fridays -- aka "erev shabbat"

Fridays are a whole different kettle of fish in this country.

It starts with the fact that the majority of employed people (office types, anyway) don't work on Friday. This is their Saturday, as it were. And yet so NOT Saturday. The kids are off to school, but for an hour or two less than regular weekdays (Sunday to Thursday). That means that parents can do the errands or shopping they haven't had time to do all week, and often squeeze in a couple of hours doing brunch at one of the local restaurants, which make most of their nut providing this on Friday mornings; it's the one time of the week when reservations will be needed.

Almost all stores will close by around 2:30 p.m., at least until the sun goes down Saturday, but usually until Sunday morning. "Shabbat" -- late Friday afternoon (sundown, officially) until sundown Saturday -- means almost nowhere to buy groceries or do other kinds of shopping, fewer places to go out to eat, and any open places of entertainment -- especially free ones -- crowded to the gills.

So we rush to fit everything in by 1 p.m., when we need to pick up the kid from school. (Other days, she finishes at 2:30.) The rest of the day is spent recovering from the high pressure of the morning. People often sit around reading their 10-pound newspapers -- there are two major dailies, and the Friday edition is as big as Toronto's Saturday Star, but with fewer throwaway sections; thank god there are finally newspaper recycling depots in Raanana (a new development). Or they take a nap.

But what to do Friday evening? That's always the big, boring question for us, as we usually have nothing to do, and no energy to make anything happen. But all around us, it seems other people are having guests over, proper erev-Shabbat (Friday night) meals with table cloths, candles, and of course roast chicken. It's warm out and everyone's windows are open, and we can hear them from our balcony. We aren't into all that bother, yet there's kind of an emptiness too, not having anything meaningful planned. I wouldn't care so much for myself, being kind of a loner by nature, but I feel my 12-year-old daughter is missing out on some of the rich potential. We'll see my in-laws in Tel Aviv on Saturday, more than likely eat lunch with them. Otherwise, there is no family here. Most people have tons of family to be with, and go whether they want to or not.

We really need to build a network of friends. We're too isolated.