Saturday thru Sunday mornin:
Anna and I get-up to get ready to take a boat from Egypt to Jordan. The boat turns out to be $70. We make other plans. Specifically, we cross back into Eilat, Israel and take a cab to the Israeli-Jordanian border (in case it's not obvious, they blast Britney Spears' "Gimme More" at the Israeli-Jordanian border). When we crossed to the Jordanian side, Anna used her charm and newly-developed Arabic skills to get us out of havin to pay the entry tax. I also began to notice a fascinating trend: hand-holding and affectionate touching among Arab men. I experienced this custom first-hand, so to speak, when the tourism officer at the Jordanian border held my hand lightly as he conversed with Anna. To throw off his game I kept squeezing his hand then relaxing my grip. The Egyptian border guards hold hands, too, btw.
In Aqaba, we hopped on a bus. No, wait. First, this guy offered us a ride for 5 Jordanian Dinar (which did u know is worth more than the dollar?! outrageous). We hopped in his car, but Anna was like "I don't feel the vibe" so we told him thanks but nah. Then we got a bus (that was actually a van). The van/bus was full of Jordanians, packed. I don't know if this was intentional, but the men were in the front and all the women were in the back. How did I notice this, you ask? The only seat left was next to the driver facing the back of the bus. So it's me, the lone American (minus Anna) facing the whole van. A great time for one of the Jordanian guys up-front to ask me, "so what religion are you?"
First I pretended not to understand the question. "Are you [Arabic word for Christian]?" he asked, making the sign of the cross. "Nope," I said. "Allah?" asked the driver, expectantly, as he leaned into my seat not lookin at the road. "No," I said. "Yehud?" was the third guess. I pretended not to know the meaning. "I like all religions," I said honestly. "Allah's actually pretty cool." They tried to understand: either I might be Jewish or that I had no religion at all (speaking from personal experience, that's a hard question, in general). For better or for worse, the language barrier prevented the convo from going any further.
A Jordanian man and his wife (one of two, we learned) invited us to their house and we accepted. His children were adorable. He wore a Keffiyeh, and when I walked in the house his daughter was there with her hair uncovered. She went to her room and started to put on a Hijab, but I walked in on her again while her Dad was giving us the tour of the house. At that point she musta been like "the damage is done" bc she left her hair uncovered the rest of the time we were there.
Our Jordanian Dad was nice enough to lead us to the highway and flag down a car for us to hitchhike in. After tea, of course. Our new friend was a banker and store-owner in Amman, and though his English was weak we had a lot of fun. We played this "game" which was basically him trying to talk and Anna and me trying to guess what he was saying. "In Egypt, the police not follow the..." "Law?" I guessed. "Yes, law! Now one point for Brett, two for Anna." When we got to Amman, tired and weary, he took us to his favorite Hummus and falafel spot. It was divine, truly. Allah or otherwise.
Quick sum-up: Anna has a dope roommate who's written a book on Tunisian-Jewish poetry, Amman is an awesome city, and I caught a 5 AM bus back to Tel Aviv and went to work that Sunday (diff work week here). I hadn't showered since before the beach in Egypt, which made me pretty much like everyone else at my office. JK. Oh, lastly, the border-crossing back into Israel from Jordan is a zoo. And then they dropped me off in East Jerusalem but this nice Jewish-American recent Stanford grad helped me find the bus back to TA.
Wknd was like Whoa.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Egypt
Friday:
Actually this story starts on Thursday. From Jerusalem, I travelled with my friend Anna (we volunteered together in Ukraine 04) to Eilat, at the Southernest [sic] part of Israel. We had planned to travel to Jordan, where Anna is working for the summer, but by the time we got to Eilat Thurs night the Jordanian border was closed. Lucky for us, the Egyptian border keeps the same hours as 7-11, so we were like "f-it, lets go." The Egyptian side of the border is hilariously lax. There is, quite literally, more security entering an average shopping mall in Israel (fyi, to go to the mall in Israel they search your bag, you gotta go thru a metal detector, and you also have to take off your pants. JK about the pants).
So it's 1 AM, we in Egypt, Sinai to be exact, and we got no plans. I turn to some Israeli's standing next to me and ask, "hey do you guys know where to go?" 5 mins later we're sharing a cab to "Paradise" (that's the name of the beach. Yes, it is scary when a group of Egyptian men are all yelling askin if you want to go to Paradise. I was like, "hell no I don't wanna go to Paradise!").
In reality though, it was. Our Bedouin cab-driver spoke fluent Hebrew, and he spent most of the drive talkin World Cup with our new Israeli friends (is the Cup big back home? Here it's like everyday is the Super Bowl). His fluent Hebrew would turn out to be extremely typical. The Egyptians at Paradise all spoke flawless Aivrit ("Hebrew" in Hebrew) and were totally chill. On Friday night, Anna asked if there was going to be anything for Shabbat. "Of course!" was the response (in Hebrew). In addition to having Stars of David hanging around, the staff arranges a communal Shabbat meal every Friday, provides candles and wine, and are generally the nicest guys ever. I don't know if it was the beach setting, market capitalism, or the Middle Eastern-hippie crowd, but people there REALLY seem to get along. Almost Israeli-Egyptian utopia. Regretably, when I told my Israeli co-workers about it, they told me that "Sinai is not really Egypt." Or so they say.
A really crazy thing I gotta mention is that we actually ran into the crew I had chilled with at the Kibbutz the wknd before! They all just happened to be there. Keep in mind I wasn't even trying to go to that country that night, let alone that beach. And the Israelis that took us there turned out to be AMAZING, amazing people. Iraqi-Algerian, Moroccan-Yemenite newlyweds taking a break before their trip to Thailand and medical school in Hungary. We went snorkeling together (seeing what is in the ocean is wild, yo) and talked politics, religion, you know.
And the food was good. And it was cheap.
Actually this story starts on Thursday. From Jerusalem, I travelled with my friend Anna (we volunteered together in Ukraine 04) to Eilat, at the Southernest [sic] part of Israel. We had planned to travel to Jordan, where Anna is working for the summer, but by the time we got to Eilat Thurs night the Jordanian border was closed. Lucky for us, the Egyptian border keeps the same hours as 7-11, so we were like "f-it, lets go." The Egyptian side of the border is hilariously lax. There is, quite literally, more security entering an average shopping mall in Israel (fyi, to go to the mall in Israel they search your bag, you gotta go thru a metal detector, and you also have to take off your pants. JK about the pants).
So it's 1 AM, we in Egypt, Sinai to be exact, and we got no plans. I turn to some Israeli's standing next to me and ask, "hey do you guys know where to go?" 5 mins later we're sharing a cab to "Paradise" (that's the name of the beach. Yes, it is scary when a group of Egyptian men are all yelling askin if you want to go to Paradise. I was like, "hell no I don't wanna go to Paradise!").
In reality though, it was. Our Bedouin cab-driver spoke fluent Hebrew, and he spent most of the drive talkin World Cup with our new Israeli friends (is the Cup big back home? Here it's like everyday is the Super Bowl). His fluent Hebrew would turn out to be extremely typical. The Egyptians at Paradise all spoke flawless Aivrit ("Hebrew" in Hebrew) and were totally chill. On Friday night, Anna asked if there was going to be anything for Shabbat. "Of course!" was the response (in Hebrew). In addition to having Stars of David hanging around, the staff arranges a communal Shabbat meal every Friday, provides candles and wine, and are generally the nicest guys ever. I don't know if it was the beach setting, market capitalism, or the Middle Eastern-hippie crowd, but people there REALLY seem to get along. Almost Israeli-Egyptian utopia. Regretably, when I told my Israeli co-workers about it, they told me that "Sinai is not really Egypt." Or so they say.
A really crazy thing I gotta mention is that we actually ran into the crew I had chilled with at the Kibbutz the wknd before! They all just happened to be there. Keep in mind I wasn't even trying to go to that country that night, let alone that beach. And the Israelis that took us there turned out to be AMAZING, amazing people. Iraqi-Algerian, Moroccan-Yemenite newlyweds taking a break before their trip to Thailand and medical school in Hungary. We went snorkeling together (seeing what is in the ocean is wild, yo) and talked politics, religion, you know.
And the food was good. And it was cheap.
West Bank
3 countries in 3 days.
Thursday: Traveled to Jerusalem and from there to the West Bank (South Hebron Hills) for a tour with "Breaking the Silence," an organization of ex-Israeli soldiers who served in the Occupied Territories during the Second Intifadah. If I had expectations going in, it was mostly bracing myself to hear some very disturbing things. Our guide, however, was pretty much like most other Israelis I've encountered: he talked about the need to balance security with Palestinian rights. And though he came out more on one side of that scale than the other, the discussion was still the same. There was no "Israel is an apartheid state" or "Zionism is racism" rhetoric. He told some tough stories, no doubt: he talked about Settlers who attack Palestinian school children, about what it's like to conduct a home invasion, and what the "just following orders" mentality does to one's ability to empathize. We also heard about the Israeli Gov's "willful blindness" when it comes to Settlements, overtly discriminatory property laws, and the ways Palestinian villages are systematically deprived of water (a scarcity here, to be sure).
We also went to a "Palestinian village." I reluctantly use quotes bc in actuality the village consists of a few dozen tents set-up in a seemingly arbitrary place in the middle of nothin. Just behind it, though, was a Settlement that looked like a regular Israeli neighborhood (which I guess in some sense it is). And this was, in the words of our guide, an example of a Palestinian village that was experiencing "a resurgence."
We also got to meet with the head of that Palestinian village. Alluding but not dwelling on Settler violence, he seemed more tired than angry. He spoke of his lack of faith in both governments. And he talked about the need for peace.
Some other interesting aspects: our tour guide still serves in the Reserves of the Israeli army. Another surprise was that, with the permission of the military, he gives his presentation at pre-military academies to Israelis who are about to start their national service.
The people on the tour were interesting, but most of them seemed like they were there to confirm their already well-entrenched views about the situation. One notable exception was this really cool journalist I sat next to from San Francisco. When her story comes out I'll link to it.
Onto less serious topics:
1. We got vegetarian Indian food in Jerusalem. Ate with an Italian film director who was on the tour with us. Cool dude.
2. The bagels in TA are the size of steering wheels.
3. Besides occasionally confusing the word for "vegetarian" with the word for "Zionist," my Hebrew is improving.
In the words of Ice Cube, "It Was a Good Day."
Thursday: Traveled to Jerusalem and from there to the West Bank (South Hebron Hills) for a tour with "Breaking the Silence," an organization of ex-Israeli soldiers who served in the Occupied Territories during the Second Intifadah. If I had expectations going in, it was mostly bracing myself to hear some very disturbing things. Our guide, however, was pretty much like most other Israelis I've encountered: he talked about the need to balance security with Palestinian rights. And though he came out more on one side of that scale than the other, the discussion was still the same. There was no "Israel is an apartheid state" or "Zionism is racism" rhetoric. He told some tough stories, no doubt: he talked about Settlers who attack Palestinian school children, about what it's like to conduct a home invasion, and what the "just following orders" mentality does to one's ability to empathize. We also heard about the Israeli Gov's "willful blindness" when it comes to Settlements, overtly discriminatory property laws, and the ways Palestinian villages are systematically deprived of water (a scarcity here, to be sure).
We also went to a "Palestinian village." I reluctantly use quotes bc in actuality the village consists of a few dozen tents set-up in a seemingly arbitrary place in the middle of nothin. Just behind it, though, was a Settlement that looked like a regular Israeli neighborhood (which I guess in some sense it is). And this was, in the words of our guide, an example of a Palestinian village that was experiencing "a resurgence."
We also got to meet with the head of that Palestinian village. Alluding but not dwelling on Settler violence, he seemed more tired than angry. He spoke of his lack of faith in both governments. And he talked about the need for peace.
Some other interesting aspects: our tour guide still serves in the Reserves of the Israeli army. Another surprise was that, with the permission of the military, he gives his presentation at pre-military academies to Israelis who are about to start their national service.
The people on the tour were interesting, but most of them seemed like they were there to confirm their already well-entrenched views about the situation. One notable exception was this really cool journalist I sat next to from San Francisco. When her story comes out I'll link to it.
Onto less serious topics:
1. We got vegetarian Indian food in Jerusalem. Ate with an Italian film director who was on the tour with us. Cool dude.
2. The bagels in TA are the size of steering wheels.
3. Besides occasionally confusing the word for "vegetarian" with the word for "Zionist," my Hebrew is improving.
In the words of Ice Cube, "It Was a Good Day."
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Kibbutz livin
Before I get into my Kibbutz experience, a few quick highlights:
1. I met author Jonathan Safran Foer who was in Tel Aviv to talk about his new book, "Eating Animals." Very convincing presentation on the environmental costs of eating meat. It's not why I got in the game, but I'll take it.
2. Spent the wknd before last in Zichron Yakov with friends from my Freshman year trip to Honduras. Beautiful people.
One of those great people, Alisha, has been living on a kibbutz for the past six months as part of a Palestinian-Israeli-Jordanian-North American Environmental education program (if you think that's an unlikely combo, today at work I came across "The Texas Chapter of the Human Rights Congress for Minorities in Burma." I bet it's in Austin).
Alisha's Kibbutz is in the way, way south of Israel, about a 4.5 hour bus ride from Tel Aviv. On the way down I sat next to an dude from Sudan trying to find work in his 4th country since he left home. Interestingly, he's not a refugee from Darfur but a Muslim immigrant from Khartoum. He told me that Israel is "racist unless your Jewish," citing the Ethiopian community and even African-American Hebrews as proof. Sad to say, racial tensions in Israel run high these days, as Israel's own variation on Brown v. Board of Education threatens to widen the already deep fissure dividing religious and secular Jewish communities in Israel.
Despite the turmoil, or maybe because of it, the insular, close-knit feel of the Kibbutz was a welcome break from the politics and activism of Tel Aviv. Founded by American Jews, Kibbutz Ketura now hosts volunteers from the U.S., Chile, Australia, England, Ethiopia, Ecuador, and many more as reflected in the totally unpredictable playlist at the Kibbutz bar (ever hear a DJ play "Welcome to Jamrock" and then follow it up with Israeli folk music? It's not as bad as you think).
On Friday, the Jordanian et al. people from Alisha's program had a potluck dinner and literally sat around playing guitar and singing together. I'm making it sound more like utopia than it was. You can still sense the divisions, suspicion and cold shoulders. But in-between the 112 degree days, the 5 AM hike up a mountain, and the cactus farming, I was really liking the kibbutz vibe.
Supernatual note: At the Kibbutz, I had a vivid dream about eating a hot dog. In the dream, I thought, well, I don't like eating meat, but this hot dog seems so good. There's nothing I can do. I ate it. I felt very conflicted about my choice.
When I woke up and went to the dining hall, they were serving hot dogs. "Should I break my vegetarianism?" I asked myself. "Maybe the dream has meaning." No, I insisted. Instead, I sat down next to this guy I had met at the bar the night before. "Did you try these hot dogs?" he said. "I love veggie hot dogs bc they don't pretend to be meat." I had one. I should've had more.
Here are some pictures: things I ate in Jerusalem, and Quality Time with my Honduras peoples.
1. I met author Jonathan Safran Foer who was in Tel Aviv to talk about his new book, "Eating Animals." Very convincing presentation on the environmental costs of eating meat. It's not why I got in the game, but I'll take it.
2. Spent the wknd before last in Zichron Yakov with friends from my Freshman year trip to Honduras. Beautiful people.
One of those great people, Alisha, has been living on a kibbutz for the past six months as part of a Palestinian-Israeli-Jordanian-North American Environmental education program (if you think that's an unlikely combo, today at work I came across "The Texas Chapter of the Human Rights Congress for Minorities in Burma." I bet it's in Austin).
Alisha's Kibbutz is in the way, way south of Israel, about a 4.5 hour bus ride from Tel Aviv. On the way down I sat next to an dude from Sudan trying to find work in his 4th country since he left home. Interestingly, he's not a refugee from Darfur but a Muslim immigrant from Khartoum. He told me that Israel is "racist unless your Jewish," citing the Ethiopian community and even African-American Hebrews as proof. Sad to say, racial tensions in Israel run high these days, as Israel's own variation on Brown v. Board of Education threatens to widen the already deep fissure dividing religious and secular Jewish communities in Israel.
Despite the turmoil, or maybe because of it, the insular, close-knit feel of the Kibbutz was a welcome break from the politics and activism of Tel Aviv. Founded by American Jews, Kibbutz Ketura now hosts volunteers from the U.S., Chile, Australia, England, Ethiopia, Ecuador, and many more as reflected in the totally unpredictable playlist at the Kibbutz bar (ever hear a DJ play "Welcome to Jamrock" and then follow it up with Israeli folk music? It's not as bad as you think).
On Friday, the Jordanian et al. people from Alisha's program had a potluck dinner and literally sat around playing guitar and singing together. I'm making it sound more like utopia than it was. You can still sense the divisions, suspicion and cold shoulders. But in-between the 112 degree days, the 5 AM hike up a mountain, and the cactus farming, I was really liking the kibbutz vibe.
Supernatual note: At the Kibbutz, I had a vivid dream about eating a hot dog. In the dream, I thought, well, I don't like eating meat, but this hot dog seems so good. There's nothing I can do. I ate it. I felt very conflicted about my choice.
When I woke up and went to the dining hall, they were serving hot dogs. "Should I break my vegetarianism?" I asked myself. "Maybe the dream has meaning." No, I insisted. Instead, I sat down next to this guy I had met at the bar the night before. "Did you try these hot dogs?" he said. "I love veggie hot dogs bc they don't pretend to be meat." I had one. I should've had more.
Here are some pictures: things I ate in Jerusalem, and Quality Time with my Honduras peoples.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Plug: Ethiopian-Israel Social Justice Program
The founder and director is a fantastic person and leader. This program promises to be really valuable, and it would be wonderful if you could pass this on to people you know or YOU!
The Yahel Social Change Program is an exciting new 5-month service learning experience for young adults between the ages of 21 and 27. The program is based in the town of Gedera in Israel, and combines hands-on volunteer work with in-depth learning and immersion. Offered in collaboration with a grassroots non-profit organization working in the Ethiopian community in the fields of community empowerment and education, this is a unique opportunity to take part in meaningful and innovative social change efforts in Israel .Yahel participants live, volunteer and learn alongside young adults from the local Ethiopian-Israeli community. Substantial grants and scholarships are available through Masa Israel Journey. Yahel is now accepting applications for the fall 2010 program. To learn more about the Yahel Social Change Program please visit: http://www.yahelisrael.com/programs_socialchange.php
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03EMGzz8LHI
The Yahel Social Change Program is an exciting new 5-month service learning experience for young adults between the ages of 21 and 27. The program is based in the town of Gedera in Israel, and combines hands-on volunteer work with in-depth learning and immersion. Offered in collaboration with a grassroots non-profit organization working in the Ethiopian community in the fields of community empowerment and education, this is a unique opportunity to take part in meaningful and innovative social change efforts in Israel .Yahel participants live, volunteer and learn alongside young adults from the local Ethiopian-Israeli community. Substantial grants and scholarships are available through Masa Israel Journey. Yahel is now accepting applications for the fall 2010 program. To learn more about the Yahel Social Change Program please visit: http://www.yahelisrael.com/programs_socialchange.php
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03EMGzz8LHI
Sunday, June 13, 2010
"If I forget thee, O Jerusalem..."
Source: Psalm 137, 5
Last Wednesday, I went to Beit Hanina, a Palestinian neighborhood in East Jerusalem, for a panel discussion on international humanitarian law in the wake of the flotilla (no pun). The legal issues were fascinating, and even more so was the group of Palestinian lawyers video-conferenced in from Gaza. Even their office furniture was interesting, and I tried to gauge what kind of facilities were available and what Gazan lawyers wear to work. Afterwards, I went to the Jerusalem office of my org, met a friend of a friend, Jaqui (now my friend), and an old friend (my homegirl Shelby from JDS).
I also had some nice run-ins. A Canadian ex-pat who advocated for a "no states" (plural) solution. A former Olympic boxer (or so his business card says) who is now a religious Jewish dietician. An elderly British man who insisted on holding my hand for a suspiciously long time as he asked for directions.
And on Friday, I went to my first Gay Pride parade. "No rainbow." Tel Aviv is essentially the most liberal city in the Middle East (not a hard contest to win), and the annual gay pride parade is an opportunity for gays, gay allies, lesbians over forty, asexuals, and burly gay men who call themselves "bears" to all wear speedos and wave highly identity-specific flags. The event of the season, to be sure.
It's just one of the ways in which TA and Jerusalem is a study in contrasts. In TA, for example, I had a lengthy conversation with a member of the Israeli Communist party (the words "proletariat" and "bougois" were used liberally, in both senses). In Jerusalem, on the other hand, I saw graffiti that read in Hebrew, "death to Arabs". Now, I think it is probably very likely that similar anti-Jewish graffiti can be found in Arab neighborhoods, but I don't read Arabic. In any event, the diversity of perspectives even among Israeli Jews is a constant feature of my experience in Israel.
The weekend was tight and deserves its own post. In the meantime, here are some pictures from Simone's party (in case u forgot, I already told ya).
Last Wednesday, I went to Beit Hanina, a Palestinian neighborhood in East Jerusalem, for a panel discussion on international humanitarian law in the wake of the flotilla (no pun). The legal issues were fascinating, and even more so was the group of Palestinian lawyers video-conferenced in from Gaza. Even their office furniture was interesting, and I tried to gauge what kind of facilities were available and what Gazan lawyers wear to work. Afterwards, I went to the Jerusalem office of my org, met a friend of a friend, Jaqui (now my friend), and an old friend (my homegirl Shelby from JDS).
I also had some nice run-ins. A Canadian ex-pat who advocated for a "no states" (plural) solution. A former Olympic boxer (or so his business card says) who is now a religious Jewish dietician. An elderly British man who insisted on holding my hand for a suspiciously long time as he asked for directions.
And on Friday, I went to my first Gay Pride parade. "No rainbow." Tel Aviv is essentially the most liberal city in the Middle East (not a hard contest to win), and the annual gay pride parade is an opportunity for gays, gay allies, lesbians over forty, asexuals, and burly gay men who call themselves "bears" to all wear speedos and wave highly identity-specific flags. The event of the season, to be sure.
It's just one of the ways in which TA and Jerusalem is a study in contrasts. In TA, for example, I had a lengthy conversation with a member of the Israeli Communist party (the words "proletariat" and "bougois" were used liberally, in both senses). In Jerusalem, on the other hand, I saw graffiti that read in Hebrew, "death to Arabs". Now, I think it is probably very likely that similar anti-Jewish graffiti can be found in Arab neighborhoods, but I don't read Arabic. In any event, the diversity of perspectives even among Israeli Jews is a constant feature of my experience in Israel.
The weekend was tight and deserves its own post. In the meantime, here are some pictures from Simone's party (in case u forgot, I already told ya).
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Chebrew
Things in IS is good (well, maybe that's too broad a statement. I'm havin fun).
My three-step "slipperly slope" plan to wear shorts to work has been a success. Here's how it works:
First day: Wear khakis and short-sleeve button-up (try to act really American and formal)
Second day: Wear jeans and t-shirt (overcompensate for day 1)
Day 3 through rest of summer: wear shorts with short-sleeve button-up (implicitly convey idea of middle-ground)
Feel free to try it out (results outside of Israel may vary)
Besides being extremely comfortable as I go about my duties, I'm experiencing aspects of Israel I didn't even know were there. I've gotten to use my Chinese twice this week. First, I saw a guy doing Tai Chi in the park. Turns out he's a representative of the Chinese government in TA (although Jerusalem is Israel's official capital, many foreign governments don't recognize it as such due to Jerusalem's "disputed" status. Instead, they put their embassies in TA). I was excited to talk about Tai Chi, but he asked me where I learned Chinese and I replied, "Taiwan." He gave me a confused look and asked again, "where?" I repeated myself (4-5 more times, trying out different tones along the way) before he realized what "Taiwan" meant. At which point he said many things I did not understand. I gathered, though, that much of what he was saying concerned the fact that Taiwan is really China, that Taiwan and China should be one country, etc. No more Tai Chi was discussed.
The second time I used my Chinese was actually at work. There's a worker's rights organization in the building, and Israel, apparently, has over 60,000 Chinese workers. These workers pay $31,000 (American) to come here. They obviously don't have that much yuan, so they take out loans and send money back. Problems then abound, so on Tuesdays this organization opens its doors to Chinese speakers who come in to get free legal advice, report rights violations, and receive cups of water from friendly Harvard law students with poor Chinese skills.
Karmically, I think all this happened because I got Chinese food this weekend. If there's one lifestyle complaint I have (which I don't), it would be the Chinese food. Ironically, perhaps, the sushi hear is reputed to be some of the best outside of Asia. Speaking of global rankings, the 2010 Lonely Planet named Tel Aviv one of the the world's "Top Ten party cities" . Strangely, it doesn't mention anything about it's Tai Chi scene.
My three-step "slipperly slope" plan to wear shorts to work has been a success. Here's how it works:
First day: Wear khakis and short-sleeve button-up (try to act really American and formal)
Second day: Wear jeans and t-shirt (overcompensate for day 1)
Day 3 through rest of summer: wear shorts with short-sleeve button-up (implicitly convey idea of middle-ground)
Feel free to try it out (results outside of Israel may vary)
Besides being extremely comfortable as I go about my duties, I'm experiencing aspects of Israel I didn't even know were there. I've gotten to use my Chinese twice this week. First, I saw a guy doing Tai Chi in the park. Turns out he's a representative of the Chinese government in TA (although Jerusalem is Israel's official capital, many foreign governments don't recognize it as such due to Jerusalem's "disputed" status. Instead, they put their embassies in TA). I was excited to talk about Tai Chi, but he asked me where I learned Chinese and I replied, "Taiwan." He gave me a confused look and asked again, "where?" I repeated myself (4-5 more times, trying out different tones along the way) before he realized what "Taiwan" meant. At which point he said many things I did not understand. I gathered, though, that much of what he was saying concerned the fact that Taiwan is really China, that Taiwan and China should be one country, etc. No more Tai Chi was discussed.
The second time I used my Chinese was actually at work. There's a worker's rights organization in the building, and Israel, apparently, has over 60,000 Chinese workers. These workers pay $31,000 (American) to come here. They obviously don't have that much yuan, so they take out loans and send money back. Problems then abound, so on Tuesdays this organization opens its doors to Chinese speakers who come in to get free legal advice, report rights violations, and receive cups of water from friendly Harvard law students with poor Chinese skills.
Karmically, I think all this happened because I got Chinese food this weekend. If there's one lifestyle complaint I have (which I don't), it would be the Chinese food. Ironically, perhaps, the sushi hear is reputed to be some of the best outside of Asia. Speaking of global rankings, the 2010 Lonely Planet named Tel Aviv one of the the world's "Top Ten party cities" . Strangely, it doesn't mention anything about it's Tai Chi scene.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Week One: what it is in Israel
besides Google being in Hebrew, things here are sweet.
At work, I share an office with a girl who listens to hip hop ("Song Cry" and DJ Clue, yesterday) while I work on my international human rights research projects. At lunch, I get falafel for < $4. And yesterday I found out that there is no work on Fridays...in all of Israel! Apparently the work week here is Sunday-Thursday, in accord with the Jewish Shabbat instead of the Christian sabbath (I don't know why I didn't know that already. I def would've come in on Friday if I hadn't asked, haha). To celebrate, I passed a book store on my way home and bought some comics (3 X-Men, 1 Iron Man) and a nice beet/ginger/celery/carrot juice. I mean, they make it so easy.
Last night my roommate Simone had a birthday party at my (her) apartment, which was cool cuz I got to chill with a lot of Israelis, including a lot of recent immigrants Simone knows from this "new immigrants youth group" sponsored by the Israeli gov. I met people from Chile, Colombia, Amsterdam, the States, and South Africa, and spent a lot of time talking to this Ethiopian girl. First-generation Ethiopians (i.e., born in Israel) are part of the program, too, because the adjustments for their families are typically more drastic than those of other immigrants. To wit, she told me about how her family walked from Ethiopia to Sudan (appx 750 miles) in 1984 to an Israeli airlift in "Operation Moses."
I also had an interesting discussion about marriage in Israel. According to a co-worker, civil marriage does not exist in Israel. That is, if you're Jewish and want to get married, a Rabbi has to marry you. If you're Jewish and want to get divorced, a Rabbi has to divorce you. If you don't get divorced by a Rabbi, and a married Jewish woman has a child with another man, that child is a "mamzer" and becomes an outcast of Jewish religious society for 10 generations (that sucks). If a man has a child while married to another woman, that child is not a "mamzer" (that's whack. but better than both situations resulting in "mamzers"?).
Tonight will be my first Shabbat in Israel, which some people love (day of rest) and others resent (why are all the stores closed?). Which reminds me, there seems to be two opinions about pretty much everything here (three for every two Jews--old joke). On the flotilla thing, for example, many believe that the facts are a lot murkier than have been presented (see here) while others maintain that the humanitarian wrong is clear. One of my co-workers said the other day, "we held a big protest against the Israeli gov in Tel Aviv with over a thousand people and the media didn't even cover it!" Then I was talking to another guy who said "we held this big protest supporting Israel that was a huge success compared to the counter-protest of less than 500 people!" They can't both be right, but try tellin them that.
At work, I share an office with a girl who listens to hip hop ("Song Cry" and DJ Clue, yesterday) while I work on my international human rights research projects. At lunch, I get falafel for < $4. And yesterday I found out that there is no work on Fridays...in all of Israel! Apparently the work week here is Sunday-Thursday, in accord with the Jewish Shabbat instead of the Christian sabbath (I don't know why I didn't know that already. I def would've come in on Friday if I hadn't asked, haha). To celebrate, I passed a book store on my way home and bought some comics (3 X-Men, 1 Iron Man) and a nice beet/ginger/celery/carrot juice. I mean, they make it so easy.
Last night my roommate Simone had a birthday party at my (her) apartment, which was cool cuz I got to chill with a lot of Israelis, including a lot of recent immigrants Simone knows from this "new immigrants youth group" sponsored by the Israeli gov. I met people from Chile, Colombia, Amsterdam, the States, and South Africa, and spent a lot of time talking to this Ethiopian girl. First-generation Ethiopians (i.e., born in Israel) are part of the program, too, because the adjustments for their families are typically more drastic than those of other immigrants. To wit, she told me about how her family walked from Ethiopia to Sudan (appx 750 miles) in 1984 to an Israeli airlift in "Operation Moses."
I also had an interesting discussion about marriage in Israel. According to a co-worker, civil marriage does not exist in Israel. That is, if you're Jewish and want to get married, a Rabbi has to marry you. If you're Jewish and want to get divorced, a Rabbi has to divorce you. If you don't get divorced by a Rabbi, and a married Jewish woman has a child with another man, that child is a "mamzer" and becomes an outcast of Jewish religious society for 10 generations (that sucks). If a man has a child while married to another woman, that child is not a "mamzer" (that's whack. but better than both situations resulting in "mamzers"?).
Tonight will be my first Shabbat in Israel, which some people love (day of rest) and others resent (why are all the stores closed?). Which reminds me, there seems to be two opinions about pretty much everything here (three for every two Jews--old joke). On the flotilla thing, for example, many believe that the facts are a lot murkier than have been presented (see here) while others maintain that the humanitarian wrong is clear. One of my co-workers said the other day, "we held a big protest against the Israeli gov in Tel Aviv with over a thousand people and the media didn't even cover it!" Then I was talking to another guy who said "we held this big protest supporting Israel that was a huge success compared to the counter-protest of less than 500 people!" They can't both be right, but try tellin them that.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
First days
I decided to revive in Israel the blog that was my bread and butter (rice and soy sauce?) in Taiwan. I'm also 2010-in' it with a brand new twitter to tweet: http://twitter.com/uptowntox
So here goes:
On my first day, I couldn't find the office. After wandering around a bit, and after walking into several banks and asking where the human rights association was, I eventually emailed my boss from a frozen yogurt shop down the street. When I finally walked in, she said, "so of course we're working on the Gaza flotilla incident." To which I responded by staring blankly, having not read the news since I woke-up that morning (is that so unreasonable?). Suffice it to say, starting work at an Israeli civil rights organization the same day as the Gaza flotilla "massacre" (as it has been called by Palestinian PM Abbas) was eventful.
(to see my org's response, click here and here)
When I first touched down here in Israel, I got to practice my Hebrew with an old Israeli man who told me that Arabs have "nine lives, like cats" (maybe my Hebrew's a bit rusty?). It reminded me of a conversation I had with a Tunisian cabbie in NYC on the way out here, in which he told me that American movies lie because "they make it seem like some cabdrivers are white."
Now that I'm here, work is good, and my co-workers are interesting. One, whose last day was yesterday, is half-Rwandan and half-German, and speaks openly about her family being victims of genocide on one side (Tutsi) and perpetrators on the other. I have at least two co-workers who believe that the Jewish state should not exist. One is Israeli.
I live two blocks from the beach. The falafel is great.
So here goes:
On my first day, I couldn't find the office. After wandering around a bit, and after walking into several banks and asking where the human rights association was, I eventually emailed my boss from a frozen yogurt shop down the street. When I finally walked in, she said, "so of course we're working on the Gaza flotilla incident." To which I responded by staring blankly, having not read the news since I woke-up that morning (is that so unreasonable?). Suffice it to say, starting work at an Israeli civil rights organization the same day as the Gaza flotilla "massacre" (as it has been called by Palestinian PM Abbas) was eventful.
(to see my org's response, click here and here)
When I first touched down here in Israel, I got to practice my Hebrew with an old Israeli man who told me that Arabs have "nine lives, like cats" (maybe my Hebrew's a bit rusty?). It reminded me of a conversation I had with a Tunisian cabbie in NYC on the way out here, in which he told me that American movies lie because "they make it seem like some cabdrivers are white."
Now that I'm here, work is good, and my co-workers are interesting. One, whose last day was yesterday, is half-Rwandan and half-German, and speaks openly about her family being victims of genocide on one side (Tutsi) and perpetrators on the other. I have at least two co-workers who believe that the Jewish state should not exist. One is Israeli.
I live two blocks from the beach. The falafel is great.
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