It's the 1960's in Tel Aviv

The tents have not disappeared. They have multiplied. And the movement has too. Last night hundreds of thousands of Israeli's peacefully gathered to speak out for a more balanced dispersal of country resources. It seems Israeli's have caught the Arab spring fever. 

We have been out to see the tents, but have not attended a rally. We have heard from our cousin that the rallys have been inspiring and motivational gatherings. And they have captured the nation's attention.

Much of what the Israeli's are looking for from their government can be broadly translated to the needs of the American people right now. Some of the particular issues are different (the USA would benefit from a national healthcare plan, while Israel could benefit from a reset in housing pricing). But the general concept of a government that serves the people, not just the rich and the corporations, resonates. What would it take to get Americans out in protest like this?

National upheaval: More than 300,000 protestors hit streets - Israel News, Ynetnews

First world, third world, and toilet paper

I used to think I lived in a first world country, in the U.S.  I was told I was moving to a first world country, surrounded by third world countries, when I moved to Israel.

I'm not sure either is accurate.  The third world is certainly more obvious in Israel, when things like this occur - a donkey drawn cart heading north, a block up from our street.

But a lot of what goes on in the U.S. doesn't seem very first world to me either (like millions of Americans without access to proper healthcare).  The terms are really just a differentiator for GDP, not quality of life.  As Einstein said, "Not everything that can be counted counts and not everything that counts can be counted."

On a slightly lighter note, I miss U.S. toilet paper.  For a first world country (and Israel is in the same category as most of Europe in this case), they suck at producing decent toilet paper.  The stuff here reminds me of visiting my dad in Bolivia.  As I begin to run out of the little things that remind me of home, I realize I am not yet adjusted to this new place.  My apartment feels like home, but the country does not.

Community giving in Israel

Just before Passover, I was walking past Rabin Square, where all major Tel Aviv city events have their epicenter.  This was the display - hundreds of empty shopping carts lined up on the square, under a billboard which encouraged Israeli's to donate food so that no family would go without meals during the eight day holiday. 

I have learned a little about local attitudes toward giving and fundraising engagement.  It exists.  But it doesn't sound like the runs/walks/drives are common here.  I'm not certain, but it doesn't sound like corporate fundraising teams exist here.  While a little can be fun and build a sense of community and shared purpose, it can also become so pervasive that people get sick of the "cause of the week" in the U.S. 

The non-profits I've met here struggle to find funding like everywhere else though, and the trend toward unchecked capitalism is invading non-profits just as it is in the U.S., so it will be interesting to see how the culture of giving progresses - will non-profits copy the U.S. model, or find their own path?

A visitor

May brought with it our first house guest from the U.S., which gave us our first significant motivation to get out and see the country of Israel.

After a day of adjusting to his 10 hour time difference, we took dad on a day trip up north.  We started with the Banias waterfall in the Galilee.  Although I managed to pack sandwiches, drinks, and bring the travel guides, I didn't think to look up the weather.  It was the first of May, so we're in the dry season, right?  As we got into the upper Galilee, it rained.  A lot.  And I didn't bring a raincoat.  We were in shorts.  And sneakers.  At the entrance to the waterfall trail, we saw the other tourists washing their shoes off.  We were in for a muddy trek!  Who would have expected thick, sticky mud on the trail in the middle east? 

Our second stop was the Nimrod Fortress. These relatively young ruins, from the Crusades during the 1200's, sat on a hilltop that was almost too cold to walk through!  We ventured on though, and were rewarded with very little company. This afforded us a particularly special opportunity to see some unusual wildlife.

At the far side of the castle, we first noticed these rodent-looking creatures similar to a racoon. But they had no contrasting colors, and no tails. There were dozens of them, and plenty of babies.

We finished the day with a late lunch / early dinner in a Druize village.  Humus with meat, falafel, tehina, grilled meats, pickles, pitas and lemonade with mint to wash it down.  We drove back south past the Sea of Galilee. 

Our second day trip was to Jerusalem and the Dead Sea.  I am very proud of this day, as I drove to, and into, Jerusalem.  Driving in New York City is a cake walk compared to this.  I managed to get us to a view point of the old city.  Dad and I walked around the sites that I have visited when I was out there with tour guides.  The coolest part wasn't showing him the holy sites, but taking him to a little hole in the wall for lunch.  It was a place a guide had showed me, where she went for lunch (instead of the overpriced, under quality touristy spots).  We finished the day with a trip to Kalia Beach at the Dead Sea.  This was dad's favorite part of the day, and honestly, I can appreciate that.  Jerusalem, for all it's hype, feels like most other historical places that have been overrun by capitalism.  Everyone is hawking something, and it's all junk.  And there are just too many people, even on a slow day like this one.  While I can appreciate the religious importance that others attribute to the place, I'd much rather go underground and the ruins of where and how people lived.  Unfortunately there is very little of the city accessible in this way, and none of it for free. 

Our third day trip was south toward the Negev desert.  We intended to make it all the way to the crater, about a 2.5 hour drive each way, but were so absorbed in the caves at the Bet Guvrin National Park that we ran out time to get there.  We really went back in time here, to about 300 B.C.  These caves were the homes of the Hellenistic people.  They dug levels down into the ground.  They had large water cisterns, huge pigeon breading rooms, and living space.  The room in the picture to the right was an olive oil processing room.  They have been producing the same food products in this region for literally thousands of years.  In fact, they still are.  We purchased several bottles from the kibutz that still works the olive trees in this area.

We also walked through the Roman ampitheater ruins in this area (built much later than the caves), and drove further south to the Zin Valley where I was last fall for the Deserts Conference.  I was able to show Dan and my dad the amazing valley and canyon here, although we were rushed out by a Park guard who clearly wanted to get off work early.  Even though we only had about a half hour in the park, we got to see an interested interaction between two young bedoin goat herders and the Park Ranger.  He was clearly giving them a hard time for crossing through park territory. 

Our fourth trip was to Caesarea, which I visited back in 2006.  This was a half day trip, the day after the crazy Independence Day party.  Dad and I walked through the park, which I remembered as being slightly more impressive than it seemed to me this time.  I don't know if it is the fact that I have seen ancient Roman ruins in many more countries now, or if tourism has diminished a bit of the mystery and sense of exploration in this place.

We finished the day with a stop at the ancient Roman aqueduct on the sea, having a snack while sitting on top of it, then walking along the beach next to it for 20 minutes or so.  Again, a pontentially moving place, but too many people to fully appreciate it.  These were locals however, not tourists like in the National Park.  It gave new meaning to "under the boardwalk," as in this case it was "under the ancient Roman aqueduct."  You can't experience that in America.

My final trip with dad was to Masada.  Dad was the one who noticed this one in the guidebooks.  I am really glad he did.  It was a hike - a little over a two hour drive each way, but worth it.  It is a 2,000+ year old fortress built on the top of a mountain in the desert, overlooking the Dead Sea.  We sprung for the cable car ride both ways, and were very glad we did.  We got our walking in on the top.  And there isn't much shade, so this is not a good spot to tour in the summer.  Plenty of people start before sunrise and hike up from below, which takes about an hour, they say.  I promise, if you come to visit, we'll take the cable car again.  :)

Like other national parks with ancient ruins, they have worked to rebuild parts to give a better sense of the layout.  Here they did something really helpful though, they drew a line along the walls showing what was found in place, and what was archaeologically rebuilt.  I appreciate this, as it can often be hard to tell what has survived and what has been re-created.  Although the the climate was quite different, it reminded me of my visit to Machu Pichu with my dad in 2000.  Here we were on another continent, on top of another mountain, looking at the ruins of an ancient culture.  I can't help wondering what the ruins of modern culture will look like in 500 years, or 2,000?

Gardening in the middle east

Spring has nearly come and gone.  

The fruit trees took a real beating over the winter.  The olive, as you can see, florished.  The bay leaf, lime, and finally the guava have put out lots of new foliage.  I'm still waiting to see whether my pomello is going to make a comeback, but I'm pretty sure I've lost the chezec (I got to eat this for the first time this spring - they look and taste a little like apricots, but have a group of large seeds inside instead of a pit).

Most of my herbs returned.  The basil died, so I put in a few new ones.  Lost one of those to over-watering, but the other is thriving.  My flowers are blooming like maniacs, and I have little green tomatoes all over the place. 

The humming birds are crazy.  They don't seek the feeder anymore, with all the flowers in bloom.  But they're here plenty, and always interested in a conversation. 

My biggest challenge right now is getting the right amount of water on each pot, because I've used up my little pots to add tomatoes, nastertiums and sweet peas.  The drip watering system that we pieced together (see the white plastic pipe at the base of the fence) sends the same amount of water out of each tube, so I would either need a lot more tubes for the big pots so I can scale back the amount of time it turns on each night, or I have to keep moving the little pots so they aren't over-watered.  I keep experimenting. 

Hit and Run

I was heading north to a conference last Tuesday, on a two lane road.  Just after I cleared straight through an intersection, I heard a horn and then "crunch."  I looked in my rear view to see a gold colored Isuzu truck pushing the back left of my little Mojito (Ford Fiesta).  But the guy driving didn't look surprised.  He didn't stop.  He only backed off enough to come up directly behind me, then zip around my right side and cut me off.  By this point, I had slowed below the speed limit to make sure other vehicles passed me and separated me from this maniac.  I was obviously a bit shook up. 

What was with this guy?  I was just heading down the road.  Now, I have learned here that there seem to be unusual expectations about right-of-ways.  For instance, often when there's a two lane road, some jerk will park in one of the lanes for his own convenience, never mind the hundreds of vehicles he's slowed down while they merge to get around him.  When this happens, there is a lot of last minute zipping across lanes, so you really have to pay attention because even if you're in the clear lane, you may have to stop suddenly to avoid someone in the blocked lane who has cut you off. 

But this Isuzu was clearly behind me.  Even if I made a cultural driving mistake, it was quite clear he hit me on purpose, not because I didn't follow some rule of the road.  The only thing I could have done to try to avoid him if I had seen him before he hit me was speed up beyond the speed limit, as there was a car in the lane to my right. 

We were on a road with plenty of traffic and lights, so he only got a few vehicles ahead of me before the next light.  At that point, I wrote down his plate, make and model.  With the local vehicle distributor's help, we reported the guy.  The damage wasn't as bad as it sounded and felt.  But how would I know, I've never been hit before. 

Israel = home of many first experiences.  And plenty of them I could do without.

Sirens, take two.

Holocaust Remembrance Day, May 2, was my first experience with a nation-wide moment of silence (sure, we have these in the U.S, but they are not nationally observed with 100% participation).

During the week between that day (more on that experience in a previous post) and the following week, it was business as usual here, except symbols of nationalism were being erected everywhere.  And we started getting formation fly-by rehearsals for the following two holidays.

On May 9th, Israeli Memorial Day was observed.  Days are confusing here, because they are observed from sundown to sundown, so when there is a holiday, it is observed over two days.  Therefore, on the evening of Sunday, May 8th, at 8pm, another siren rang out and the whole country stopped for a minute.  Just before 9pm, we walked to Rabin Square, about 15 minutes from our apartment, where the Tel Aviv city memorial ceremony was held.  There were speakers, singers, and many stories of lives lost, recorded and told by surviving family members.  It was sad.  Really sad.  There are very few Israeli's who do not have a personal connection to a life lost here - family or friends, as they have nearly all served in the military, and it is, afterall, a very small country, collectivist culture.

The next day, morning began with another siren.  People were noticably in mourning still.  But as the sun went down, schizophrenia set in.  It became Independence Day.  We took dad to a friend's home for a BBQ, a Memorial Day tradition that is shared between Israel and the U.S.  It couldn't start until 8pm however, after sundown, when the day of mourning was over. 

We arrived back home just before midnight.  As we pulled into the driveway, I said to Dan and my dad, "boy, that's loud.  I'm glad it's not in our building."  What a dummy.  As we came up the elevator, it got louder......and LOUDER.  Stepping into the hall, I could no longer hear Dan as we tried to discuss who should get their keys out. 

Although dad had the best room in the apartment, farthest wall away, surrounded by concrete, and only one small window, he still had to put on his noise canceling headphones and throw a pillow over his head to try to sleep through it.  Dan and I weren't so lucky.  We have sliding glass doors from our bedroom next to the neighbors apartment.  So, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? 

We had been invited, "hey guys, we're having a party tomorrow, so you'll either want to leave town, or come over."  They had a DJ with speaker system, trays of sushi, and a bar staffed by two scantilly dressed young women.  A few drinks, rooftop fireworks display, and three hours later, I was ready to call it quits.  I laid out my camping mattresses, grabbed my pillows and blankets, and shut myself into our bunker to see if I could get a little shut eye.  Unfortunately, there is a window there too.  It was marginally successful, but I still woke. 

At 4am I decided it was time to try the cops, just to quiet it down a wee bit for us old folks who wanted to fall asleep before the sun came up (I was hoping to take my dad to Caesarea that same day and wanted to feel semi human for it).  After transferring me to an English speaker, they told me it's the one night of the year Israeli's can party all they want.  They don't enforce the noise ordinance until after 6am!  I crawled back in my cave, and hoped my exhaustion would overcome my ears.  Luckily, when I woke again just before 5am, I heard silence.  The DJ had gone home.  Hooray!  Back to a real bed for me.  Did I mention this was a Monday night? 

There is one more day worth mentioning in this May series of holidays here.  It's Nakba Day, May 15th, and represents the Palestinian view of Israeli independence - "the day of catastrophe."  Palestinians organized protests all over the country, and in neighboring countries.  There was a young Arab who drove his truck into a bus and pedestrians just a few miles south of where we live, in Jaffa, the Arab part of Tel Aviv.  He sent dozens to the hospital, and at least one person died.  Also, a crowd of hundreds of Syrians charged the border into Israel, breaking through.

In the U.S., most of us are fairly removed from the significance of Memorial and Independence Day.  These holidays are very personal for the vast majority of Israeli's.  The middle east is a complicated place.  I don't feel unsafe.  But I do feel more aware.   

Fresh Paint

The first weekend of April, Tel Aviv hosted an annual art exhibition that draws professionals from the Guggenheim and other internationally recognized places of fine art.  It's called Fresh Paint.  Dan and I walked around it for about an hour and a half after dinner Thursday night.  Entrance was about $8pp.  It was well worth it.

This photo is from my personal favorite -
EDITH KOLLATH - NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME
Project Initiator and Curator - Keren Bar-Gil


It was a really simple concept.  A chiffon square of white fabric, hung at the four corners by strong on pulleys.  It would lift, then fall, in an infinite number of new forms.  Never the same. 

Next to it was my other favorite, which I can not properly show you here.  It was a shelf of old books on their sides.  But if you paid attention, you'd notice that they were breathing.  Cleverly wired from the inside, the cover and pages would lift slowly, then drop again.  A wisper of a soundtrack made me feel like I was in a Harry Potter movie watching living, breathing books. 

The exhibit also had a wall of postcard surprises, where you had to buy the postcard to find out who the artist was.  It could be a well-known, established artist, or a newcomer.  But you had to commit to what you liked before you could find out.  Quite clever, but the $50/card price was a bit steep, so we didn't get to "discover" anyone. 

We're looking forward to attending next year's exhibit though!

Sirens

My first day back to Ulpan after the Passover holiday was Monday, May 2nd.  At 10am everyone stopped for 2 minutes. I was told that even people in cars would stop on the freeway, get out, and observe these 2 minutes. In Ulpan, the break times were adjusted to bring all classes together in their gathering hall for a ceremony. The room was packed, more than during previous holiday observances. A siren started, and we all stood up (it could not have lasted for more than a minute, and afterwards I could hear the sirens outside for a moment). There was a candle lighting ceremony by students representing various countries. This was followed by the resident singer guitar player and half an hour of songs.


Then we went back to class. Dad (he's visiting right now) told me he went out on our balcony when the sirens sounded and saw everyone get out of their vehicles on the roads below. He also noticed walkers stop and others inside buildings come to their windows.  This however, also lasted for under a minute.

Next week a similar event will occur at 11am on Memorial Day for soldiers. After these two somber days will come Independence Day which I am told is a big celebration here.

Stay tuned for more...

Another unusual day at Ulpan

Last Wednesday, April 6, Ulpan Gordon held a "mini" Passover Seder all morning.  I say mini, not because it was small (see picture at right) because all the classes were there, easily 200+ students and teachers.  It was also not shortened.  It still took at least an hour and a half of songs and readings before we ate.  It was "mini," because it only included the boiled egg, boiled potato, matza cracker and gifilta fish ball. 

I'd like to say it was interesting, but it was hard to follow.  We read the Passover story in class before hand, so I understand the holiday is about the Jew's exodus from Egypt, which included avoiding eight plagues.  I understand that the appetizers each represent something as well, and the readings and songs correspond to these.  But I couldn't really follow it. 

Still, I stuck it out until the end. 

Afterwards, upon leaving class and turning the corner onto Ben Yehuda a block north of Ben Gurion, we were haulted by the police.  They had cleared the intersection to check a suspicious "package" (I never saw it, so I don't know what it was).  The bomb squad hooked up some lines to it, went back about 50 feet, and tugged.  Nothing happened, so I guess they were sufficiently comfortable that it was a false alarm.  They packed up and left, and we were able to go on our way too.  

It reminded me of the NYC campaign in the subways - "If you see something, say something."  Obviously, somebody said something.

Throwing Money at the Street - The Economist on Arab Economies

It seems the middle east approach to quelling uprisings is handouts and buy-offs. It is strange to be in a tiny country that is a U.S.-Europe hybrid in the middle of all this. You'd never know it here. Sure, the culture is unique, and the language isn't English, but Israel is like a drop of oil in a bucket of vinegar (or maybe vinegar, in an oil field?). http://www.economist.com/node/18332638

The Moth comes to Tel Aviv

When we were living in Michigan, we discovered a great live storytelling program called The Moth, thanks to NPR coverage.   The concept started in NYC, in someone's living room, where a group of people got together, people put names in a hat, and 10 were drawn to get up and tell an original story under 5 minutes.  You can read about the exact structure of the events on their website.  The concept caught on, expanded to public locations, and then to LA, Chicago and Detroit.  We attended the Detroit events several times.  You had to get to the bar, Cliff Bell's in Detroit, at least 2 hours before the storytelling began, if you wanted in the door.  And it was standing room only once you were in.  If you live in any of these cities, I highly recommend going in person.  If you don't, you can hear selected stories on NPR, or, you can do what the following couple did.

A few months back we met an American couple working here in Tel Aviv.  I was put in touch with them by a fellow Wellesley alum.  He works for Better Place, and she just finished her master's degree at Brandeis, where I began mine, so we have a few things in common.  In March they decided to start StorySlamming in Tel Aviv, by hosting the first one here (at least, the first one we know of, and almost certainly the first one in English (although one of the 10 stories did end up in Hebrew). 

They held it at their apartment, starting on the roof and then coming back to their living room when it got too cold.  (Yes, it can get cold here).  The theme was "danger."  There were about 40 of us there.  And Dan put his name in the hat.  Sure enough, he was picked, and I have to say he represented us very well.  I on the other hand, am not much of a live storyteller.  You'll have to settle for mine in print. 

They plan to throw another StorySlam after Passover.  We'll be there!

On Hold in Israel

My sister forwarded this article from the Tufts University news about an Israeli visiting professor's take on the current situation in the middle east. It resonates with exactly what I've been hearing here.

On Hold in Israel

Kids in costumes - but it's not Halloween

Last week began with anticipation.  At least for the kids who knew Purim was coming.  As I was walking up to Ulpan on Wednesday morning, March 16th, it occured to me that it might just be the day that Ulpan Gordon was planning it's holiday celebration.  Sure enough, the one day of last week that I could actually attend, was the one day we didn't do any real studying.  But it was still interesting, as you can see from the top photo, all the classes were brought together for a kind of talent show and party.

The week prior, we prepared for Purim by reading the story of the Scroll of Ester in Hebrew.  The Jewish kids had a leg up on me, as they knew the story and could thereby deduce the meaning of many of the new words in it (not to mention they new the names of all the characters).  Thanks to a friendly Canadian friend in class (aren't all Canadian's friendly?)  I got the English translation, which, afterwards, made re-reading the Hebrew version much easier. 

It goes like this - there was a King, and there were the Jews.  The King got rid of his first wife.  He threw a party to find a second wife.  Mordachi, uncle to Ester, told her to go and woo the King, but don't tell him she's a Jew.  She did.  They married.  Then one day Mordechi didn't show the King's advisor, Haman, appropriate respect.  Haman told the King to kill the Jews, starting with Mordechi as the example.  Ester heard and told the King he'd have to kill her too because she was Jewish.  He didn't like the idea.  So he killed Haman instead. 

So to celebrate, every year on Purim, kids dress up in costume, and they eat triangle-shaped cookies by a name that translates into Haman's Ears.  This goes on for nearly a week.  Kids have been out in costume since last Wednesday.  They had Sunday and Monday off school this week as well.  The bottom photo is a class group I saw yesterday morning.  The middle photo is from a street party over the weekend.  It's a big deal here.  Probably the most boisterous holiday I've seen here yet. 

I've asked what the connection is between the costume parties and the Scroll of Ester.  No one seems to know, although someone told me it might be that the King's wife-recruitment party may have been a costume ball.  Or it may represent the mascarade/deception required by Ester, which saved the Jews.  Every Jewish story I have heard so far follows a theme of saving the Jews.  I don't know much about religion, honestly, so I can't say whether other religions are focused on this theme of "saving our people."  I don't recall Native American stories including much of this.  But maybe I only got the elementary school version.  What does the inclusion/omission of this topic in folklore say about cultures? 

Ministry of the Interior, take two

After our attempt to get my B1 Israeli Work Visa (requires renewal every 6 months) converted to an A5 Temporary Resident Visa (requires renewal once per year, and makes me eligible not only to work, but to access Israeli healthcare) at our meeting with the Ministry of the Interior on February 27th, we went back yesterday.

The reason they didn't upgrade me on the spot last time, was that they said they were waiting for the additional document they asked for in August.  They wanted a document stating that I have no prior marriages or children (the only document in the US which says this is the marriage license, and mine said right on there no prior marriages.)  So I went in September to the US Embassy and paid $50 for the notary on a letter I wrote saying I have never been previously married nor do I have any children.  But the lawyers said we'd just bring this to the 6 month renewal meeting, where we'd likely get the A5 upgrade with teodat zehut (Israeli ID #, like a social security #).  When we got there in February, the MOI rep said they had booked a meeting to receive the documents, but not to do our interviews, so we would have to come back, and their next available appointment wasn't until May.  This led to general Israeli arguing between the MOI reps, the lawyers, and Dan.  It worked.  We got our interviews scheduled for yesterday, March 17.

I wore green to the interview (it was St. Patrick's Day afterall, a big holiday in my family, because it's my sister's birthday!).  I was interviewed first, and the rep began by asking about Dan's trip to Dubai, and why I went with him, and how he got there in the first place (Israeli's can't go to Dubai, but American's can.)  She asked me who cleans our apartment, if I like cooking, what I cook for Dan (pretty sexist if you ask me), what I got him for his last birthday (to which my answer was, I think nothing.  geeze, are we married or what?).  She asked where we lived before, how we met, what my hobbies are, etc.  I warmed her up when I explained that I was attending Ulpan (hebrew lessons), and used a little on her.  Meanwhile, Dan and the lawyers (yes, two of them came with us this time) were wondering why it was taking so long.  When I was done, I explained to them that I had to rephrase a lot due to her less than fluent English skills (but who can blame her, at least she was willing to do it in English or I would have been up a creek.)

Dan was up next.  When he was done, the MOI rep said we'd have to come back in 2 weeks for a decision.  This led to an additional argument, some speaking with the manager, and then a response of, "we never make exceptions like this,"  which according to the lawyers was a load of B.S.  Oh, and the additional paperwork they asked for on Feb 28th, 12 additional months of paystubs and bank statements, weren't necessary this time.  The rules are made.  Then they are changed.  Why?  The agent's mood, the weather, who knows.  This is Israeli (maybe middle east) culture.  It's not exact or precise.  There's a guidebook.  But it's just a suggestion.  More often than not, it will change, as quickly as an Israeli's mood.

Fits and Starts

It's called Holmes Place.  It's a bit too mainstream for my tastes, but it is conveniently located 2 blocks from home.  I had tried to find something like my Jazzercise studio in Royal Oak, MI here, but they don't have fitness center's dedicated to aerobic dance.  They have dance studios (I found one that had a lot of class options, but it's a 40 minute walk from home, most of the classes were after 8pm, and they wanted about $15 per 1 hour class, which at 3x/week gets expensive).  The alternative I found in Tel Aviv is aerobic dance classes offered at some of the gyms, like Holmes Place.  So zumba and energy dance at the gym it is for me.  Since I have the membership now, I'm planning to try out other classes too, just for balance and curiosity, like yoga, pilates, and maybe belly dancing.  When in the middle east, right? 

Getting my membership began with the usual thinly veiled hard sell from a gym rep.  They called relentlessly to follow up.  And I hmm'd and haa'd over it until I got them to eliminate the registration fee (about $100), lower the early cancellation fee (from $100 to about $50), and take my payments in two installments (whereby I gave them a temporary limited credit card # on the first payment, so I'm really not locked into the one year contract if I don't want to be).  Now they call me regularly but don't leave messages.  And they text me in Hebrew (which I can read about 1/10th of - I thought that was pretty impressive).  However, I discovered the hard way, when I showed up for my "free" nutritionist appointment earlier this week (that unbenounced to me, was cancelled), that the rep who sold me the membership forgot to write "English" on my file, which explains some of the miscommunication. 

As with everything around here, I don't fit the mold, so anything new comes in fits and starts. 

What's wrong with education as we know it?

An engaging perspective on the situation of education.... 

Religion at work

On a networking/job board I read in Israel, the below question was recently posted which fueled a hot debate as to the interpretation/intent of both the question and the employer in question:

I have a question. A friend's place of employment is requiring workers to sign a declaration that they are "religious/shabat observant" and for that reason can not work Shabat. If at any time, someone that has signed the declaration is "caught" not observing the Sabbath, they can possibly lose their job.
The management has not answered the following:
1 - who decides what is Shabat observant?
2 - who is checking?
3 - how is it documented?
4 - Can this be legal?
 
The responses posted ranged from a comparison of Israel to Iran (which not surprisingly made some readers defensive), to the belief that this company is probably observant and just wants to be sure their employees don't do any work on their behalf during the holiday. 
 
As a citizen of a country that separates church and state (well, is supposed to), this obviously wouldn't fly.  But in a country where the religion is central to it's very existence, I can see where this must become an issue on a regular basis.  For instance, I wonder if all government / corporate cafeteria's have to abide by kosher laws?  There is strong pressure for businesses that serve/sell food to observe. But some have done a cost-benefit analysis and decided to pay the penalty fees levied by local and state goverment because they still come out ahead by being open on Shabat, and/or offering non-kosher options. 
 
I can't imagine working anywhere that would impose their religious beliefs on me.  I've seen job postings that I would be an excellent candidate for here in non-profit, but most have a religious purpose or tone, thus taking me out of the running. 

I know Israel is not the only country in which church and state are intertwined, but I wonder whether there are any others where religion equals culture and it can't be separated from the fundamental establishment of the state?  There are many Israeli's who don't believe it should be this way, but there are not enough of them in positions of power.  Interestingly, statistical models show that Israel's Jewish population will become a minority within the next decade.  If the country wants to hold onto it's claim of of democracy, will this lead to a shift in leadership to represent the new mix? 

All cities should have this

Bicycle sharing.  It's like ZipCar for bicycles (with a much lower cost of entry).  Except that you don't have to return your bike to the same location.  You can pick up and drop off at any of the stations around town.  So no more worries about your bike being stolen. 

We fell in love with the system in Paris (I took the top picture here of Dan and my mom, Charolette, last September).  Dan has used bike-sharing in Montreal.  And now it is coming to Tel Aviv!  According to the bike-sharing blog, Vancouver, Canada and Seattle, WA are studying the possibility of adding a system.  Portland, OR is implementing a plan.  And Denver, CO already has it.  Washington, D.C. does as well, and Boston, MA was supposed to get it last year (not sure if it is operational).

Just one more reason you should come visit us here (besides the fact that I planted my tomato seeds outside this afternoon, in shorts and a tank top.)

35,000 feet in the air

This is it.  We're on the plane from Los Angeles to Atlanta, then on to Tel Aviv tonight.  I can't believe it has been six weeks already.  I haven't spent more than a two week visit in Washington State since the summer of 1997.  While I would have much preferred for this visit to have taken place in August (thereby experiencing the best weather of the Pacific Northwest while avoiding the worst of Israel), it was a great visit. 

I met my nephew, Ernest, in his NICU room, then watched him come home and grow from barely 5 pounds to over 7.  I visited over a dozen family members all across the state including all my grandparents.  My good friend Erin, from Wellesley, came up from Santa Rosa, CA to visit for a weekend in Seattle.  I had a crazy night out with my best friend from high school, Leigh, and was asked by my best friend from elementary school, Stacy, to stand up in her wedding in July.  It is exciting to be going home, knowing I will be back again this summer to see more friends and family whom I missed on this trip.  It is amazing how quickly days can pass when a member of the house is on a 3-hour eat, sleep, and diaper cycle.  I spent many mornings and afternoons cooking, and many evenings babysitting.  And I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

I took full advantage of the exceptional local seafood - oysters, clams, and salmon.  And realized how much I miss access to raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, and all the local native versions like salmonberries and huckleberries.  Unfortunately the local varieties are only available in August, so I will miss them this year.  I will also miss the tulips and daffodils that will sprout up all over the Skagit Valley in a month.

Dan joined me for my last few days in Seattle, and we wrapped up our visit with a weekend in Los Angeles for his cousin Ariel's wedding.  This provided a bit of easing back into my new reality in Hebrew.  I have a bit of trepidation about the inevitably confounding struggle to communicate that I will face upon my return home.  But it does feel like I am returning home, and that's a nice feeling. 

I am looking forward to stocking up on fresh produce from the shuk, and not layering my clothes to keep warm anymore.  And I am excited to see Israel in springtime.