Mood Swing
Yesterday was Yom HaZikaron.

The remembrance started the night before, with a ceremony at the Western Wall. I caught part of it on TV...it was very moving. The sirens sounded, bringing the country to a halt; they sounded again yesterday morning. It's really impossible to describe what it's like to hear those sirens and know that nobody is moving even past the horizon. In Israel nobody moves--that one annoying jerk who thinks he's above it all and keeps playing shesh-besh simply doesn't exist here. It's really not something that can be adequately described: you have to experience it for yourself. The sirens sound like a long, sustained wail, as if the land itself is mourning it's dead. It rolls to a stop, and life continues.

On the road from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem (closer to Jerusalem, so we drive past this every time we head to and from Ashdod, as well) there are burnt-out, rusted vehicles on the side of the road. It's sad to say this, but Israel does memorials quite well. These are relics from the 1948 War of Independence; those vehicles were destroyed and the soldiers in them killed on the way to liberate Jerusalem. They simply left them there, and every time you enter Judaism's capital, you drive by them and are reminded that the city and the country were not bought cheaply. For the past week, they have been draped with Israeli flags and flowers. Nobody here is separated from the armed forces the way many are in the states. The army is respected here (if looked at somewhat derisively in a non-military context by the older generation because, hey, when they're not on duty, they're rowdy 20-year-olds--but the older generation served, as well), much more so than in the U.S.: it's impossible to imagine Israeli soldiers coming home to the reception American vets were given after Vietnam. It's hard to go an hour without seeing an armed soldier if you're out in public, and I've never gone a full day here without seeing several, because practically the entire 18- to 21-year-old population is conscripted. The only exceptions are for the religious community and for Arabic-speaking Druze and Bedouins--although I feel obliged to point out that the Druze and Bedouins often choose to serve, and, as a friend of mine from school pointed out, "they stand straighter for the Israeli flag than the Jews do."

Yesterday we went to the Old City with Elana's grandparents to visit the Western Wall. In front of the Western Wall there was a single flame guarded by two soldiers, which put me in mind of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington, but its context and placement in front of the Wall gave it an added power. Like I said, Israel does memorials very well. There was a sadness in the air--nobody is separated from the army and the wars because everybody knows somebody who was killed.

But then, with a swing that bordered on schizophrenic, everything changed. As soon as the sun went down the heavy mood that had been hanging over the city--the country--not only disappeared, but reversed itself into a spirit of jubilation and joy. Yom Ha'atzmaut, Israel's Independence Day and 56th Birthday, had begun.

We could hear fireworks, concerts, and laughter from our apartment, so we decided to take a walk to see what we could see. We walked our usual route to Emek Refa'im, and on the way we passed an elementary school, where there was a carnival going on. A band, junk food, people spraying each other and cars with foam...cars whose owners deserved it, apparently, for making the flagrant and provocative decision to park nearby. Israeli flags were strewn up on strings like streamers, glow sticks were plentiful, and of course, that Yom Ha'atzmaut tradition--little bonking hammers that make horrible squeaking sounds when you smack someone on the head--were everywhere. After all, what better way to celebrate the independence of your country than smacking a fellow citizen over the head with a cheap little toy? Elana and I managed to avoid both the foam spray and the hammers by crossing the street, but other passers-by weren't so lucky and/or smart. Or, we could reasonably conclude, they wanted to be slimed and bonked, because that's all part of the Yom Ha'atzmaut tradition, and is in itself a celebration. The Jewish people have been through so much anguish and suffering, pogroms and the holocaust and war: now isn't it wonderful that we can walk around like the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Man exploded on us while some little kid repeatedly smacks us in the head with an irritating little toy that sounds like somebody's squashing a mouse? It's absolutely frivolous, absolutely ridiculous, and absolutely childish.

You want to know something else? Israelis are right: it's also absolutely fantastic, and I wouldn't change it a bit.

What a great country. Chag and Yom Huledet Sameach!
- posted by @ 10:50 AM

 
Born on the Fifth of July
Elana's grandparents have moved in down the hall for the week. It's fun; we own half the floor now! We shuttle meals and dishes between the two apartments, their short term rental and our long term one. It's great to spend time with them alone this week...not that it's not great to see them in the context of The Family, but it's also very nice to have them to ourselves for a while.

They came two nights ago from Ashdod; Micha, our landlord, has been great about getting them set up (really the apartment is in a constant state of readiness) and he has also been flexible in scheduling. Yesterday we took them to the tayelet, the promenade, and showed them the great gardens and view of Jerusalem. Today we've been mostly relaxing. Elana has school today (I don't; more on that in a moment), so we loaded up in the newly-cleaned Shtinker and met her at JSS for lunch.

Like I mentioned in a recent post, this is an emotional time of year for Israel, and it is strange this year because the government rescheduled the holidays. Originally, Yom HaZikaron (memorial day) was going to be today, and Yom Ha'atzmaut was going to be tomorrow; however, there was a problem. It would not be a stretch to assert that a majority of Israeli families are related to someone who fell in a war, and many of these families go to the cemetery to visit the graves on Yom HaZikaron, which, like all Jewish holidays, starts at sundown the night before. This year, if Israel had stuck to the schedule, it would have meant that Yom HaZikaron started when Shabbat ended--and, of course, many families are Shomer Shabbat, and wouldn't be able to drive to the cemetery until very late. In extreme cases, people need to drive hundreds of miles to visit their fallen relatives. So, the government simply moved each holiday back a day, so Yom HaZikaron starts tonight and Yom Ha'atzmaut starts tomorrow night. This played havoc with schedules (not just here, but all over the world--events planned well in advance were forced to scramble to fall on the correct date--people abroad were very upset that if they could not change their Yom Ha'atzmaut celebrations, then they would actually be celebrating on Yom HaZikaron, which I of course cannot fathom). For school this meant that instead of Sunday and Monday off, we needed Monday and Tuesday off; the University decided it was ridiculous to return to studies for one day, so today remained cancelled. At JSS, the school cancelled Tuesday's class, and it will of course be understood that anyone absent tomorrow has good reason. Not that attendance is mandatory at JSS anyway--it's a place for the self-motivated--but even if it were mandatory I can easily imagine understanding as far as Yom HaZikaron is concerned.

I've taken advantage of the opportunity and caught up in all my work (well, at least I am on the way to being caught up). This semester has a very poor schedule for learning. We had a month-long break in February, returned to school for three weeks, had a two week break for Pesach, returned to school for two weeks, and now have these three days off (which amounts to a five-day weekend). It's been hard to stay in study mode with so much vacation, so it's good to have the chance to catch up. Also, after this, we're back mostly consecutively through June, and that's fortunate. I can hear my inner child gasping in horror at the fact that I'm complaining about too much vacation.

Speaking of which, enough procrastination. It's time to get back to my Arabic...my inner child has had an abundance of time playing first fiddle, and it's time to be a grup again.
- posted by @ 2:10 PM

 
New toy
I've added a counter for the sake of my own ego. It's still low, so it hasn't worked yet...

Anyway, today I gave my presentation in Hebrew; it was on driving cross country in the US. I spent most of the time struggling through an explanation of exactly what a prairie dog is (if you wonder how it came up, it was when I was talking about roadside attractions on the way). I think it went pretty well, regardless.

Nothing too much going on...today was a quiet day, so we're just taking it easy now. Tomorrow morning Elana's grandparents are coming to Jerusalem! More on that tomorrow.
- posted by @ 10:57 PM

 
Boom
We got our hands on a copy of Dirty Dancing today, and Elana and Chava are in the other room watching it. I was in in the bedroom doing my homework, when suddenly, from outside:

Boom!

Boom-boom-boom!

At first it sounded like fireworks to me. I went into the living room to see what was going on. Chava told us that Israel is probably shelling Gilo, the Arab neighborhood between here and Bethlehem (for your information, Bethlehem is about five miles away from here, closer than my University). So that's what shelling sounds like.

It stopped after a couple of minutes. Chava said that this is something that happens from time to time; we just haven't heard it yet. I don't know any more news about it, or even if that's truly what we heard (though it's really hard to think of any alternatives that are different in anything but the details). Well, what can we do? Back to homework. I have a presentation in Hebrew tomorrow.
- posted by @ 11:25 PM

 
Eye Opener
For the first time all semester, I didn't take my computer to class today. I have all of my non-language classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so I've been taking the computer to take notes those days. My theory was that since I could type faster than I could write (and sometimes when I am writing fast, I have trouble reading my own writing later) I would have much better notes if I was on the computer.

I realize now what a disservice I was doing to myself.

Everyone had been raving about Professor Moshe Sharon's class (he's a very big fish, by the way) on the Origins of the Bahai. Of course, this class covers the Sunni-Shi'i split and traces the history onwards. I didn't see what the fuss was about. Sure, it was a good class, interesting and well presented, but I nonetheless felt that I had been missing out for some reason.

Apparently, it was the computer. With the computer I was spending all my time typing and staring at the screen, like a secretary taking dictation. It also made me feel claustrophobic, having to sit in the corner to plug it in. Today it struck me how wonderful and engaging a lecturer Professor Sharon is, and the only reason I had missed it before was because I was placing a barrier between myself and the class.

Today's class was fascinating, and it really opened my eyes to something. The logic of it, incidentally, deserves a ten-page paper, which I'm not going to write because I doubt any of you want to read it, so I'm just going to jump right to the conclusion.

History is alive in the Middle East, more than anywhere else in the world.

If you don't believe me, listen to this. What's going on in Southern Iraq right now? Shi'is fighting for their holy cities. Why are they not in control? The answer truly goes back 1400 years. Professor Sharon demonstrated how the death of 'Ali's son Husayn in 680 is directly related to what's happening now. It's not a background. It's truly a CAUSE of the situation. This is something the West needs to realize: the lessons of this part of the world--political theory, military conduct, even codes of behavior--are largely and almost exclusively based on history. Or, rather, what was written about history, which is not at all the same thing, but in practice...well...what's the difference? If someone believes X happened, and acts accordingly, what difference does it make whether X actually happened? If you have to deal with that person, you also have to deal with X, whether it's factual or fictional.

The danger is that people here know it, and some (like Arafat, although he is hardly the first) invent history for their own reasons. I hope to become one of those people who can see through the bullshit. But there's a lot of it to wade through, and a lot of it is going to be in play in the region forever, bullshit or not.
- posted by @ 8:36 PM

 
This Time of Year
Today Israel commemorates the Holocaust.

The day started off in the right mood--the skies were overcast. At 10 AM, all over the country, the air raid sirens were sounded for one minute, and everyone stopped what they were doing and stood still in a moment of silence. It's quite eerie and powerful--conversations cease, cars stop on the highways and people step out to join in the moment, and everything is just halted.

This week is a difficult one for most Israelis. Obviously, many have family who perished in the Holocaust, and many have sons who fell in one of Israel's wars--these dead will be remembered one week from today, on Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day). The sirens will sound again.

Of course, in my opinion the fact that Yom Ha'atzma'ut (Independence Day) is one day after Yom HaZikaron is the perfect tribute (the second the sun goes down on Memorial Day, it's Independence Day). After two days of remembrance of those Jews and Israelis who died, there is a day of great celebration, seas of blue and white, blaring music and dancing. Thus does Israel acknowledge that its existence owes part of its raison d'etre to those victims of the Holocaust remembered today and its survival to those soldiers who died to defend it.

I would like to end the post here, but I would be remiss if I did not talk about politics a little bit. A couple of days ago, Israel assassinated Abd'al-Aziz Rantissi, the new head of Hamas, by precisely the same means as they ended the life of Sheikh Ahmed Yassin a month ago: a missile strike on a car. I think I mentioned at the time that if Israel was willing to kill Yassin and decapitate Hamas, it had better be prepared to go all the way with that strategy. Translation: Rantissi had better be next, and it had better be soon. Well, it was. Hamas, of course, vowed revenge (I think they vowed 100 revenges). Two things occur to me: one, the fact that there was no real response to the first assassination suggests that Israel was indeed at least somewhat prepared for this new phase of the war, because all you have to do is check Haaretz to know that the terrorists try to do something several times a day. And two, I think that at this point this is the proper strategy for Israel. It's not as if when Sheikh Yassin's car exploded Hamas said, "Oooh! We were just pretending before, but we REALLY hate you now! Just you wait!" Please. The efficacy of Israel's actions are evident in the fact that Hamas named it's new leader but, after his two predecessors were exterminated, refused to publicize his identity. This, fortunately, will not be an effective stopgap. Israel has the best intelligence service in the world, and besides, it's not like there are a lot of candidates to choose from. It's one of a select group, and Israel knows who they are, and I'd venture to guess that each one of them is going to become a primary target in the days and weeks to come.

Parenthetically, the PA can't be too upset with the death of Rantissi--he was about as extreme as they come, and was outspoken against the PA.

Providing the backdrop for all of this is Ariel Sharon's proposed Gaza pullout. While driving, there were men at traffic lights doing one of two things: selling Israeli flags in preparation for Yom Ha'atzma'ut (their proliferation is palpable, by the way) or handing out bumper stickers (a primary means of political expression here) that said, "The IDF warns: The evacuation of the settlements is a victory for terror." Maybe so, maybe not--If Israel continues its campaign of targeted killing of terrorist leaders, it's not going to feel very much like a victory to them. They'll rhetorically turn it into one, of course, but we may also find that in Gaza, when it's under Palestinian control, Hamas will be forced to moderate its stance. I just hope Sharon has the courage, once he withdraws, to both remain withdrawn and to allow Gaza to open to the outside world (of course controlling the border with Israel, but allowing passage to and from the strip from Egypt and the Mediterranean). Gaza is not self-sufficient--it's poor, dry, and hot. If Israel leaves and keeps Gaza a prison, all it will do is foment more terrorists. If, on the other hand, Israel allows it to open and the Palestinians see an improvement in their lives, they'll loathe to give it up regardless of their ideology. I worry that if Sharon hopes to strangle the Palestinians into submission, there will be many more people we have to remember one year from now. It is not on his agenda--he's concerned with disengagement above all else--but if the evacuation has the side effect of turning Gaza into an example of social and economic improvement, then progress will be made and the blue and white flags can fly even higher next year.
- posted by @ 3:29 PM

 
Hey Daroma!
Our tiyulim continue.

Last week we started looking into taking a trip to Eilat, Israel's resort town on the Red Sea. We went with Elana's cousin Liat, who also had the time off: I've been looking forward to seeing Eilat again--it's a lot of fun (no pun intended).

Before I can tell you about the trip, however, I feel it necessary to give a little geography lesson for those of you who don't know what the deal is. Israel is a tall, thin country, bounded by Egypt, the Mediterannean Sea, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, the Dead Sea and the Red Sea. The entire southern half of Israel is desert, and it comes to a point at the Red Sea in the south: Israel has about ten kilometers of coastline on the Gulf of Eilat/Aqaba, and along the coast is the city of Eilat.

What this means is, to get to Eilat, we had to drive through about four hours of desert that puts Death Valley to shame.

The Negev desert is sandy, dry, desolate, and hot; the sun actually blares. When I was on Kibbutz in 1996, my class and I did a weeklong hike in the northern Negev, around the Makhteshim (craters); I felt at that time that I had forgotten what trees looked like. The mountains of Jordan rise over the Arava and the Negev, black and yellow; they look (if such a thing is possible) even more parched than the desert itself. I had my concerns, obviously, about the car, but the Shtinker gave us no problems. If it can pass through the desert, as it did, I am newly confident that it can pass through anything this tiny country has to offer. This is the desert where the Jews wandered for forty years (not exactly, but the Sinai looks the same); a little south is Mecca, where Muhammad did his own wandering and musing. As an aside, it's pretty easy to see how monotheism formed in the desert amongst nomads as opposed to anywhere else: polytheists, and especially the polytheists of the Middle East, worshipped idols, and the nomads had to carry their idols around. It wouldn't surprise me at all if the gods just got smaller and smaller and smaller as time went on--to make them easier to carry in a wickedly unforgiving hard place--and, honestly, who would notice if the idol of "Sanjeb the Smiling" got left behind at the last oasis? They'd probably notice whoever was carrying "Sanjeb" around suddenly, under the lighter burden, had a huge smile on his face. But I digress.

The drive was long; it was spectacular and boring all at once, and the road curves dangerously sharply in a couple of places near Dimona (where, incidentally, Israel's nuclear reactor is located--you can see it from the road, but it's fenced off and looks so secure that I doubt they let lizards in). We got to Eilat around three in the afternoon, and headed straight for the city's most famous non-beach attraction, the aquarium. Located off the coast of the southernmost point of Israel (only a couple of kilometers from the Taba border crossing into Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula), the aquarium affords a great underwater view of a city of corals and the multitudes of fish that inhabit them. On land, the complex exhibits turtles and tortoises, sandbar sharks, and other fish.

After thoroughly exploring the complex we made our way to the city center, where our hotel was located. It was not as nice as we had hoped, but after a few minutes rearranging the furniture in the room into a more comfortable configuration, we decided we could live there for two nights. We were exhausted--alternating between the desert and anything air conditioned (like a car, aquarium, or hotel, for example) saps energy right out of you. We relaxed in the hotel for about an hour before heading out to get some dinner. We found an Indian restaurant about half a kilometer from our hotel. Something seemed strange when we walked in, and it took me a moment to realize what it was: no security. I'd gotten quite used to a pass with the metal detector, a search through the bag, and even the occasional frisking before entering any sort of public place. Not here. There has never been a terrorist attack in Eilat (which doesn't mean it's definitely not going to happen, I know). The desert does quite a good job discouraging attacks, as does the fact that most of the people in Eilat (or at least a significantly large percentage) are foreigners. It was quite nice to just eat a meal. We followed it up with a walk on the promenade, which has a bunch of shops and restaurants and a great view of the sea, Aqaba (the resort on the Jordanian side), and the northern Hijaz mountains of Saudi Arabia.

The next day was full. We got ourselves up and immediately went out to the beach, where Elana and I bought ourselves an introductory scuba dive. In Eilat in 1996, I had done the same thing, and this one didn't seem quite as good, perhaps because my guide seemed interested in finishing as quickly as possible. Elana's guide, on the other hand, helped her play with something that looked like a giant black caterpillar on the sea floor. The fish were out in force, of course. After scuba diving, we drove a little further south on the beach to the famous coral beach, where we tanned (and burned only a little) and snorkled. This was much more spectacular--there was a wall of coral about 12 feet high, and the fish were even more plentiful here than they had been for the scuba dive. Here we came to appreciate just how much protection the wetsuits had offered, and this led to a pretty amusing scene when Elana, Liat and I first entered the water: a combination of the cold, the sharp rocks on the bottom (which convinced us to hire some flippers) and the slippery moss caused Elana and I to fall all over each other as we fought to get ourselves out of the frigid water.

We were beached out after that (we'd been in the sun for eight hours or so), and after another session of relaxing at the hotel we went to dinner at a Mexican place (again without a guard) which was phenomenal. Our waitress was great; she brought us free guacamole and drinks under her early assertion that since we were her only table at that time, she was going to spoil us. The food was great (and is worthy of a return trip when we go back to Eilat): I think Liat put it best when, asked by her mother how the food was, she replied, "I'd never eaten food before."

That night we returned to the promenade and sat at a bar with tables on the beach and chatted for a good long while before returning to our room. The next morning we basically got up and left, with no desire to return to the beach with our light sunburns (why make it worse?). In all, it was a really nice vacation, well worth the trouble of a desert roundtrip, especially if you can find a good deal. I recommend it if you should ever find yourself in Israel, as many of you shall.

We're currently in Jerusalem, and heading back to Ashdod tomorrow before the break ends on Sunday morning. More exciting news: my parents are coming in June! More updates as news arises. I appreciate your readership.
- posted by @ 8:13 PM

 
Osim Chaim
We've been having fun in Ashdod and out of it. Pesach was a lot of fun; Eden said one of the funniest things I've ever heard. While Grisha was telling the story of the Exodus from Egypt and explained how the Jews had left without much food, and had gone into the desert, Eden piped up and said, "They had a picnic!" It was very funny, and Eden looked immeasurably pleased with herself.

The next day we took a day trip to Caesaria, which is up the coast from Ashdod. This is, of course, the ancient Roman city (the "Caesar" in "Caesaria" should have been a big clue). There was an amphitheatre, a coliseum, and a large assortment of various ruins. One thing we like about Israeli historical sites is that you are allowed to wander amidst the ruins; in America, one gets the feeling that you would have to look down on the whole thing from behind a rope.

Anyway, that's about it from here. My posting will remain infrequent for a while, but it's mainly because we're having too much fun.
- posted by @ 6:14 PM

 
False Start
Right. So, we didn't go to Romania after all.

It's a long, strange story, but to put it in simple terms: Elana's grandparents were unpleasantly surprised by Bucharest, how poor and run-down and "warzone-like" it was, and about three hours before we were to leave for the airport, they called us from there and told us not to come. They had some quite unfortunate experiences there, which fortunately caused no harm in the long run. So, a little stunned but not terribly disappointed, we waited in Ashdod for another two days until they arrived, which was yesterday. We picked them up at the airport last night and came back here to Ashdod. It's been fantastic to see them, and I'd lay money that we're having a better time here, amongst (much) family than we would have had in Bucharest amongst strangers.

This morning I drove back to Jerusalem myself to take care of a bit of business: to return the tickets (which was not a problem) and to check on the apartment. Satisfied that all was in good order, I made my way back (it's about an hour each way, but I'd rather say I drove half the width of the country twice today), and since then we've all been sitting and talking and walking and relaxing and just generally basking in the company.

So, I apologize to those of you who awaited my now-cancelled blog entry, "1001 Romanian Nights." But, in the end, I think that this Pesach break is going to be better than that one would have been. So my apology is made with the caveat that I'm not REALLY sorry, at all.

Chag Sameach and we wish much warmth, comfort, and a never-ending supply of joy to you all.
- posted by @ 9:44 PM