I found it very humbling to attempt a Hebrew conversation with (almost) three-year-old Zeev on our Shabbat eve visit to the home of Atar and her husband Gil in Kfar Vitkin last week. Up until this point I had mainly been honing my Hebrew language skills with shopkeepers and bus drivers, not very elaborate exchanges. Now I was confronted with a loquacious tot who expected me to keep up with his ongoing flow of commentary about the new book we had just given him, Richard Scarry’s Big Schoolhouse Book. As we sat together on the couch with the book open across our laps, he shared his excitement in a stream of words, only a small portion of which could I comprehend. Like Charlie Brown listening to the words of his teacher, I heard “wah,wah, wah, wah…..” and then “nachon?” (correct). Of course, I would have been an idiot not to agree, “nachon!” My only other contribution to this conversation was, “Ma Ze?” (what’s this) as I pointed to the picture of the monkey driving the banana-mobile or the fox flooding the classroom with water from the garden hose. It’s a good thing Lew and I have signed up for twice-weekly Hebrew classes at Gordon Ulpan in Tel Aviv. Perhaps I will learn more words for fish, other than salmon-- pronounced something like “saulmoan” in Hebrew-- so I will be able to buy other varieties at the fish store. Or maybe the mystery of the Beseq phone tree will finally be revealed. On our many calls to get help with the internet service I have cycled through the choices on the recorded message over and over, grasping for clues about whether I should “menakesh” (press) shtayim (2) or arba (4) followed by the “sulamit” (little ladder, i.e. the pound key) to get to an actual person. When I am successful, usually by pressing 2 at every choice point, my first question is, “Atah Medaber Anglit? – Do you speak English?” For some reason the only language choices offered for this exercise in frustration are Hebrew, Arabic, and Russian. I’m not sure, however, whether mastering sufficient Hebrew will help us deal with the Byzantine world of Beseq. With four different responses for every inquiry, the best technique seems to be to ask until you get the answer you want in whatever language.
To assess our level for Hebrew classes, Lew and I made our way to Ulpan Gordon one Sunday evening to take a test with a roomful of aspiring Hebrew speakers, mostly young, from all over the world---Turkey, France, U.S., Eastern Europe and China. I chose the level one/two test and, since we were told to “try really hard”, I patiently waded through the questions (written without vowel markings!) and answered or guessed to the best of my ability. The best of my ability turned out to be Aleph Ploos (First Level Plus), as evaluated by a very kind young woman who glanced for two minutes at my paper and conducted a short oral interview with me in Hebrew about where I had studied, where I lived, and what work I did. I struggled to explain that I had studied Hebrew at university a long time ago (!). She could probably tell it had been awhile because she announced that, “You know something, but it’s not systematic.” No kidding. That’s pretty much echoed what my instructor in college said, “It’s there but you need to let it come out.” My first class is this coming Sunday. I’m eager to meet Edna, my teacher, and the other students and to get more practice thinking/speaking on my feet in Hebrew.
Just as I finished writing the last sentence above, the doorbell rang. This rare event usually produces a moment of panic for me as I wonder if I will be able to respond appropriately to the visitor. I opened the door to find a young boy of about 10 smiling hopefully and holding a small coupon or receipt book. He rattled off a barrage of words that ended with a question. “Lo Mevena,” (I don’t understand) I replied. Luckily, my neighbor opened her door to see what was going on and was able to help out. She asked with surprise, “You don’t speak Hebrew?” I had to confess that I only knew kzat (a little). Between her limited English and my limited Hebrew she managed to convey that the boy was collecting money to benefit kids with autism. I said, “Oh, tzedakah”, which is commonly used in the U.S. Jewish community to refer to doing a righteous act by giving your time or money to help others, but she said no it was “truma,” meaning contribution or offering. Lew and I are curious about this distinction. Nevertheless,it sounded like a worthwhile cause so I told the boy, “rega” (wait a minute) and went to get 20 shekels (about $5.00). But I only had a 100 shekel bill and he didn’t have change so we had to get Tzipi to come up with some change and complete the transaction.
Gregory and I have been comparing notes via email about the travails of communicating in another language. I complained that I seem to have one space in my head for the “not English” language of the moment, whether it be Hebrew, Spanish, or French. If I’m hearing one of these repeatedly and then suddenly hear another (for example, listening to a group of women speaking Spanish on the bus to Jerusalem) the words get all shuffled together. Similarly, he reported running into two Israeli guys in his hostel in Cuzco and trying with limited success to recall his Hebrew vocabulary. He says that there are many Israeli travelers in Peru and that there are Hebrew language restaurant signs and menus and Israeli flags on the tourism offices. Like me, he’s finding it a challenge to avoid all the English speakers. Here's another peeve of mine: I get really mad when, after carefully sounding out something in Hebrew, it turns out to be an English word written in Hebrew letters--- Clean Shop (our local laundry), Aroma (a cafe), for example.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
To Haifa By Train
We’ve begun to pierce through the bubble of Tel Aviv to points beyond---Haifa, Jerusalem, Netanya and Kfar Vitkin. As our friend Atar’s husband Gil put it, “There’s the country of Tel Aviv and there’s the rest of the country.” To start the tour….
Recently I made my first solo trip by train to Haifa, departing from the station near the university for the hour-long ride up the coast. I checked the timetable and waited for the announcement of the train’s arrival on platform #1. A number of trains came and went near the expected departure time but I waited until I heard the right destination. Just to be sure, when I entered the train I looked for a friendly face and queried, “Haifa?” “Keyn” (yes), answered the solid looking older woman with gray hair, her gold teeth gleaming. She motioned me to take one of two open seats facing her across the table. The train started up and almost immediately her cellphone blasted the Torreodor Song from Carmen. She answered, “Da, Da” in Russian and continued to talk for a few minutes, a scene that was repeated periodically during the trip. Next to her sat a quiet young woman in jeans, while behind her lounged a gregarious group of young men listening to Arabic music and bantering alternatively in Hebrew and Arabic. One member of the group spent a good deal of time speaking in Arabic into the cell phone plastered to his ear beneath his hoodie. About half way through the trip he stood up and it was then that I noticed he was wearing army khakis and carrying a rifle. Possibly he was one of the many Druze youth who serve in the army traveling home to a village near Haifa. Across the aisle sat two young men in casual attire wearing kippot and in front of them two secular Israeli guys carried on a spirited exchange in Hebrew. A polyglot microcosm of Israeli society. There are three stops in Haifa. As we neared the first stop at Hof Carmel, across from the beautiful beach a forest of high rise buildings suddenly appeared sporting the logos of familiar high-tech companies- Microsoft, Siemens, Phillips, Google,etc. As the train pulled into in the port area hesitated slightly, wondering if this was the central Haifa HaShmona stop I needed. My Russian friend piped up, “Haifa, Haifa”, so I quickly made my way to the exit.
Arriving a bit early for my meeting at the Shatil offices, I wandered up and down HaAtzmaut (Independence), the main boulevard in the port area. The Shatil office is located on HaAtzmaut directly across from the train station in a building that also houses other social change organizations such as Economic Empowerment for Women and Mahut, a hotline and employment training project for women workers. Shatil, an empowerment center connected with the New Israel Fund, provides training and support for social change organizations in Israel. With branches throughout the country, they support projects that address human/civil rights, democracy, religious tolerance, women’s issues, socioeconomic equality and environmental justice and they promote coalition building to address these issues. I had an appointment with Liora Asa and Fathi Marshoud, the director of the Haifa office. Liora, a woman in her 40’s, wearing brown jeans with a flowered pattern and a colorful top, greeted me warmly with an Anglo accent. While we were waiting for Fathi to become available we started playing Jewish geography. It turns out we are connected by less than six degrees of separation. We discovered that Liora’s mother graduated from Hamilton High School in Los Angeles, my alma mater, eight years before me. And, she lived on the same street as my grandparents! Liora grew up in Fullerton (Orange County) where her father was the rabbi at the Reform synagogue. Like me, she also went to UC Berkeley for her undergraduate degree. It’s hard to beat that for coincidence. Liora and Fathi filled me in on the various projects or organizations they support or know about that are doing good work on sex trafficking, migrant workers’ rights, domestic abuse, women’s economic development and employment discrimination. Fathi and the director of the Jerusalem Shatil office are working on a proposal for a project to increase Arab women’s participation in the Israeli labor force. From Liora I got some good suggestions about folks to contact to see if they could use some volunteer help.
As we finished and I reached for the door handle to leave, it swung open and Elana Dorfman entered. A woman of my generation, she was a founder of the Battered Women’s hotline and shelter in Haifa, and more recently, started Mahut, a hotline and support project for women workers. She is a longtime member of Isha L’Isha (Woman to Woman) a pioneer feminist organization in Haifa. We hit it off immediately and found a lot of common interests. Serendipity struck when she remembered an online presentation on sex trafficking which she thought might be happening that afternoon. She invited me to return after lunch to participate in this online event.
I spent about an hour strolling through the nearby German Colony at the foot of the impressive Ba’hai Gardens that rise up the steep hill from the port. As I made my way back down Ben Gurion, a street lined with interesting looking restaurants, I spotted a sign in Hebrew in front of Fattoush, a restaurant with a lovely patio and appealing menu: “Forbidden to enter with weapons.” Although I supported this request, I didn’t have enough time to linger over my lunch so I enjoyed a toasted cheese and vegetable sandwich, Israeli salad and olives, and a cappuccino at a small café a few blocks from the Shatil office. I returned to Shatil where Elana and I signed in for the webinar on “The Jewish Response to Sex Trafficking,” organized by the Jewish Community Relations Council and the New York/Jerusalem Experts Exchange. The first speaker was Rita Chaikin, the Anti-Trafficking Project Coordinator at Isha L’Isha . She is a vibrant young woman who has been instrumental in raising public awareness and prodding the Israeli government to adopt policies to combat sex trafficking and assist victims. Sex trafficking had become a big problem here with Eastern European women being trafficked into Israel through Bedoin trade routes (guns and women are profitable commodities). Rita, the Israeli Women’s Network and a coalition of 15 NGO’s and human rights organizations began working on this issue over ten years ago in 1997. Finally in 2000 the government passed a law against trafficking for the purpose of prostitution, but only after a U.N. report put Israel in the third (worst) tier of countries for trafficking in persons. The situation has improved due to the coordinated effort of the women’s organizations and Isha L’Isha is still working to get more legal and financial assistance to the women who want to escape the business but fear deportation. They are also working with Eastern European organizations and consulates to facilitate safe return without deportation for those who want to go home. They want to make sure that the women have access to rehabilitation and compensation after they return home. Another big effort is being made to distribute leaflets in public places to make potential clients aware of how they can help the women and to ensure that punishment of traffickers is enforced. Currently the flow of women trafficked from Eastern European countries has declined but the traffickers have become more sophisticated and buy private apartments to reduce visibility. Also, there has been an increase in trafficking from China and trafficking of Israeli women within the country and to Europe. Rita’s presentation gave me a lot to think about.
I was glad I had the chance to meet Elana and hope to return to Haifa to visit with her and meet more folks from Isha L’Isha. The return trip to Tel Aviv on the train was uneventful except for the fact that I sat across from another Russian woman, this time blonde and middle aged, wearing an eye-catching pair of black leather pants with a design cut into them with alternate strips of see through material.
Recently I made my first solo trip by train to Haifa, departing from the station near the university for the hour-long ride up the coast. I checked the timetable and waited for the announcement of the train’s arrival on platform #1. A number of trains came and went near the expected departure time but I waited until I heard the right destination. Just to be sure, when I entered the train I looked for a friendly face and queried, “Haifa?” “Keyn” (yes), answered the solid looking older woman with gray hair, her gold teeth gleaming. She motioned me to take one of two open seats facing her across the table. The train started up and almost immediately her cellphone blasted the Torreodor Song from Carmen. She answered, “Da, Da” in Russian and continued to talk for a few minutes, a scene that was repeated periodically during the trip. Next to her sat a quiet young woman in jeans, while behind her lounged a gregarious group of young men listening to Arabic music and bantering alternatively in Hebrew and Arabic. One member of the group spent a good deal of time speaking in Arabic into the cell phone plastered to his ear beneath his hoodie. About half way through the trip he stood up and it was then that I noticed he was wearing army khakis and carrying a rifle. Possibly he was one of the many Druze youth who serve in the army traveling home to a village near Haifa. Across the aisle sat two young men in casual attire wearing kippot and in front of them two secular Israeli guys carried on a spirited exchange in Hebrew. A polyglot microcosm of Israeli society. There are three stops in Haifa. As we neared the first stop at Hof Carmel, across from the beautiful beach a forest of high rise buildings suddenly appeared sporting the logos of familiar high-tech companies- Microsoft, Siemens, Phillips, Google,etc. As the train pulled into in the port area hesitated slightly, wondering if this was the central Haifa HaShmona stop I needed. My Russian friend piped up, “Haifa, Haifa”, so I quickly made my way to the exit.
Arriving a bit early for my meeting at the Shatil offices, I wandered up and down HaAtzmaut (Independence), the main boulevard in the port area. The Shatil office is located on HaAtzmaut directly across from the train station in a building that also houses other social change organizations such as Economic Empowerment for Women and Mahut, a hotline and employment training project for women workers. Shatil, an empowerment center connected with the New Israel Fund, provides training and support for social change organizations in Israel. With branches throughout the country, they support projects that address human/civil rights, democracy, religious tolerance, women’s issues, socioeconomic equality and environmental justice and they promote coalition building to address these issues. I had an appointment with Liora Asa and Fathi Marshoud, the director of the Haifa office. Liora, a woman in her 40’s, wearing brown jeans with a flowered pattern and a colorful top, greeted me warmly with an Anglo accent. While we were waiting for Fathi to become available we started playing Jewish geography. It turns out we are connected by less than six degrees of separation. We discovered that Liora’s mother graduated from Hamilton High School in Los Angeles, my alma mater, eight years before me. And, she lived on the same street as my grandparents! Liora grew up in Fullerton (Orange County) where her father was the rabbi at the Reform synagogue. Like me, she also went to UC Berkeley for her undergraduate degree. It’s hard to beat that for coincidence. Liora and Fathi filled me in on the various projects or organizations they support or know about that are doing good work on sex trafficking, migrant workers’ rights, domestic abuse, women’s economic development and employment discrimination. Fathi and the director of the Jerusalem Shatil office are working on a proposal for a project to increase Arab women’s participation in the Israeli labor force. From Liora I got some good suggestions about folks to contact to see if they could use some volunteer help.
As we finished and I reached for the door handle to leave, it swung open and Elana Dorfman entered. A woman of my generation, she was a founder of the Battered Women’s hotline and shelter in Haifa, and more recently, started Mahut, a hotline and support project for women workers. She is a longtime member of Isha L’Isha (Woman to Woman) a pioneer feminist organization in Haifa. We hit it off immediately and found a lot of common interests. Serendipity struck when she remembered an online presentation on sex trafficking which she thought might be happening that afternoon. She invited me to return after lunch to participate in this online event.
I spent about an hour strolling through the nearby German Colony at the foot of the impressive Ba’hai Gardens that rise up the steep hill from the port. As I made my way back down Ben Gurion, a street lined with interesting looking restaurants, I spotted a sign in Hebrew in front of Fattoush, a restaurant with a lovely patio and appealing menu: “Forbidden to enter with weapons.” Although I supported this request, I didn’t have enough time to linger over my lunch so I enjoyed a toasted cheese and vegetable sandwich, Israeli salad and olives, and a cappuccino at a small café a few blocks from the Shatil office. I returned to Shatil where Elana and I signed in for the webinar on “The Jewish Response to Sex Trafficking,” organized by the Jewish Community Relations Council and the New York/Jerusalem Experts Exchange. The first speaker was Rita Chaikin, the Anti-Trafficking Project Coordinator at Isha L’Isha . She is a vibrant young woman who has been instrumental in raising public awareness and prodding the Israeli government to adopt policies to combat sex trafficking and assist victims. Sex trafficking had become a big problem here with Eastern European women being trafficked into Israel through Bedoin trade routes (guns and women are profitable commodities). Rita, the Israeli Women’s Network and a coalition of 15 NGO’s and human rights organizations began working on this issue over ten years ago in 1997. Finally in 2000 the government passed a law against trafficking for the purpose of prostitution, but only after a U.N. report put Israel in the third (worst) tier of countries for trafficking in persons. The situation has improved due to the coordinated effort of the women’s organizations and Isha L’Isha is still working to get more legal and financial assistance to the women who want to escape the business but fear deportation. They are also working with Eastern European organizations and consulates to facilitate safe return without deportation for those who want to go home. They want to make sure that the women have access to rehabilitation and compensation after they return home. Another big effort is being made to distribute leaflets in public places to make potential clients aware of how they can help the women and to ensure that punishment of traffickers is enforced. Currently the flow of women trafficked from Eastern European countries has declined but the traffickers have become more sophisticated and buy private apartments to reduce visibility. Also, there has been an increase in trafficking from China and trafficking of Israeli women within the country and to Europe. Rita’s presentation gave me a lot to think about.
I was glad I had the chance to meet Elana and hope to return to Haifa to visit with her and meet more folks from Isha L’Isha. The return trip to Tel Aviv on the train was uneventful except for the fact that I sat across from another Russian woman, this time blonde and middle aged, wearing an eye-catching pair of black leather pants with a design cut into them with alternate strips of see through material.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Write Stuff
I just finished reading a classic, if rather quirky, book. If You Want to Write: A Book About Art, Independence and Spirit, was originally published in 1938 and reissued in 1983, two years before the author died at the age of 93. According to the inside notes, the author, Brenda Ueland, was born at the turn of the century in Minneapolis to a lawyer father and suffragist mother. She spent some time in New York hanging out with the bohemian crowd in Greenwich Village before returning to the Midwest to write, edit, and teach. There are two great pictures of her on the inside cover. The photo from 1938 (age 47) shows her from the side in an austere suit jacket and plain white blouse, looking quite serious and yet dreamy as she gazes at some distant point. In the photo taken for the second edition (age 91) she's wearing a boldly stripped jacket with her bow tie askew and her hair rather wild as she looks directly into the camera with a quizzical half-smile on her face. It looks like a lot of living went on between those two pictures. The book is an odd mix of spiritual, feminist, and practical insights about the personal value of expressing one’s divine creativity through writing. Her main point is that, “everybody is talented because everybody who is human has something to express.” She believed that everybody has something original to say if he/she speaks the truth from his/her true inner self. She encouraged her students to get out of their own way and write what they knew and felt without laboring over the words. She was a big advocate of “living in the present moment”, long walks and making time for solitude, all of which she felt opened one up to creativity. She urged women to avoid being consumed by attention to housework and catering to everyone else’s needs. Sounds very modern! I wonder what Brenda Ueland would think of blogging if she were alive today?
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Images, Buildings, and Names
With all due respect to Garrison Keillor, it has not been a quiet few weeks in eretz (land) war-be-gone. We have been very busy, continuing to soak in the sights, sounds, and smells of Tel Aviv and branching out by bus and train to Jerusalem (both of us) and Haifa (me).
Last week we made a Shabbat afternoon excursion to the Tel Aviv Art museum which houses an extensive permanent collection of impressionist and post-impressionist art donated by a Jewish Swiss family. Two special exhibits were also on display. “Art at Home, the Home as Art,” featured mixed media by Israeli and international artists, including a fabulous garden-themed bed designed by Max Ernst and a beautiful modernist set of silverware incorporating design elements from the violin (the curves, f-holes and bridge). Also amazing were the tapestries by Agam and other artists with abstract and figurative motifs (scrolls, ladders) in vibrant colors. Another special exhibit, “The Mound of Things” showed the work of Tsibi Geva, a multi prize-winning artist who epitomizes mainstream Israeli taste (according to a critic writing in HaAretz). Canvases (some very large) from several of his themed series of paintings done over the last twenty years of terrazzo floors, birds, flower, keffiyeh (head covering) and abstract designs of backgammon boards, fences, and shutters or window grilles were arrayed around the perimeter of the gallery space. I could see that the paintings were trying to address issues about Israeli identity-- the land, nature, people, constructed habitats and the meanings with which Israelis have imbued these things--but the exhibit as a whole didn't move me. In the center of the gallery stood a formation of high wall built of grey concrete construction blocks in the shape of the Hebrew letter “het” (looks like a square with the bottom side open). The newspaper critic in HaAretz wrote that this was a pale echo of a stone wall by Sharon Keren and Gabi Klasmer shown at the Israel Museum in 1975 and built for the artists by Palestinian construction workers. Obviously, the artist was making a political reference with this current construction but his rendition of the wall wasn't particularly illuminating for me.
We had another opportunity to think about the cultural and historical construction of the country at the Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel) Museum. This museum consists of a number of exhibit pavilions scattered over a large park area near the university. We strolled through the grounds planted with native trees, plants, and herbs and viewed the somewhat quixotic collection of exhibits: a history of coinage from ancient to modern times; the history of postal service before and following statehood; ancient ceramics/ pottery; a judged show of contemporary clay works; artifacts and photos tracing Edmund Rothschild's travels to Palestine and his contribution to the building of several towns and the development of the wine industry in pre-state Israel; artifacts and tools from an excavation of a copper age site; old and modern glassworks; a collection of sundials; and, in the ethnography and culture pavilion, ritual and household objects from Jewish life around the world (menorahs, marriage contracts, Shabbat candlesticks, Kiddush cups, and a fabulous restored ark from an 18th century Italian synagogue) organized around the yearly cycle of holidays. Perhaps the most unusual display at this museum was in the "Song of Cement" exhibit. Outside the pavilion stood a cement mixer and inside, ranged around the walls, were photographs depicting the role of cement in building the state of Israel from the pioneer days to the present. In a small area to the rear behind a partial partition was a group of photos of the “separation” walls done by contemporary artists. These large color photos had more overtly political themes. Their inclusion created an interesting juxtaposition to the other black and white documentary photos and highlighted the tensions around the multiple meanings of “construction” in Israel.
This got me thinking about how certain versions of history and culture have become part of the physical reality of the country. In a previous message I jokingly suggested that Bavli sounds like Beverly, as in the “Beverly Hills of Tel Aviv”. What sacrilege! During a long walk in HaYarkon park, Nitzana, our landlady’s daughter, enlightened me about the meaning of Bavli and the derivation of the street names in the neighborhood. I had already noticed that many streets were called Rav (rabbi) so and so, as in Rav Toledano at our corner. Now it all became clear. Bavli refers to Babylonia, as in the Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli), and some of the streets are named after the scholars who contributed to this work. Other streets are named for the Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi), Sanhedrin (supreme court of ancient Israel) and Knesset Gadol (great assembly in ancient Jerusalem). All the major boulevards in Tel Aviv are named after men who were prominent in the history of the city and the state- Dizingoff (first mayor of Tel Aviv); Allenby (British general who led force that conquered Palestine), Ben Yehuda (reviver of Hebrew as a modern language), Rothschild (Jewish philanthropist and businessman) and a host of others.
Through the street names you can trace the history of Tel Aviv, the state of Israel, and the Jewish people. The significance of these names, however, is lost on some young Israelis, according to a recent article in the Jerusalem Post. In the seaside town of Netanya not far from Tel Aviv a local survey found a sample of the city’s teens to be woefully ignorant about the historical figures after whom a number of major streets are named. According to the Post, over one third of the 160 teens who took the survey thought that Rehov Dizengoff (Dizengoff St.) was named after Israel’s first shopping mall, the Dizengoff Center in Tel Aviv, rather than that city’s first mayor, Meir Dizengoff. More than half said Rehov Ramban was named after “a well-known hospital” in Haifa (Ramban Hospital) rather than the medieval scholar Rabbi Moshe Ben Nahman (Nahmanides). For Rehov Tel Hai, a street that has a lion statue to commemorate the 1920 battle at Tel Hai in which Joseph Trumpeldor and other Jewish fighters lost their lives, 75% of the teens chose the response, “a garden of statues which contains a famous statue of a lion.” Aghast at this ignorance about Jewish and modern Israeli history , a local councilman is calling for the city to put up signs to explain the history behind the names of the local streets. The city already put up about 30 signs on major streets but the councilman thinks these are insufficiently detailed and “an insult to the intelligence of residents.” He wants the city to reallocate the 500,00 NewIsraeli Shekels (about $125,00) currently earmarked for statues to put up "more respectable and prominent" signs. He said, “Those who do not know their past are likely to lose their future.” Wow! That statement opens up a can of worms. Whose past? What version of the past? To be continued……
Last week we made a Shabbat afternoon excursion to the Tel Aviv Art museum which houses an extensive permanent collection of impressionist and post-impressionist art donated by a Jewish Swiss family. Two special exhibits were also on display. “Art at Home, the Home as Art,” featured mixed media by Israeli and international artists, including a fabulous garden-themed bed designed by Max Ernst and a beautiful modernist set of silverware incorporating design elements from the violin (the curves, f-holes and bridge). Also amazing were the tapestries by Agam and other artists with abstract and figurative motifs (scrolls, ladders) in vibrant colors. Another special exhibit, “The Mound of Things” showed the work of Tsibi Geva, a multi prize-winning artist who epitomizes mainstream Israeli taste (according to a critic writing in HaAretz). Canvases (some very large) from several of his themed series of paintings done over the last twenty years of terrazzo floors, birds, flower, keffiyeh (head covering) and abstract designs of backgammon boards, fences, and shutters or window grilles were arrayed around the perimeter of the gallery space. I could see that the paintings were trying to address issues about Israeli identity-- the land, nature, people, constructed habitats and the meanings with which Israelis have imbued these things--but the exhibit as a whole didn't move me. In the center of the gallery stood a formation of high wall built of grey concrete construction blocks in the shape of the Hebrew letter “het” (looks like a square with the bottom side open). The newspaper critic in HaAretz wrote that this was a pale echo of a stone wall by Sharon Keren and Gabi Klasmer shown at the Israel Museum in 1975 and built for the artists by Palestinian construction workers. Obviously, the artist was making a political reference with this current construction but his rendition of the wall wasn't particularly illuminating for me.
We had another opportunity to think about the cultural and historical construction of the country at the Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel) Museum. This museum consists of a number of exhibit pavilions scattered over a large park area near the university. We strolled through the grounds planted with native trees, plants, and herbs and viewed the somewhat quixotic collection of exhibits: a history of coinage from ancient to modern times; the history of postal service before and following statehood; ancient ceramics/ pottery; a judged show of contemporary clay works; artifacts and photos tracing Edmund Rothschild's travels to Palestine and his contribution to the building of several towns and the development of the wine industry in pre-state Israel; artifacts and tools from an excavation of a copper age site; old and modern glassworks; a collection of sundials; and, in the ethnography and culture pavilion, ritual and household objects from Jewish life around the world (menorahs, marriage contracts, Shabbat candlesticks, Kiddush cups, and a fabulous restored ark from an 18th century Italian synagogue) organized around the yearly cycle of holidays. Perhaps the most unusual display at this museum was in the "Song of Cement" exhibit. Outside the pavilion stood a cement mixer and inside, ranged around the walls, were photographs depicting the role of cement in building the state of Israel from the pioneer days to the present. In a small area to the rear behind a partial partition was a group of photos of the “separation” walls done by contemporary artists. These large color photos had more overtly political themes. Their inclusion created an interesting juxtaposition to the other black and white documentary photos and highlighted the tensions around the multiple meanings of “construction” in Israel.
This got me thinking about how certain versions of history and culture have become part of the physical reality of the country. In a previous message I jokingly suggested that Bavli sounds like Beverly, as in the “Beverly Hills of Tel Aviv”. What sacrilege! During a long walk in HaYarkon park, Nitzana, our landlady’s daughter, enlightened me about the meaning of Bavli and the derivation of the street names in the neighborhood. I had already noticed that many streets were called Rav (rabbi) so and so, as in Rav Toledano at our corner. Now it all became clear. Bavli refers to Babylonia, as in the Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli), and some of the streets are named after the scholars who contributed to this work. Other streets are named for the Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi), Sanhedrin (supreme court of ancient Israel) and Knesset Gadol (great assembly in ancient Jerusalem). All the major boulevards in Tel Aviv are named after men who were prominent in the history of the city and the state- Dizingoff (first mayor of Tel Aviv); Allenby (British general who led force that conquered Palestine), Ben Yehuda (reviver of Hebrew as a modern language), Rothschild (Jewish philanthropist and businessman) and a host of others.
Through the street names you can trace the history of Tel Aviv, the state of Israel, and the Jewish people. The significance of these names, however, is lost on some young Israelis, according to a recent article in the Jerusalem Post. In the seaside town of Netanya not far from Tel Aviv a local survey found a sample of the city’s teens to be woefully ignorant about the historical figures after whom a number of major streets are named. According to the Post, over one third of the 160 teens who took the survey thought that Rehov Dizengoff (Dizengoff St.) was named after Israel’s first shopping mall, the Dizengoff Center in Tel Aviv, rather than that city’s first mayor, Meir Dizengoff. More than half said Rehov Ramban was named after “a well-known hospital” in Haifa (Ramban Hospital) rather than the medieval scholar Rabbi Moshe Ben Nahman (Nahmanides). For Rehov Tel Hai, a street that has a lion statue to commemorate the 1920 battle at Tel Hai in which Joseph Trumpeldor and other Jewish fighters lost their lives, 75% of the teens chose the response, “a garden of statues which contains a famous statue of a lion.” Aghast at this ignorance about Jewish and modern Israeli history , a local councilman is calling for the city to put up signs to explain the history behind the names of the local streets. The city already put up about 30 signs on major streets but the councilman thinks these are insufficiently detailed and “an insult to the intelligence of residents.” He wants the city to reallocate the 500,00 NewIsraeli Shekels (about $125,00) currently earmarked for statues to put up "more respectable and prominent" signs. He said, “Those who do not know their past are likely to lose their future.” Wow! That statement opens up a can of worms. Whose past? What version of the past? To be continued……
A New Week, A New Look
It’s Sunday, the first day of the week here in Israel. The weekend spans Friday afternoon through Saturday night, then it’s back to business as usual. It’s nice to have that little oasis of calm every week, however brief. The busses stop and the stores are closed, though some cafes and restaurants remain open. The art museum is open (with children’s activities making it a popular place for families) and there are concerts and other cultural activities as well. We see a lot of extended families together, especially on Shabbat, but also during the week when we see bubbes wheeling strollers or picking up children from school. Given that the birthrate is not so high here, we are seeing a surprising number of babies and, of course, they are all adorable. Some examples from friends and relatives have reinforced our impression that family is very important. For example, Atar lives in the small community where her husband grew up and his parents live nearby. Her father-in-law picks up her three year old from preschool and keeps him until she returns from work. Tsipi, our neighbor across the hall, frequently has her grandchildren and children traipsing in and out. Rekefet, the young assistant at Sheatufim, told Lew that she and her husband barely know how to cook because her mother-in-law brings them food constantly. When I told my cousin Ruthie that Gregory would be in Buenos Aires this semester and that Rachel lives in Washington, she laughed with disbelief in her voice and said, “that’s how it is in America,” which I assumed meant that we are all scattered to the winds (which of course we are at the moment). Meanwhile, for those who can afford it, many people depend on Filipino women for child and elder care. In the park we see groups of older people in wheel chairs with their Filipino caretakers, the Filipino women visiting amongst themselves while their charges socialize and enjoy the sunshine. Also on the subject of domestic help, Lew reported a conversation amongst the young women staffers the the office about difficulties getting their husbands to share the housework. They expressed a familiar mantra, “I tell him something needs to be done but he doesn’t see it!” After asking Lew for his suggestions (!), one of the women chimed in with the solution, “Get a Filipino.” I’m very curious about how this particular conduit for immigrant workers developed.
Meanwhile we continue to explore the city. I am in love with HaYarkon park where I can run or walk for miles past open expanses and through groves of eucalyptus, palms, and olive trees towering above emerald green carpets of grass and groundcover. In the distance rise the new high towers of the bustling city, seen especially well from a hill with an unobstructed panorama. The main path is helpfully divided into two lanes, one for bike riders/roller bladers and the other for pedestrians, though not everyone obeys the rules. Passing me are hand-holding couples, young and old, groups of kids—sometimes in their scout uniforms, joggers of every age, parents wheeling strollers, and pairs of walkers deep in conversation. I am particularly fond of two grey haired gentlemen, perhaps in their early sixties, I see in the late afternoon. They are wearing shorts with matching long sleeved white t-shirts and talking animatedly while vigorously striding along at a fast clip. I observe all this as I bop along to the Temptation and the Four Tops or mellow out with Thelonius Monk on my Ipod and life is grand.
Speaking of Ipods. I am listening to a beautifully read novel at the moment (available in print as well, of course). The book, “The Clothes on Their Backs,” was short-listed for the Man Booker prize last year. The author, Linda Grant, a 57 year old novelist and journalist, was born in Liverpool to Russian/Polish immigrants. This book, set in London in the 1970’s, tells the story of a young woman in her twenties who uncovers the secrets of her immigrant parents’ former lives in Hungary through her hidden contact with a disreputable uncle from whom her parents have attempted to shield her. I also recommend another of Grant’s novels, “When I Lived in Modern Times,” which takes place in Tel Aviv in the late 40’s and describes the early years of the state of Israel (I think this book received the Orange Prize). She also has written a travelogue about Tel Aviv, “The People on the Street,” which I haven’t read yet.
With the war in Gaza winding down, the elections here are heating up. During the conflict all campaigning was temporarily stopped but now its back to politics as usual. We are following the best we can by reading the newspapers (Ha’Aretz and Jerusalem Post in English; I have Ha’Aretz as my home page). Unfortunately, the more hardline Likkud party (Netanyahu) seems to be destined to win the most seats. Although we didn’t hear a great deal of dissent during the heat of the Cast Lead operation, we did read some interesting exchanges and editorials that raised issues about the efficacy and conduct of the Gaza operation. If you are interested, I recommend you check out the exchange between A.B. Yehoshua (contemporary Israeli novelist) and Gideon Levy (journalist), and additional editorials by David Grossman (another novelist) and the recent column by Levy (“Twilight Zone, The Next Step”, on the Ha’Aretz website. If you read these and the comments that are posted in response you will get a good idea of the tensions in the debate here. On his website www. Gregmargolis.com, Gregory has put some of his reflections on the issues with links to columns he has found thought-provoking.
No matter what your view, one can only be dismayed by the lack of vision in the leadership. Where are the young leaders? Atar, who previously directed a community development organization in Carmiel that promoted dialogue with the Israeli Arab population, was very unhappy that none of the speakers at the conference on civil society we attended mentioned anything about empathy for Palestian casualties while expressing the usual support for the troops. She says that some of her Arab friends from her previous job are reluctant to come to events sponsored by Sheatufim because they are afraid they will not be welcome, a situation which disturbs her. During the conflict, the government tried to ban Arab parties from the election but the Israeli courts said this was illegal. Tel Aviv feels like a bit of a bubble, away from the more in-your- face conflict in the south, Jerusalem and the West Bank, and the northern border. Yet, the entire perimeter of Tel Aviv University is encircled with fencing and there is controlled access through turnstiles and gates manned by security guards. Also, in the middle of the city, directly across the street from the cultural center of the city (the art museum and the opera/theater complex) and the a few blocks from the Tel Aviv medical center, is the fenced off compound which houses the headquarters of the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces).
Back to more mundane observations/experiences:
A message from me would be incomplete without some mention of food! On evening last week we were strolling down Dizengoff St. in the heart of the city when the most incredibly enticing aroma wafted our way. We were literally led by our noses to a small shop from which emerged a line of patiently waiting customers. In the window a young woman was rolling out dough, cutting it into strips, and linking these strips in a continuous chain around a cylinder with a long handle. After brushing these with what I assumed was butter, she put them in an oven. When finished and taken off the cylinders what emerged were beautiful hollow tubes of exquisite tasting pastry, some flavored with cinnamon, others with chocolate and halva or other goodies. Crispy, hot and chewy, this Hungarian rugelah is sensational! For a good description and some pictures, go to www.kurtosh. co.il. Of course, the best part of the story comes next. We were given our prize after waiting our turn, told to let it cool in the open bag and then transfer it to another plastic bag and tie it closed with a bit of ribbon we were given. We left the shop and decided to catch a bus home. As we were nearing our neighborhood we determined that the pastry tube had cooled sufficiently so we started to ease it out of one bag into the other one, trying not to crush it. In the middle of this delicate operation I happened to glance over to the window ledge where I saw an intrepid cockroach scouting his territory.
Luckily we completed our transfer without mishap and at that moment reached our stop and exited the bus. With any crumbs we left behind, I say to the cockroach, “B’tayavon” (good appetite!).
Finally, here is the story of my new look. I decided I needed my hair cut and the color refreshed. Strolling the streets I saw many, many small hair salons, some looking very fancy, others full of older ladies. Walking around I’ve noticed a lot of women with bright red hair, sometimes tinged with purple undertones and sometimes veering towards orange. I was pretty sure I didn’t want that look. At random I walked into Sharon Chen’s small place on Yehuda HaMaccabbi, the main business street near our neighborhood. Sharon, the young man who owns the salon took me in hand and, with the Israeli confidence I mentioned in my last installment, decided he knew exactly what I needed. His lovely tall blonde assistant (probably Russian) applied the rich, brown color (“not too dark, I pleaded”) and, after I agreed I wanted “short” hair but “not too weird,” he spent about 45 minutes meticulously sculpting my head, leaving me with about 1” of hair or less all around. Actually, I’m very happy with how it feels and how little care it takes! Take a look and let me know what you think. Also check out new pictures on flickr (www.com/photos/linda-lew).
On Wednesday I’m off to Haifa to meet the director and some other folks in the Haifa office of Shatil, the training and support branch of the New Israel Fund. They are going to introduce me to some of their projects and explore what organization might be able to use some volunteer assistance from me. Next week, we’ll be going to Jerusalem to visit my friend Ruth, with whom I was on ulpan as a teenager 44 years ago. She is a former journalist who also works for Shatil. She is particularly interested in the challenges facing Ethiopian immigrants in Israel. She has arranged for us to visit to a music and dance conservatory where she started a scholarship program to enable Ethiopian kids to attend. She is also raising money to enable Ethiopian high school students to join their classmates on a trip to Poland to learn about the Holocaust and she is making a film about the derivation of Ethiopian names. I will send two letters describing these endeavors. I’ll have more information after we spend time with her in Jerusalem.
Well, time to stop for now. It’s lunchtime and I’m starving. The huge chunk of manchego cheese I bought from a vendor in the middle of the fancy Azrieli shopping center with the beautiful atrium (why there? Don’t ask!) awaits me, as does the fresh pita we purchased on our return trip to the HaCarmel shuk.
Meanwhile we continue to explore the city. I am in love with HaYarkon park where I can run or walk for miles past open expanses and through groves of eucalyptus, palms, and olive trees towering above emerald green carpets of grass and groundcover. In the distance rise the new high towers of the bustling city, seen especially well from a hill with an unobstructed panorama. The main path is helpfully divided into two lanes, one for bike riders/roller bladers and the other for pedestrians, though not everyone obeys the rules. Passing me are hand-holding couples, young and old, groups of kids—sometimes in their scout uniforms, joggers of every age, parents wheeling strollers, and pairs of walkers deep in conversation. I am particularly fond of two grey haired gentlemen, perhaps in their early sixties, I see in the late afternoon. They are wearing shorts with matching long sleeved white t-shirts and talking animatedly while vigorously striding along at a fast clip. I observe all this as I bop along to the Temptation and the Four Tops or mellow out with Thelonius Monk on my Ipod and life is grand.
Speaking of Ipods. I am listening to a beautifully read novel at the moment (available in print as well, of course). The book, “The Clothes on Their Backs,” was short-listed for the Man Booker prize last year. The author, Linda Grant, a 57 year old novelist and journalist, was born in Liverpool to Russian/Polish immigrants. This book, set in London in the 1970’s, tells the story of a young woman in her twenties who uncovers the secrets of her immigrant parents’ former lives in Hungary through her hidden contact with a disreputable uncle from whom her parents have attempted to shield her. I also recommend another of Grant’s novels, “When I Lived in Modern Times,” which takes place in Tel Aviv in the late 40’s and describes the early years of the state of Israel (I think this book received the Orange Prize). She also has written a travelogue about Tel Aviv, “The People on the Street,” which I haven’t read yet.
With the war in Gaza winding down, the elections here are heating up. During the conflict all campaigning was temporarily stopped but now its back to politics as usual. We are following the best we can by reading the newspapers (Ha’Aretz and Jerusalem Post in English; I have Ha’Aretz as my home page). Unfortunately, the more hardline Likkud party (Netanyahu) seems to be destined to win the most seats. Although we didn’t hear a great deal of dissent during the heat of the Cast Lead operation, we did read some interesting exchanges and editorials that raised issues about the efficacy and conduct of the Gaza operation. If you are interested, I recommend you check out the exchange between A.B. Yehoshua (contemporary Israeli novelist) and Gideon Levy (journalist), and additional editorials by David Grossman (another novelist) and the recent column by Levy (“Twilight Zone, The Next Step”, on the Ha’Aretz website. If you read these and the comments that are posted in response you will get a good idea of the tensions in the debate here. On his website www. Gregmargolis.com, Gregory has put some of his reflections on the issues with links to columns he has found thought-provoking.
No matter what your view, one can only be dismayed by the lack of vision in the leadership. Where are the young leaders? Atar, who previously directed a community development organization in Carmiel that promoted dialogue with the Israeli Arab population, was very unhappy that none of the speakers at the conference on civil society we attended mentioned anything about empathy for Palestian casualties while expressing the usual support for the troops. She says that some of her Arab friends from her previous job are reluctant to come to events sponsored by Sheatufim because they are afraid they will not be welcome, a situation which disturbs her. During the conflict, the government tried to ban Arab parties from the election but the Israeli courts said this was illegal. Tel Aviv feels like a bit of a bubble, away from the more in-your- face conflict in the south, Jerusalem and the West Bank, and the northern border. Yet, the entire perimeter of Tel Aviv University is encircled with fencing and there is controlled access through turnstiles and gates manned by security guards. Also, in the middle of the city, directly across the street from the cultural center of the city (the art museum and the opera/theater complex) and the a few blocks from the Tel Aviv medical center, is the fenced off compound which houses the headquarters of the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces).
Back to more mundane observations/experiences:
A message from me would be incomplete without some mention of food! On evening last week we were strolling down Dizengoff St. in the heart of the city when the most incredibly enticing aroma wafted our way. We were literally led by our noses to a small shop from which emerged a line of patiently waiting customers. In the window a young woman was rolling out dough, cutting it into strips, and linking these strips in a continuous chain around a cylinder with a long handle. After brushing these with what I assumed was butter, she put them in an oven. When finished and taken off the cylinders what emerged were beautiful hollow tubes of exquisite tasting pastry, some flavored with cinnamon, others with chocolate and halva or other goodies. Crispy, hot and chewy, this Hungarian rugelah is sensational! For a good description and some pictures, go to www.kurtosh. co.il. Of course, the best part of the story comes next. We were given our prize after waiting our turn, told to let it cool in the open bag and then transfer it to another plastic bag and tie it closed with a bit of ribbon we were given. We left the shop and decided to catch a bus home. As we were nearing our neighborhood we determined that the pastry tube had cooled sufficiently so we started to ease it out of one bag into the other one, trying not to crush it. In the middle of this delicate operation I happened to glance over to the window ledge where I saw an intrepid cockroach scouting his territory.
Luckily we completed our transfer without mishap and at that moment reached our stop and exited the bus. With any crumbs we left behind, I say to the cockroach, “B’tayavon” (good appetite!).
Finally, here is the story of my new look. I decided I needed my hair cut and the color refreshed. Strolling the streets I saw many, many small hair salons, some looking very fancy, others full of older ladies. Walking around I’ve noticed a lot of women with bright red hair, sometimes tinged with purple undertones and sometimes veering towards orange. I was pretty sure I didn’t want that look. At random I walked into Sharon Chen’s small place on Yehuda HaMaccabbi, the main business street near our neighborhood. Sharon, the young man who owns the salon took me in hand and, with the Israeli confidence I mentioned in my last installment, decided he knew exactly what I needed. His lovely tall blonde assistant (probably Russian) applied the rich, brown color (“not too dark, I pleaded”) and, after I agreed I wanted “short” hair but “not too weird,” he spent about 45 minutes meticulously sculpting my head, leaving me with about 1” of hair or less all around. Actually, I’m very happy with how it feels and how little care it takes! Take a look and let me know what you think. Also check out new pictures on flickr (www.com/photos/linda-lew).
On Wednesday I’m off to Haifa to meet the director and some other folks in the Haifa office of Shatil, the training and support branch of the New Israel Fund. They are going to introduce me to some of their projects and explore what organization might be able to use some volunteer assistance from me. Next week, we’ll be going to Jerusalem to visit my friend Ruth, with whom I was on ulpan as a teenager 44 years ago. She is a former journalist who also works for Shatil. She is particularly interested in the challenges facing Ethiopian immigrants in Israel. She has arranged for us to visit to a music and dance conservatory where she started a scholarship program to enable Ethiopian kids to attend. She is also raising money to enable Ethiopian high school students to join their classmates on a trip to Poland to learn about the Holocaust and she is making a film about the derivation of Ethiopian names. I will send two letters describing these endeavors. I’ll have more information after we spend time with her in Jerusalem.
Well, time to stop for now. It’s lunchtime and I’m starving. The huge chunk of manchego cheese I bought from a vendor in the middle of the fancy Azrieli shopping center with the beautiful atrium (why there? Don’t ask!) awaits me, as does the fresh pita we purchased on our return trip to the HaCarmel shuk.
Further Adventures
So much to tell, so little time. Lew and I are “sharing” internet access and need to switch the modem cable from one computer to the other when we want to work on our individual laptops (oy!). Also our connection is somewhat less than high speed (another oy!). Both Lew and our landlady have spent hours on the phone with the internet and phone company trying to get the services installed and the billing switched to our credit card. At one point the landlady spent so much time on hold with the phone company that the battery on her cell phone began to die. She redialed on our cell phone and was sitting at our dining table with a cell phone at each ear, one ear on hold waiting to complete the transaction that she had spent a half hour negotiating and the other ear on hold to restart the whole process! I learned a lot of Hebrew during this hour and a half marathon because she repeated her story at least a dozen times. The best part was listening to her spell “Lewis Margolis” in English letters because there is no “w” sound in Hebrew (his name comes out sounding more like Louise). When the technician came to adjust the internet connection a few days late he said that the account was still in her name—the whole attempt to change it had been in vain. Just like home.
Despite the minor practical glitches, we are having a fantastic time so far. It's hard to believe we have been here a week. Lew has already established connection with Sheatufim, The Israel Center for Civil Society, with which he will intern a few days a week working on a project related to the development of philanthropy in Israel. The offices are in a brand new gorgeous building a short train ride from Tel Aviv in Beit Yehoshua, a small “rural” community between Herzylia and Netanya. We visited last Monday and Atar, the director of philanthropy, gave us a tour and explained how the organization works. In a nutshell, Sheatufim was established to promote and support the development of non-governmental civic organizations in Israel. They mentor non-profits, voluntary organizations, and other independent and community groups, giving them the training and other tools to become more effective and professional— for example, through promoting knowledge and research, teaching measurement and evaluation skills, leadership and staff development, public relations and lobbying, internet database and technical expertise. They also bring together businesses, nonprofits, and the government to encourage dialogue and cooperation. Israel has been a welfare state since its inception with the government controlling most of the social institutions. This has been changing in the last several years but the infrastructure of non-governmental society is still much less developed than in the U.S. The philanthropy program at Sheatufim encourages newly affluent Israelis to become social investors (again, the tradition is not well developed here) and also promotes collaboration with donors outside Israel. Atar offered us the opportunity to join her the following day at the annual Conference on Civic Leadership taking place in Tel Aviv. This conference brings together those working in the nonprofit sector (including New Israel Fund, Jewish Federation, Sheatufim), academics, businesses (i.e. Microsoft is a sponsor) and government representatives (the prime minister’s chief of staff) to network and discuss new developments (hot topics included the current economic situation and the impact of the Madoff scandal on philanthropy). We sat through about 10 presentations (in Hebrew!!!!) in the morning before throwing in the towel. With a little help from Atar and a few slides in English we got the gist of things but it was a bit limited (I figure I got about 10% and Lew about 5%). It was very interesting to see this large diverse group of people from all over Israel who are working for social change.
The conference was held in a rebuilt auditorium (partly destroyed in a previous conflict) in HaTikva neighborhood. This is a poorer, immigrant neighborhood in the southern part of Tel Aviv that is home to Yemenites, Filipinos, Africans and others. In a symbolic gesture, the Labor Party recently relocated its headquarters here from northern Tel Aviv near our neighborhood. After we left the conference we walked through HaTikva neighborhood and its market and saw men grilling meat on small grills in the street. We also explored the Levinsky spice market near the new central bus station—beautiful displays of fruits and vegetables, nuts, spices, all types of meat, chicken, fish, vats of what looked liked curries or stews, interspersed with stalls selling household goods, toys, clothing—literally everything from soup to nuts. We came away with a tea strainer and a small waste basket and a mat for the bathroom. We hope to do more shopping there when we figure out how to haul it back to our apartment on the other end of the city.
With Shabbat coming up yesterday we were determined to get into the groove earlier and avoid the supermarket crunch. A friend advised us to go to the outdoor shuk (market Ha-Carmel which is supposed to be the happening place on Fridays. I am happy to report that we completed a successful expedition by bus to Shuk Ha-Carmel market in the southwest part of Tel Aviv from our neighborhood in the northeast. We are gradually mastering the bus routes--- to Tel Aviv university and Ramat Aviv, the wealthy area surrounding it. Unfortunately, we sometimes aren’t able to retrace our route in the opposite direction! Yesterday, coming home from the market we couldn’t find the same bus. Also, Shabbat was coming up fast and when we finally located another good route, the buses were less frequent and the sheruts—shared van taxis that follow the bus routes- were full. Finally we hopped on a sherut that took us all the way back home, just before everything shut down (whew!). The market was colorful and crowded. At the entrance on Nahalat Benyamin there were street performers in the plaza. Walking through the market we were tempted by the many delicious looking foods and chatchkas for sale. We successfully negotiated the purchase of: dates, dried cherries, almonds, fresh coconut, mozzarella, rye bread, Jordan almonds, olives and rubber sandals for Lew. We also enjoyed small pitas topped with zatar spices, a jelly doughnut and we shared a pita stuffed with lamb patties, veggies, hummus, tahini, hot sauce, etc. (yummy!!!!!). We will definitely be returning to this place. We also bought some more household items at a small store near by and experienced what’s becoming a familiar exchange with a helpful local. Seeing us comparing prices and debating which packet of clothespins to buy, she informed us in limited English that “This one is better. I just bought.” People here are definitely not hesitant to decide what is the best thing for you. Also, frequently when people on the street overhear our confusion about directions or how to do something, they don’t hesitate to explain or point out the best way without being asked. Generally we find people very friendly and tolerant of our ignorance.
Last night we attended services at Beit Daniel, a reform synagogue that is part of the Daniel Centers for Progressive Judaism. The service was very lively with lots of wonderful music and singing. It happened that they were welcoming a new Torah that had survived the Holocaust and that a local family donated. I hope to get more of the story because I could only understand a small bit of the speeches. The evening began in the lobby with singing and dancing with the Torah under a chuppa, accompanied by musicians playing the accordian and sax. We then made a procession upstairs into the sanctuary for more singing and dancing and finally the evening service. The music was great, many of the tunes familiar, and the cantor had a wonderful voice as well as a very engaging personality. He basically kept things moving right along at a lively pace. The crowd of about two hundred was very mixed with older folks and many young families. There also seemed to be people from many different countries/backgrounds. The little kids were running up and down the aisles and up to the bima and it felt a lot like the Kehillah. Afterwards there was hummus and pita, wine, challah, cake and juices in the social hall. Lew went back for a Bar Mitzvah this morning and the crowd was smaller, mostly family. The Daniel Center has a guest house in Jaffa and is building another synagogue there. They do a lot of education around tolerance and diversity. Unbelievably, and continuing the uncanny parallels with L.A., they have a relationship with Stephen S. Wise congregation—the synagogue my parents helped found in L.A. They also have a relationship with Temple Israel in Hollywood. The Jewish Federation of Los Angeles supports their school and schul program which brings Judaic education programs to secular Tel Aviv public schools.
Continuing the coincidences—don’t you think that our neighborhood name, Bavli, sounds like Beverly, as in Beverly Hills? Weird. Actually a closer parallel in status and lifestyle is the upscale area of Ramat Aviv where the very posh Ramat Aviv Mall is located---beautiful mega mall with high fashion clothes and shoes, gourmet foods, cosmetics (MAC!), Pilates studio,etc. Ramat Aviv and other new northwestern suburbs near the sea are fancier versions of Bavli. Our friend Udi explained the genesis of these neighborhoods. (He and his wife are from Tel Aviv but now living in Chapel Hill; he was here last week visiting family and gave us a tour). Bavli was the first new neighborhood built to the north of the city center with the concept of a self-contained urban village, much like Southern Village or Meadowmont. Bavli, built in the 60’s, has a supermarket; mini shopping mall with banks, dry cleaners, andcafes; parks and playgrounds; a community center and kindergarten; neighborhood scouting groups (very big here) as well as schools, health clinic, and “country club” (health club/pool). Nearby Yehuda Hamaccabi street has more shops and restaurants (including a good felafel place). The idea is that you have everything close to where you live. The newer areas further north are similar but more upscale and the high rises (mostly everyone lives in apartments—some very large with great terraces and views) look out on the nearby Mediterranean. There is also easy access to the beaches. A nice life! These areas are very family oriented. We have many children in our building, including the newborn upstairs. Atar, Lew's colleague at Sheatufim, told us that Bavli used to be the place where all the Labor Party bigwigs lived. Her grandmother was the secretary to Shimon Peres. She said that when she was growing (she is in her late thirties) she remembers going to a café in the neighborhood and listening to the Labor Party oldsters, no longer in charge but still active, talking politics and debating how the country should be run. Also, the former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Frenkel, presumably lives in our building but we haven’t met him.
A few more random observations before I close this episode:
The university campus is beautiful with interesting architecture and sculpture, many green spaces, and lots of cats. More on this after I take the art and architecture walking tour. However, if I can get my photos uploaded you will be a picture of the building housing the “Faculty of the Exact Sciences” (whatever they are).
Atar told me that the alternative to the word for husband in Hebrew (ba’al which is master) is ben zug (ben is son and zug is couple I think). I like this better. She also told us that when a pregnant woman requires amniocentisis the doctor recommends TWO DAYS of rest afterwards.
I just finished a wonderful novel called Fault Lines by Nancy Huston with themes similar to the book our chavurah read last year about the impact of WWII on succeeding generations (the title escapes me at the moment). This book is told through the eyes and voices of four children from successive generations of a family moving backwards in time to Germany and the theft and forced adoption of Ukrainian and Polish babies and young children into German homes. Excellent.
I am startled overhearing Filipinos and Africans speaking Hebrew. The Filipino embassy is in our neighborhood.
I read in the newspaper the other day that in contrast to the last Lebanon War, the army took the soldiers' cell phones away so that they are not distracted or confused by different messages.
Despite the minor practical glitches, we are having a fantastic time so far. It's hard to believe we have been here a week. Lew has already established connection with Sheatufim, The Israel Center for Civil Society, with which he will intern a few days a week working on a project related to the development of philanthropy in Israel. The offices are in a brand new gorgeous building a short train ride from Tel Aviv in Beit Yehoshua, a small “rural” community between Herzylia and Netanya. We visited last Monday and Atar, the director of philanthropy, gave us a tour and explained how the organization works. In a nutshell, Sheatufim was established to promote and support the development of non-governmental civic organizations in Israel. They mentor non-profits, voluntary organizations, and other independent and community groups, giving them the training and other tools to become more effective and professional— for example, through promoting knowledge and research, teaching measurement and evaluation skills, leadership and staff development, public relations and lobbying, internet database and technical expertise. They also bring together businesses, nonprofits, and the government to encourage dialogue and cooperation. Israel has been a welfare state since its inception with the government controlling most of the social institutions. This has been changing in the last several years but the infrastructure of non-governmental society is still much less developed than in the U.S. The philanthropy program at Sheatufim encourages newly affluent Israelis to become social investors (again, the tradition is not well developed here) and also promotes collaboration with donors outside Israel. Atar offered us the opportunity to join her the following day at the annual Conference on Civic Leadership taking place in Tel Aviv. This conference brings together those working in the nonprofit sector (including New Israel Fund, Jewish Federation, Sheatufim), academics, businesses (i.e. Microsoft is a sponsor) and government representatives (the prime minister’s chief of staff) to network and discuss new developments (hot topics included the current economic situation and the impact of the Madoff scandal on philanthropy). We sat through about 10 presentations (in Hebrew!!!!) in the morning before throwing in the towel. With a little help from Atar and a few slides in English we got the gist of things but it was a bit limited (I figure I got about 10% and Lew about 5%). It was very interesting to see this large diverse group of people from all over Israel who are working for social change.
The conference was held in a rebuilt auditorium (partly destroyed in a previous conflict) in HaTikva neighborhood. This is a poorer, immigrant neighborhood in the southern part of Tel Aviv that is home to Yemenites, Filipinos, Africans and others. In a symbolic gesture, the Labor Party recently relocated its headquarters here from northern Tel Aviv near our neighborhood. After we left the conference we walked through HaTikva neighborhood and its market and saw men grilling meat on small grills in the street. We also explored the Levinsky spice market near the new central bus station—beautiful displays of fruits and vegetables, nuts, spices, all types of meat, chicken, fish, vats of what looked liked curries or stews, interspersed with stalls selling household goods, toys, clothing—literally everything from soup to nuts. We came away with a tea strainer and a small waste basket and a mat for the bathroom. We hope to do more shopping there when we figure out how to haul it back to our apartment on the other end of the city.
With Shabbat coming up yesterday we were determined to get into the groove earlier and avoid the supermarket crunch. A friend advised us to go to the outdoor shuk (market Ha-Carmel which is supposed to be the happening place on Fridays. I am happy to report that we completed a successful expedition by bus to Shuk Ha-Carmel market in the southwest part of Tel Aviv from our neighborhood in the northeast. We are gradually mastering the bus routes--- to Tel Aviv university and Ramat Aviv, the wealthy area surrounding it. Unfortunately, we sometimes aren’t able to retrace our route in the opposite direction! Yesterday, coming home from the market we couldn’t find the same bus. Also, Shabbat was coming up fast and when we finally located another good route, the buses were less frequent and the sheruts—shared van taxis that follow the bus routes- were full. Finally we hopped on a sherut that took us all the way back home, just before everything shut down (whew!). The market was colorful and crowded. At the entrance on Nahalat Benyamin there were street performers in the plaza. Walking through the market we were tempted by the many delicious looking foods and chatchkas for sale. We successfully negotiated the purchase of: dates, dried cherries, almonds, fresh coconut, mozzarella, rye bread, Jordan almonds, olives and rubber sandals for Lew. We also enjoyed small pitas topped with zatar spices, a jelly doughnut and we shared a pita stuffed with lamb patties, veggies, hummus, tahini, hot sauce, etc. (yummy!!!!!). We will definitely be returning to this place. We also bought some more household items at a small store near by and experienced what’s becoming a familiar exchange with a helpful local. Seeing us comparing prices and debating which packet of clothespins to buy, she informed us in limited English that “This one is better. I just bought.” People here are definitely not hesitant to decide what is the best thing for you. Also, frequently when people on the street overhear our confusion about directions or how to do something, they don’t hesitate to explain or point out the best way without being asked. Generally we find people very friendly and tolerant of our ignorance.
Last night we attended services at Beit Daniel, a reform synagogue that is part of the Daniel Centers for Progressive Judaism. The service was very lively with lots of wonderful music and singing. It happened that they were welcoming a new Torah that had survived the Holocaust and that a local family donated. I hope to get more of the story because I could only understand a small bit of the speeches. The evening began in the lobby with singing and dancing with the Torah under a chuppa, accompanied by musicians playing the accordian and sax. We then made a procession upstairs into the sanctuary for more singing and dancing and finally the evening service. The music was great, many of the tunes familiar, and the cantor had a wonderful voice as well as a very engaging personality. He basically kept things moving right along at a lively pace. The crowd of about two hundred was very mixed with older folks and many young families. There also seemed to be people from many different countries/backgrounds. The little kids were running up and down the aisles and up to the bima and it felt a lot like the Kehillah. Afterwards there was hummus and pita, wine, challah, cake and juices in the social hall. Lew went back for a Bar Mitzvah this morning and the crowd was smaller, mostly family. The Daniel Center has a guest house in Jaffa and is building another synagogue there. They do a lot of education around tolerance and diversity. Unbelievably, and continuing the uncanny parallels with L.A., they have a relationship with Stephen S. Wise congregation—the synagogue my parents helped found in L.A. They also have a relationship with Temple Israel in Hollywood. The Jewish Federation of Los Angeles supports their school and schul program which brings Judaic education programs to secular Tel Aviv public schools.
Continuing the coincidences—don’t you think that our neighborhood name, Bavli, sounds like Beverly, as in Beverly Hills? Weird. Actually a closer parallel in status and lifestyle is the upscale area of Ramat Aviv where the very posh Ramat Aviv Mall is located---beautiful mega mall with high fashion clothes and shoes, gourmet foods, cosmetics (MAC!), Pilates studio,etc. Ramat Aviv and other new northwestern suburbs near the sea are fancier versions of Bavli. Our friend Udi explained the genesis of these neighborhoods. (He and his wife are from Tel Aviv but now living in Chapel Hill; he was here last week visiting family and gave us a tour). Bavli was the first new neighborhood built to the north of the city center with the concept of a self-contained urban village, much like Southern Village or Meadowmont. Bavli, built in the 60’s, has a supermarket; mini shopping mall with banks, dry cleaners, andcafes; parks and playgrounds; a community center and kindergarten; neighborhood scouting groups (very big here) as well as schools, health clinic, and “country club” (health club/pool). Nearby Yehuda Hamaccabi street has more shops and restaurants (including a good felafel place). The idea is that you have everything close to where you live. The newer areas further north are similar but more upscale and the high rises (mostly everyone lives in apartments—some very large with great terraces and views) look out on the nearby Mediterranean. There is also easy access to the beaches. A nice life! These areas are very family oriented. We have many children in our building, including the newborn upstairs. Atar, Lew's colleague at Sheatufim, told us that Bavli used to be the place where all the Labor Party bigwigs lived. Her grandmother was the secretary to Shimon Peres. She said that when she was growing (she is in her late thirties) she remembers going to a café in the neighborhood and listening to the Labor Party oldsters, no longer in charge but still active, talking politics and debating how the country should be run. Also, the former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Frenkel, presumably lives in our building but we haven’t met him.
A few more random observations before I close this episode:
The university campus is beautiful with interesting architecture and sculpture, many green spaces, and lots of cats. More on this after I take the art and architecture walking tour. However, if I can get my photos uploaded you will be a picture of the building housing the “Faculty of the Exact Sciences” (whatever they are).
Atar told me that the alternative to the word for husband in Hebrew (ba’al which is master) is ben zug (ben is son and zug is couple I think). I like this better. She also told us that when a pregnant woman requires amniocentisis the doctor recommends TWO DAYS of rest afterwards.
I just finished a wonderful novel called Fault Lines by Nancy Huston with themes similar to the book our chavurah read last year about the impact of WWII on succeeding generations (the title escapes me at the moment). This book is told through the eyes and voices of four children from successive generations of a family moving backwards in time to Germany and the theft and forced adoption of Ukrainian and Polish babies and young children into German homes. Excellent.
I am startled overhearing Filipinos and Africans speaking Hebrew. The Filipino embassy is in our neighborhood.
I read in the newspaper the other day that in contrast to the last Lebanon War, the army took the soldiers' cell phones away so that they are not distracted or confused by different messages.
First Shabbat in Tel Aviv
It's amazing how many people speak Hebrew here! And fluently too! We are playing catch up and have already used several useful terms: where is the bathroom? what is that? how much does this cost? chocolate ice cream, please; one half felafel with everything,please; everything is good, in order, excellent (pick one). The most useful phrase on Friday turned out to be s'licha which means, excuse me. That was because we didn't get to the supermarket, which is just across the street, until after noon. A big mistake!!!!! You have not experienced congestion until you shop in an Israeli supermarket just before they are closing for Shabbat at around 1:30 or 2 pm. We need to work on our cart navigation skills as well as our assertiveness!! It was very exciting trying to communicate to the clerks who don't speak English which of the dozens of similar looking cheeses and salamis we wanted. It was also fun figuring out which price went with which fruit or vegetable. On the plus side, the tomatoes, carrots, cukes, strawberries, dates, yogurt, and challah are outstanding. Also, I am able to once again satisfy my addiction to a certain kind of very thin, crisp anise cookie/biscuit that I discovered last time we were here. Good thing we are walking it all off every day.
We enjoyed a long walk on Shabbat through nearby Hayarkon park-the largest park in Tel Aviv, kind of like Central Park but with a river running through it- to the new port area which is not a working port anymore but has a boardwalk with lots of shops, cafes, bars, ice cream/gelato shops and street entertainment. Very good for people and dog watching. The dog lovers among you will be happy to know that Hayarkon has an enclosed dog play area. Also, there seem to be almost as many pet stores as cafes in this town. Well, not quite. The number of cafes in Tel Aviv is several times larger than the number of churches in North Carolina! Back to Shabbat--the entire city appeared to be out enjoying the beautiful sunny day. We saw children and adults in every kind of conveyance imaginable, including bicycles, scooters, skateboards, roller blades, motor boats, pedal boats, row boats, motorbikes, wheelchairs, and so on. Not to mention the car which put me in mind of L.A. Speaking of L.A., I feel very much at home here because of the many parallels between the two cities. I am so happy to see the sun setting over the sea in the West and to smell the delicious eucalyptus trees.
More about our lovely Bavli neighborhood next time, except to report that the local health club with indoor and outdoor pools, exercise machines, snack bar, classes, etc. is close by and is called a "country club." Also we are right across the HaYarkon river from Tel Aviv University.
We enjoyed a long walk on Shabbat through nearby Hayarkon park-the largest park in Tel Aviv, kind of like Central Park but with a river running through it- to the new port area which is not a working port anymore but has a boardwalk with lots of shops, cafes, bars, ice cream/gelato shops and street entertainment. Very good for people and dog watching. The dog lovers among you will be happy to know that Hayarkon has an enclosed dog play area. Also, there seem to be almost as many pet stores as cafes in this town. Well, not quite. The number of cafes in Tel Aviv is several times larger than the number of churches in North Carolina! Back to Shabbat--the entire city appeared to be out enjoying the beautiful sunny day. We saw children and adults in every kind of conveyance imaginable, including bicycles, scooters, skateboards, roller blades, motor boats, pedal boats, row boats, motorbikes, wheelchairs, and so on. Not to mention the car which put me in mind of L.A. Speaking of L.A., I feel very much at home here because of the many parallels between the two cities. I am so happy to see the sun setting over the sea in the West and to smell the delicious eucalyptus trees.
More about our lovely Bavli neighborhood next time, except to report that the local health club with indoor and outdoor pools, exercise machines, snack bar, classes, etc. is close by and is called a "country club." Also we are right across the HaYarkon river from Tel Aviv University.
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