The Toilet Situation in Israel

With 3rd world-like countries surrounding Israel, I was wondering about the availability of many conveniences Americans take for granted.  One of them being the toilet.  Would you not be able to flush down the toilet paper and have to put it in a nearby garbage can like in Mexico? Would toilets even flush here?  There could be holes in the floor that connect to the sewer system like what is found in many countries in this region of the world.

Whew!  Israel has toilets that you can sit on comfortably and flush everything down including toilet paper. However, they are different than the US, and at first are a bit disconcerting.  The toilets here are low-flush with very little water, which makes sense because Israel needs to conserve water in a big way.  In the US the toilet flush makes a noise like Ker-plush-Shhhhhhhhhhh.  In Israel, it’s more like Kerp-trickle, trickle, trickle.  That’s worrisome because you think maybe it’s not all going to go away, especially if you have a big load in there…you know what I mean.  In spite of the low amount of water — so far anyway — everything has been going down.

Many US toilets in public places like malls or airports have that handle thing you can flush with your foot or automatic flush.  At the Ben Gurion Airport, the low-flush toilets had a pedal thing to push.  At our apartment, the low-flow toilet flushes by pushing down on metal button.

In a couple of cafes we’ve been to, the toilet situation is quite interesting.  You have a men’s room in a very small space with only a toilet, and nearby a woman’s room in a very small space also with only a toilet. Outside the “toilet room” is a nice sink for both men and women to wash their hands. Even though both men and women share a sink, the good news is that the sink is outside the toilet area and you don’t have to open any doors after washing your hands and possibly recontaminate them.

So far, that’s the toilet situation in Israel.  Outlying areas or places with antiquities could be a lot different.  I’ll keep you updated with any new toilet info.

Haifa, Israel: the first 24 hours

After two full nights of zero sleep and flying half-way around the world we were exhausted.  We just fell into bed and slept.  I was sure in a new bed in a strange place, I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but fell asleep immediately after that thought.

Our temporary quarters are small and colorless.  The walls are off-white, the tiles floors are off-white, and the couch is off-white.  The window looks across a small walkway to another apartment building that is built of off-white concrete.  The neighborhood consist of buildings that in the US would be called tenements. What you don’t see is graffiti, and you don’t hear cars going by with the stereo booming — you hear children outside playing and singing.

We got up the next morning and unpacked a few things then went on a search for food.  We didn’t know where to go and ended up walking forever until we finally found a place to eat.  In the US, you walk down the street and smile and acknowledge people you pass.  Here, they don’t do that.  They just ignore each other.  But last night, the taxi driver and his, “Slee-chah,” showed us you can go up to anybody and ask a question.

I know enough to say in Hebrew, “Do you speak English?” I can also say in Hebrew, “Where restaurant?” Based on pointing we eventually found a place to eat.  The food here is so much better than in the US.  The water tastes kind of funny — although it has been declared safe to drink in all of Israel except at the Dead Sea — but the food so far has been really good.

After lunch, we found a grocery market, extremely small by American standards, with both unfamiliar familiar brands of packaged and canned foods all with Hebrew writing.  Some had both Hebrew and English, but most were strictly Hebrew and we relied on pictures.  We found a roasted chicken like what might be at Raley’s and bought one of those for 43 shekels.  It’s a good thing we did, because we didn’t realize until we got back home that the apartment doesn’t have an oven.  What’s more, we can’t figure out how to turn on the stove.  It’s gas, and I don’t think the gas is on to the apartment.

Talk about irony, on the way home we saw all kinds of corner markets and little places to eat all very close to where we are staying.  But when we were hungry, couldn’t find a thing, until we asked several people and walked for over an hour.  Also, on the way home I had my first culture shock that I’m still trying to process.