There are many beautiful things about living in Israel. The plumbing unfortunately, is not one of them. In the oldest neighborhoods of Jerusalem neighborhoods, like the Old City, or Nachlaot, both which were built before indoor plumbing was the norm, you come to expect certain…issues. Many apartments I have been in in Nachlaot have the kitchen and bathroom on the porch, because in that historically poor neighborhood it was cheaper to add on than reconfigure to house to accommodate pipes.
But now I live in Rehavia, Nachloat’s adjoining, more affluent brother neighborhood. I’ve moved on up since the homeless, jobless state ck discovered me in on Har Habayit.
Rehavia, with streets named for poets and sages of the Golden Era in Spain, designed with green-spaces in mind, tree lined streets and proper trash receptacles that get picked up with alarming frequency is, for all intents and purposes, considered a nice neighborhood.
So why, oh why is there raw sewage sitting outside my bathroom window making the room smell like it was enveloped by a giant rancid ass, mixed with dead fish and rotting corpses, served on a bed of carrion left in the sun, with a side of month-old counter-top milk.
And I wish I was exaggerating.
Apparently there was some kind of plumbing problem in the building, we noticed because our toilet didn’t flush so much as just add more water to dilute anything that might be in there. Maintenance men were called and they attacked the sewage pipe running right through our back yard with the professional, hi-tech instruments of a water hose and long stick.
However, they seem to have forgotten to deal with the gigantic puddle of ass mud which is still sitting just below the aforementioned bathroom window of the otherwise lovely Chateau Laybecca.
I’ve sterilized the toothbrushes and moved them to the kitchen but every time I reluctantly go into the bathroom to pee the noxious fumes cause me to gag and cough and fight the urge to hurl, knowing that that would just add to to the overall smell.
I’ve resorted to my hippy past and have been burning incense and scented oils in there around the clock, but the best it gets to is rotting vanilla ass.
So, eh…maybe Shabbat dinner at my place isn’t the best idea this week.