we went into ‘east village-esqe’ stores and saw the same American styles as back home. nothing fit my fat ass so it was a short shopping experience. towards the end, we went into a flower shop to buy a card for her friend’s boyfriend’s birthday and i told her that i just can’t wait until my shipment of stuff comes into port so that i can have my vases and put flowers in them for our home. she said “we are like family now. anything you need you ask me and i will give to you.” her arm was around my waist and her smile so warm. At the corner of herzl street three TEN-year old boys hit on me. “The english are so beautiful” “I’m NOT English!” i told Dana, my translator “and besides,” i fumed “tell them how old i am!!!” an old man pretending to talk he-English (Hebrew-English) said he liked my hair. “ignore him” Dana said protectively. She would also yell at me to not cross the street before there was a green sign. “yes mommy” i sulked as she pulled me back by my backpack.
on friday afternoons everyone does their shopping because everything is closed on Friday night thru saturday for shabbat. tsafi says that at the souq (shoook aka flea market) you can’t even move on Friday mornings.