatedly until a placated guest would inevitably get her own
way and the offending figure removed, whether she had actually taken something that needed
to be paid for or not!

Then there was the English speaking gent, who's country of origin was impossible to decipher
as his language was so unclear, it was impossible to understand a word he said, but one would
sit there politely nodding till it reached the point of no return and I would beg my apologies and
wheel myself off to another position, out of sight.

Lastly there was the 'man'. To my surprise I seemed to still have been able to catch an eye and
for a number of mornings, was pursued by an ardent suitor. His years were more than mine
by twenty odd, but admittedly he looked still good for his age, with a full head of hair, sprightly
body and passionate drive! The first morning he sat down at my table and invited me to a free
breakfast coffee. His interest was apparent and intent as he proceeded to tell me how I looked
wonderful in his eyes, that he was on the search for a wife and continued in the same breath to
tell me of his property and assets!!

At first I just laughed and told him that I was unavailable but flattered, but his insistence
continued for the next few days, so reaching the point that I arranged to meet him and give him
my answer on the day that I knew I would no longer be staying at the hotel!! Oh well, maybe
I lost my chance of a large house in the outskirts of Jerusalem, a 'passionate' partner and the
opportunity to be wined and dined!! but somehow I don't think so, it was probably more a
case of a lucky escape, but I do wish him luck in his further propositions.