Cucumbers Revisited; Dieters, Rejoice!

The third night of Chanukah

More family arrived late tonight: my dad and Benjy and Daniel; Grandma and Grandpa; aunt Leslie and her son Simon; and my mom’s cousin Nancy and her daughter Lisa. One reason I start with this is because my father always says that one of the best parts of Israel is the breakfast. After nearly five months in this country, I would like to correct that erroneous assumption: the Israeli hotel breakfasts are good. The average Israeli breakfast is just okay, and oftentimes repetitive.

While we’re on the subject of food, another comment: as people are seeing me for the first time in a while, such as my grandparents, they are commenting on how thin I look. A normal person would be flattered, but this is quite old hat for me now; I’ve been thin now for eighteen-plus years. Actually, without a scale, I have no idea if I’ve gained or lost poundage. Even Josh Tal’s mother, visiting the yeshiva a few weeks ago, complimented me on how much weight I’d lost, a surprising statement from someone I had not previously met.

Nevertheless, this got me thinking. If I’m looking (even) better after eating at Ma’aleh Gilboa, shouldn’t everyone be entitled to the same good looks? Why can’t I market the secret of YMG? It’s not the Torah, the mentality, the location— it’s the diet! Atkins, South Beach, the Zone, and introducing… Yoni Bain’s Gilboa Diet! Cucumbers twice daily, plenty of cottage cheese and tomatoes and olives, low carbs, a meaty Israeli lunch (not to mention a five minute uphill walk four or five times daily)— why shouldn’t this work?

Earlier today we visited this Biblical museum. On display were artifacts from all the ancient civilizations who ruled Israel until the Crusades. Though there were some interesting spears, paintings, and urns, the novelty of antiquity wore off rather quickly, especially to the little kids.

To contrast with the silence of climate-controlled cases, our next stop, for lunch, was the famous Malcha mall. We planned on seeing “King Kong,” but at the last moment, everyone backed down from seeing the three hour epic. I also bought a really cool hackeysack, to play with in the Beit Midrash when I return. Some of the guys have Slinkies, but they always get tangled. The hackeysack should be cooler. I’m looking forward to throwing it across the Beit Midrash in the middle of a shiur when the rabbi isn’t looking.

Now, what is up with taxi drivers? Especially these Israeli ones. A lot of them will try and scam you if you’re not paying attention. For example, tonight we entered a taxi to get a ride to a restaurant called Sima. We asked him how much it would cost. “Thirty,” he responds. Not a chance, I say. Twenty. We argue back and forth until we decide to put the meter on. Let the all-powerful taxi meter decide.

As we pull up to the curb of the restaurant, the meter clicks to 19.30 shekels. I think I have triumphed. Not so fast. The cabbie pushes a few magic buttons, and the 19.30 turns to 23.90. I don’t know what he did or where that 4.60 came from. I didn’t ask; these guys can be totally sleazy. Either way, the total was still closer to 20 than 30. And definitely no tip. Whatever.

Happy Holidays.