Tales of a migrant worker....

So, there are very few jobs that I have permission to do here in Israel. The only way that I can LEGALLY do a job is if I am partnered with an Israeli and go through an intensive process to prove that I live with them, become a Jew, or find an organization that thinks I'm SO VALUABLE that they want to hire me despite the fact that I am not Jewish, and so they apply for my work visa.

Here is the reality: it is probably not the case that I am valuable enough to a company that they will want to get me a working visa. I am not a software developer or an engineer. I do not have sales experience... It may be the case that I am devaluing myself unnecessarily, but I just don't think I have what they're looking for and I don't know how to find out which jobs are even open to non-Jews in need of visas.

SO... the past week of my life looked like this:

Saturday: Sudden panic. I need a job to sustain this lifestyle!

Sunday: A trip to the local hotels proved that most places will not hire me without a work permit. extensive online research proves that I do not seem to be qualified for a work permit. I called an awesome man that i met on the airplane who taught me Hebrew and owns a cafe. He didn't pick up. I went for a LONG walk and contemplated life and kicked my own proverbial heels, reminding myself not to "get down."
Night-time included a delicious meal at mom's house and the late-night concert scene. Returned with a drunken smile at 4am.

Monday: My cell phone is ringing and I ignore it. It rings again. I realize that it's 12:30pm. I force myself up in a daze and look at my cell phone. Unrecognized number. Who the hell is calling me in Israel that I don't know? I answer. It's Amnon the cafe owner offering me a job!
Adam and I trek to the cafe... which turns out to be an hour bus-ride away. I will not be deterred. We have a delicious lunch and head home to create English tutoring and editing fliers (see below for sample).

Tuesday: My first day at the cafe. I wake up at 7am. Have a call with a client in the states. Eat breakfast, prepare for work, head out at 8:15. Get off the bus early and walk along an inSANE highway, running across streets and hoping I'm headed in the right direction. I find the cafe and work: cooking, cleaning, dish-washing, and attempting to take orders in Hebrew for 5 hours. I leave, exhausted, and get back on the bus. Miss the bus-stop in Tel Aviv. Walk 2 miles home. trip: 1 hour, 20 minutes. I sleep for 2 hours.

Wednesday: I didn't sleep well the night before. My stomach hurt. In fact, I could hardly fall asleep. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to go to the cafe. I did it. I almost missed the bus. I RaN for 2.5 blocks to catch it. An hour later, I was at the cafe at the cafe. I worked, slowly and disoriented. I went to the bathroom. My sickness became a reality. I said that I needed to leave. He asked me to stay. I tried. I went to the bathroom. I could barely stand. After another hour he bid me farewell and I walked to the bus stop, making 4 stops along the 10 minute walk to regain my strength. I got home. I slept for 5 hours.

Thursday: I did not leave the house. I laid down, intermittently sleeping and cleaning out the 10,000 unread messages from my g-mail inbox. In the end, I was successful in completing a task that I'd been swearing to accomplish for 6 years. And I was miserable. SO... there was only one thing left to do: buy a laxative.
This may seem like too much information, but its the only way to explain that I have not experienced Tel Aviv, really, for the majority of this week.

But, thank you senna!!! I finally got out of the house today!!! :-D
(Awesome movies including biking in tel aviv and graffiti in the florentine district soon to come!)

English Editing Poster: