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Saturday, November 21, 2009
The End of an Era (or just three months)
A farewell, quickly, as I'm leaving Israel tomorrow morning. At 8:30 AM, my friend Sandra and I will take a bus from Nazareth to Amman, and fly to Cairo in the evening. After 5 days in Egypt, we'll spend another 5 in Jordan before I fly to India for two weeks, then finally to Taiwan. It's been an incredible few months here, with more stories and experiences I can ever put in words, with more friends and places to miss and look forward to seeing again soon. Especially the time on the farm was so eye-opening, inspiring, life-changing...I am already aching a bit to be back. On that note, here are a couple of last entries which sum up the depth and intensity of the last month. Not sure when I'll be posting again, but as always, much love to all, peace and take care.
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Beginning at the Farm
Wow--this is really old, but important enough to me to share here. This is a journal entry from my first day on the goat farm...(click on it for it to be readable!)
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Thursday, October 15, 2009
Farewell, Rabi Meir Street
I moved out of the apartment on Thursday, which was a much sadder occasion than I expected. Lots of good memories there, and it of course signifies that change is soon to come. This will be my last week interning in Tel Aviv, which is ridiculous...time! Where did you go? 7 weeks in Tel Aviv, and I have become attached...the other night I took a very touristy tour of Tel Aviv's famous architecture and homes of historical leaders. I always loved the style of Tel Aviv apartments, but now I'm really addicted to looking up when I walk down streets, to catch the neat designs and elements of the buildings. I also had my very last yoga class on Wednesday and said proper goodbyes to both the teacher and a graduate student who was my personal translator/yoga companion. The teacher gave the class in English for the first time, I think as a special parting gift to me. I'm glad the goodbyes are happening slowly--the ones at the hostel and Kav La'Oved will be harder next week.
The empty apartment...how depressing! 
The street we lived on, good ole Rabi Meir.
The empty apartment...how depressing! The upshot of all this is that I've picked an organic farm to work on for a month, through WorldWideOpportunities(on)OrganicFarms'ing (wwoof.org). Yes, you can use it in a sentence like, "Neat! Are you going to WWOOF as well?" I'll start next Sunday, and I can't wait. The farm I picked (and that accepted me) looks incredible!! It's a goat farm. And you must watch their little video on the website (goatswiththewind.com) and read their introduction. It will make you smile. I don't know anything about goats, except I like their cheese and they're pretty fuzzy, cute creatures. Reason enough.
On the topic of my Hebrew, a few days ago I had coffee with a friend I met through the volunteering with Chinese migrants. She's Israeli, but studied Chinese and lived in China for a year, and now is back working at Amnesty International. Needless to say, she is incredibly awesome. We went to a small coffeeshop filled with vintage furniture and cool art, and spoke English AND Chinese AND Hebrew over apple cake. It was a blast...I really was inspired by Emma, who did this with a Spanish friend of hers in Sevilla. I had no idea how it would go--if it would lag and be awkward or boring or filled with anxiety...but it was absolutely fantastic. Plus, I got to take a tour of her new apartment in Yafo (Jaffa), one of the oldest port cities in the world, with its beautiful teal wooden shutters and antique tiling in the bathroom.
So, I've said goodbye to one apartment with a fond farewell. But I've already started dreaming of the next one...
The street we lived on, good ole Rabi Meir. Tuesday, October 13, 2009
(Don't) Deport(ed) (Me)
Spending a Saturday at the New Central Bus Station in Tel Aviv is like...not being in Israel. It's the end of the weekend, the time when all the caregivers and domestic workers in the city are returning to the homes of the employers. And the Station is absolutely flooded with Indian, Sri Lankan, Filipino, Chinese and Nepalese workers...I barely saw Israelis there at all, or they were hidden among the foreign faces. It's like an entire underground population has risen out of no where. Even though I see the migrant workers all the time in the office, it was shocking to witness the massive numbers of them, momentarily stepping out of their usual invisibility.
These are some posters/street art that can be found around this area, where many of the migrants live. There are so many opinions on this: the migrants are good, bad, useful, sly, naive, smart, strong, weak. Whether or not you think they deserve to be here, to work and live and create families here, no one can deny the fact that immigration is a pressing issue in Tel Aviv. An Israeli woman told me to not forget that in my work with Kav La'Oved, I am "only seeing one side of Israel." Absolutely--it is only one side, but one I am glad to be aware of. More than that, I'm proud to be a part of the cause.
A new campaign to protect the children of migrants. These posters are everywhere--car windshields, restaurant and store windows, street corners, building walls, back of bikes...
"גירוש עכשיו" means "Deportation now!"
A new campaign to protect the children of migrants. These posters are everywhere--car windshields, restaurant and store windows, street corners, building walls, back of bikes...
"גירוש עכשיו" means "Deportation now!"
8.10.09 - 10.10.09
This is an ode to a wonderful weekend filled to the brim with seeing friends and getting to know their families. In an attempt at organization, here we go...
The Serious: Last week I had several talks with great people, and each and every time the topics of converting to Judaism and living in Israel came up (who knew that I would incite such conversations?). Whenever people ask if I'm ready to live here and become Jewish, the answer is slightly...complicated. The last two months have really opened my eyes to both aspects of Israel and Judaism I love and value (i.e. family, tradition, lifestyle) and aspects I do not always understand or accept (i.e. immigration, politics). No place is perfect, indeed. But as many friends have point-blank told me, "Israel is not an easy place to live." A friend from Cornell, a Jewish-American, told me that after two years here she still grapples with being a foreigner at times. I tell people all the time that I love Tel Aviv, since it is the best place in Israel for a liberal non-Jewish Asian-American to live. True fact, but a city isn't representative of an entire country. Most days I am happy with my life here, surrounded by some of the most loving and warm people I have ever met, doing satisfying work that I am passionate about. But sometimes I am still very bothered by the fact that the country, in its foundation, sees my presence as a threat to the Jewish people. While Matan, his family, and our friends are as supportive and encouraging as possible, I need to come to terms with the fact that some people (in Israel and out) will always think that I have no right to be here. Yes, there are probably racist Americans who think that I am not a "real" American. But there's a difference between being born into a country (the US) and then actively choosing to establish a new life in a new country (Israel). And I haven't even gone into the related topics of conversion, religion, God, the army, war...so. I told you it was complicated...:)
The Less Serious: This is the first time I've lived in a city, and I adore it. Next week will be my last in Tel Aviv, which makes me a little teary already. For years I've been jealous of my city-dwelling friends. I'm glad I ended up in rural upstate NY for college, but I'm equally (if not more) glad that I moved out of there and found myself here instead. There's just this buzz that I feel so energized by, the constant movement of people, the density of individuals in one space. The overwhelming number of fascinating streets and corners, cafes, stores, galleries. It is like one big treasure hunt all the time. The apartment is located in such a central spot--I really feel the pulsing of the heart of the city. Plus, Tel Aviv just has this young, liberal, eclectic vibe, with beach-side yoga, vegan restaurants with names like "Buddha Burger," tons of NGOs, and a disproportionate number of people with tattoos of Chinese characters. Tel Aviv won my heart very quickly. BUT despite my love for this city and its beach, art, and culture...I am quite ashamed of how "loose" I've been with my wallet lately (mainly with food, honestly). URBAN LIFE IS EXPENSIVE. I want to keep living in cities. Cities are expensive. I want to keep working with NGOs. NGOs do not equate big salaries. What a dilemma.
The Not Serious: Thursday night I saw 500 Days of Summer at the Haifa International Film Festival...hehe, international American movie! I also spent a lot of the weekend with my friend Amir, meeting the family's two new kittens (one named Pascal), two new puppies (half St. Bernard), chickens and roosters, frogs, birds, garden hedgehog, Amir's awesome family, and more cats and dogs. And seeing the lychee, mango, cotton, guava, pomegranate, fig, pecan, grape, orange, etc. trees/plants on their land. Amazing. Kittens and puppies and babies (Amir has a new nephew) make the world fuzzy and happy. In another life, I really wish I could go around distributing baby animals and spreading joy and love. In case the whole NGO thing doesn't work out...I also got to have Shabbat dinner with my friend Kesem and her aunt, uncle, and awesome cousins. Dinner started with prayers and ended with chasing each other around with foam swords. Very cultural, indeed...
A funny pic I've been meaning to share--the sign, and then me, Amir, Matan and Kes.
A funny pic I've been meaning to share--the sign, and then me, Amir, Matan and Kes.Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Love-Hate List
Love:
1. The good, cheap, locally made yogurt I eat every morning.
2. Seeing a Filipina woman I worked with an Kav La'Oved at the bus station, and having her say hello because she remembered me.
3. No mice in Tel Aviv because there are too many stray cats. And seeing lots of kittens!
4. Getting invited to sit down and share a meal with our neighbor and her friends the first time we met her, purely do to the goodness of her heart.
5. Hummus.
Hate:
1. The fact I spent weeks buying over-priced yogurt because the good, cheap, locally made yogurt was in a weird looking container and shelved with the milk, not the yogurt.
2. Migrant workers who work for the same employer for 9-12 years and get paid below minimum wage without receiving any benefits they're entitled to for the last 9-12 years.
3. Seeing lots of homeless kittens.
4. The overwhelming number of awesome restaurants and cafes in the city, all of which taunt me to pull out my wallet and buy lots of delicious things.
5. Hummus up north is better than the stuff in the middle of the country. I would love to be proven wrong...on that note!
I LOVE Akko; it's a city in the north, right on the coast, with mad history (Napolean tried to conquer it). Besides being beautiful, it won my heart because 1) it's one of the only cities in Israel where Arabs and Jews peacefully live together and 2) it has the best hummus I've ever had in my life. Matan asked if I was going to take a picture of it, but I didn't because I thought it would not do the Abu Sayid hummus justice. Instead...
This is the line outside of the place. It's small, cramped, and super-speedy. You order and get your hummus within a minute. See the guy waving in line? That turned out to be Matan's cousin getting some hummus, too...
Even though we stuffed ourselves with hummus and pita, I insisted on Baklawa.
AHHH. IT'S SO DELICIOUS. Sigh...
1. The good, cheap, locally made yogurt I eat every morning.
2. Seeing a Filipina woman I worked with an Kav La'Oved at the bus station, and having her say hello because she remembered me.
3. No mice in Tel Aviv because there are too many stray cats. And seeing lots of kittens!
4. Getting invited to sit down and share a meal with our neighbor and her friends the first time we met her, purely do to the goodness of her heart.
5. Hummus.
Hate:
1. The fact I spent weeks buying over-priced yogurt because the good, cheap, locally made yogurt was in a weird looking container and shelved with the milk, not the yogurt.
2. Migrant workers who work for the same employer for 9-12 years and get paid below minimum wage without receiving any benefits they're entitled to for the last 9-12 years.
3. Seeing lots of homeless kittens.
4. The overwhelming number of awesome restaurants and cafes in the city, all of which taunt me to pull out my wallet and buy lots of delicious things.
5. Hummus up north is better than the stuff in the middle of the country. I would love to be proven wrong...on that note!
I LOVE Akko; it's a city in the north, right on the coast, with mad history (Napolean tried to conquer it). Besides being beautiful, it won my heart because 1) it's one of the only cities in Israel where Arabs and Jews peacefully live together and 2) it has the best hummus I've ever had in my life. Matan asked if I was going to take a picture of it, but I didn't because I thought it would not do the Abu Sayid hummus justice. Instead...
This is the line outside of the place. It's small, cramped, and super-speedy. You order and get your hummus within a minute. See the guy waving in line? That turned out to be Matan's cousin getting some hummus, too...
Even though we stuffed ourselves with hummus and pita, I insisted on Baklawa. AHHH. IT'S SO DELICIOUS. Sigh...
A Most Delightful Day
...occurred exactly 2 weeks ago. I have to document it here on the blog, because I don't want to forget it myself when I'm old and cranky and surrounded by my cats. It starts with a 6:20 AM alarm, because Matan is somewhat crazy and decided he needed to run. I like to run. I just don't like 6:20 alarms. But I couldn't let him out-energize me, so we had a really great run along the beach. By 9:30 AM, I was at Kav La'Oved, and I don't remember the specifics, but I helped some people, which is always a good feeling. I stayed till 3, and left the office pining for food. Israeli food. For weeks, I'd seen the constant crowd outside of Super Falafel. Oh wow, was it super...perfection. I ordered in Hebrew, to the amusement of the Falafel Man, asking for a hetzi mana, or half-order. The falafal was exquisite (and I don't say this about all falafel), crispy on the outside, but hot and soft on the inside. After finishing it on a park bench, I wandered into Halper's Bookstore, one I've been eyeing for weeks as well. It is a total maze of books, most in English--an incredible collection of fiction, history, philosophy, everything...and I even got to chat with Halper himself, who is actually quite famous in the blogging world (http://melchettmike.wordpress.com/tag/tel-aviv/). I headed back to the electricity-less apartment (we knew we'd have to pay at some point) , eating some melted vanilla ice cream for good measure. Matan's sis Nitzan met me then, and we headed over to another place I've been dying to go: 24 Rupee, a vegetarian Indian restaurant. Nitzan and I chatted over some chai until Matan met us there. The food was AWESOME, and served on the typical Indian tin plates, which I really appreciated. As you can see, the place is totally chill and relaxing. We booked it out of there to make it in time for "Not for Bread Alone," a play at the Nalaga'at Theater...the only deaf/blind theater in the world. It was an incredible show, illustrating the dreams of the 11 deaf-blind actors and actresses through sign language, morse code, dance, acting, and the process of making bread (http://www.nalagaat.org.il/bread.php).
If any of you are ever in Tel Aviv, I highly recommend this itinerary for a day...
If any of you are ever in Tel Aviv, I highly recommend this itinerary for a day...
Monday, October 5, 2009
Gilad Shalit
I found out about the story of Gilad Shalit because of the white and blue bumper stickers everywhere here. As you can see, there's an image of his face, the Israeli flag, and the words, "Welcome to the next millennium." The stickers came out 1000 days after the capture of Gilad, a means of reminding the country of his absence and the likewise hope for his return. The country has not forgotten...there is practically daily news about him in the papers and in TV.
Gilad Shalit, an Israeli soldier who is now 23 years old, was captured by Hamas in 2006 and taken into Gaza. For almost 4 years, the country has been waiting for some sign of his well-being, his life. On Sept. 30th, Israel said that it would release 20 Palestinian women accused of attempted homicide in exchange for a videotape of Gilad as proof that he was alive. The video was released to the public last Friday, October 2, around 4 PM. Those 20 women have subsequently been released.
Around that time, Matan, our friend Kesem and I were sitting at Art d'Coco, a pretty nice restaurant known for its massive assortment of desserts. A flatscreen TV was playing scenes of chocolate-making, while the waiters buzzed around serving big salads and beautiful cakes and mousses. Suddenly, before I fully realized what was happening, the TV was switched to the local channel, the volume turned all the way up. The music playing in the restaurant stopped, along with the whirring of blenders and kitchen preparation. Everyone in the place turned towards the TV, twisting to watch the clip. Mothers shushed their kids. The video played, mere minutes. But everyone was visibly touched; you could sense the somber atmosphere, mixed with some relief and suspicion as well. The video is from September 14, two weeks before.
It was a moment I will always remember because it illustrates one of Israel's strongest traits so well...the respect, value, and worth they hold for their soldiers, for their people. It was touching to witness it: collective anticipation, followed by hope. We had some great conversation that afternoon about war, the army, views on life and death, morality and ethics. I admire Kes' ability to see the bigger picture, so to speak, to serve her own country while remembering the importance of human life for all.
I encourage you to watch the video--here's a copy with English subtitles. 2 minutes 51 seconds...and then much more to ponder in your own head. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edwwLIjSWR8
Gilad Shalit, an Israeli soldier who is now 23 years old, was captured by Hamas in 2006 and taken into Gaza. For almost 4 years, the country has been waiting for some sign of his well-being, his life. On Sept. 30th, Israel said that it would release 20 Palestinian women accused of attempted homicide in exchange for a videotape of Gilad as proof that he was alive. The video was released to the public last Friday, October 2, around 4 PM. Those 20 women have subsequently been released.Around that time, Matan, our friend Kesem and I were sitting at Art d'Coco, a pretty nice restaurant known for its massive assortment of desserts. A flatscreen TV was playing scenes of chocolate-making, while the waiters buzzed around serving big salads and beautiful cakes and mousses. Suddenly, before I fully realized what was happening, the TV was switched to the local channel, the volume turned all the way up. The music playing in the restaurant stopped, along with the whirring of blenders and kitchen preparation. Everyone in the place turned towards the TV, twisting to watch the clip. Mothers shushed their kids. The video played, mere minutes. But everyone was visibly touched; you could sense the somber atmosphere, mixed with some relief and suspicion as well. The video is from September 14, two weeks before.
It was a moment I will always remember because it illustrates one of Israel's strongest traits so well...the respect, value, and worth they hold for their soldiers, for their people. It was touching to witness it: collective anticipation, followed by hope. We had some great conversation that afternoon about war, the army, views on life and death, morality and ethics. I admire Kes' ability to see the bigger picture, so to speak, to serve her own country while remembering the importance of human life for all.
I encourage you to watch the video--here's a copy with English subtitles. 2 minutes 51 seconds...and then much more to ponder in your own head. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edwwLIjSWR8
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Ins and Outs of Fasting
Monday, 28 September, 2:08 PM
It's remarkable how slowly time goes by when you don't plan your day with meals. I've never done it before, so I've never known this phenomenon. But it's only 2 PM and it feels so much later. We've spent the day so far reading a lot (ironically, I finished Lewis' On Christianity), practicing some Hebrew, looking at photos, blogging for me, and talking of course. Oh, and we read Chapter 19 titled, "Getting Serious: Yom Kippor" out of Judaism for Dummies. They sum up today as a time to "reflect on the previous year, let go of grudges, ask forgiveness from people, and see a bigger picture." Matan learned some new things, too. :)
I'm not praying, but I am thinking and reflecting on the year. We first discussed who we need to ask forgiveness from. And for me, those people are all the ones I am closest to. Because it was with them that my temper was the worst, my patience the shortest. I have hurt my parents before, and I think it's because selfishly I know they will always unconditionally love me no matter what I do. This is no new revelation by any means, but it's not something I think about regularly either. My mom just sent me an e-mail that my parents bought their tickets to go to Taiwan on October 15, leaving 3 months later. I'll arrive on December 16th, and I'm so glad we'll all be there together. As I get older, and even since I've left Cornell, I realize how valuable it is to be together when we can.
The book also included, "Yom Kippur is an ideal time to remember that all human beings make mistakes; the important thing is to continually review your life, learn and grow...By showing up and trying, you fulfill the spirit of the day." Just last night, I was having a bit of a hard time, feeling like life here is so different and foreign than anything I've known. I have high expectations for myself--to feel comfortable socially here, to establish new friendships, to have fulfilling work, to learn more Hebrew...and often I think I forget that these things don't happen in a month, or three, or even a year. It takes time to make a place for yourself somewhere new, especially somewhere as new as Israel is for me. I keep comparing life here to life at Cornell, ignoring the fact that life at Cornell when I first arrived was no picnic either. So, it's nice to get a reminder that I should struggle as a human. Goals sometimes aren't accomplished on time or as you expected, and what counts is your ambition and willpower in the end...the "bigger picture" so to speak.
Last night, after dinner, we took a walk. Matan had told me that biking is huge on Yom Kippur, and I don't think I quite understood him. Barely anyone drives on Yom Kippur, religious and secular alike. So suddenly, in the middle of Tel Aviv, there were practically no cars to be seen. I think we saw three during a 2.5 hour walk. The streets are filled with people on bikes and rollerskates, parents pushing toddlers in strollers, old couples walking hand in hand, kids on every kind of bike/tricycle/rolling thing imaginable. And everyone is just moving along in the middle of the street! We walked in the middle of a four lane highway for a while, and saw absolutely no car the entire time. It's magical--a kid's dream come true. Rotshild Blvd. was hopping with young families, dogs, kids. It is a sight worth seeing. Matan and I talked about what it would take for the US or NYC to do this for a day. It's hard to say...religion and tradition and history are strong influences. Not something you can create out of thin air.
Tuesday, 29 September, 10:57 PM
We broke fast yesterday with bread, grapes and tea at first...I felt funny afterwards, tired and groggy, like when I'm on Benadryl. I didn't expect to feel it so much, but even today I was a bit off. Matan went off to buy some more food last night for dinner, and came back with Honey Nut Cheerios and milk. It was perfect...and forever I will connect my first Yom Kippor with Cheerios!
I went to Kav La'Oved for a few hours today, but the electricity in the building went out so just about everyone went home. By chance, our friend Omer was in Tel Aviv so we ran some errands with him before having a HUGE hummus lunch at Abu-Adam's...with a shot of black coffee afterwards. Matan and I spent the rest of the day doing something we've both been meaning to...BUS-HOP. As in, get on buses without knowing where they're going, get off when we feel like it. We rode on the 4, 13, 16, 26, 27, and 28. I think that was it. 13 was the best--it took us on a huge loop all the way to North Tel Aviv, which neither of us had seen before (actually, it wasn't that exciting, as it's where all the crazy expensive apartments are). I HIGHLY recommend bus-hopping to anyone, anywhere. It was really fun, we saw so many new parts of the city, walked around Florentine (Tel Aviv's Soho supposedly) drinking chocolate milk, and finished the day off with ice cream. Believe me, it's definitely a good use of time.
It's remarkable how slowly time goes by when you don't plan your day with meals. I've never done it before, so I've never known this phenomenon. But it's only 2 PM and it feels so much later. We've spent the day so far reading a lot (ironically, I finished Lewis' On Christianity), practicing some Hebrew, looking at photos, blogging for me, and talking of course. Oh, and we read Chapter 19 titled, "Getting Serious: Yom Kippor" out of Judaism for Dummies. They sum up today as a time to "reflect on the previous year, let go of grudges, ask forgiveness from people, and see a bigger picture." Matan learned some new things, too. :)
I'm not praying, but I am thinking and reflecting on the year. We first discussed who we need to ask forgiveness from. And for me, those people are all the ones I am closest to. Because it was with them that my temper was the worst, my patience the shortest. I have hurt my parents before, and I think it's because selfishly I know they will always unconditionally love me no matter what I do. This is no new revelation by any means, but it's not something I think about regularly either. My mom just sent me an e-mail that my parents bought their tickets to go to Taiwan on October 15, leaving 3 months later. I'll arrive on December 16th, and I'm so glad we'll all be there together. As I get older, and even since I've left Cornell, I realize how valuable it is to be together when we can.
The book also included, "Yom Kippur is an ideal time to remember that all human beings make mistakes; the important thing is to continually review your life, learn and grow...By showing up and trying, you fulfill the spirit of the day." Just last night, I was having a bit of a hard time, feeling like life here is so different and foreign than anything I've known. I have high expectations for myself--to feel comfortable socially here, to establish new friendships, to have fulfilling work, to learn more Hebrew...and often I think I forget that these things don't happen in a month, or three, or even a year. It takes time to make a place for yourself somewhere new, especially somewhere as new as Israel is for me. I keep comparing life here to life at Cornell, ignoring the fact that life at Cornell when I first arrived was no picnic either. So, it's nice to get a reminder that I should struggle as a human. Goals sometimes aren't accomplished on time or as you expected, and what counts is your ambition and willpower in the end...the "bigger picture" so to speak.
Last night, after dinner, we took a walk. Matan had told me that biking is huge on Yom Kippur, and I don't think I quite understood him. Barely anyone drives on Yom Kippur, religious and secular alike. So suddenly, in the middle of Tel Aviv, there were practically no cars to be seen. I think we saw three during a 2.5 hour walk. The streets are filled with people on bikes and rollerskates, parents pushing toddlers in strollers, old couples walking hand in hand, kids on every kind of bike/tricycle/rolling thing imaginable. And everyone is just moving along in the middle of the street! We walked in the middle of a four lane highway for a while, and saw absolutely no car the entire time. It's magical--a kid's dream come true. Rotshild Blvd. was hopping with young families, dogs, kids. It is a sight worth seeing. Matan and I talked about what it would take for the US or NYC to do this for a day. It's hard to say...religion and tradition and history are strong influences. Not something you can create out of thin air.
Tuesday, 29 September, 10:57 PM
We broke fast yesterday with bread, grapes and tea at first...I felt funny afterwards, tired and groggy, like when I'm on Benadryl. I didn't expect to feel it so much, but even today I was a bit off. Matan went off to buy some more food last night for dinner, and came back with Honey Nut Cheerios and milk. It was perfect...and forever I will connect my first Yom Kippor with Cheerios!
I went to Kav La'Oved for a few hours today, but the electricity in the building went out so just about everyone went home. By chance, our friend Omer was in Tel Aviv so we ran some errands with him before having a HUGE hummus lunch at Abu-Adam's...with a shot of black coffee afterwards. Matan and I spent the rest of the day doing something we've both been meaning to...BUS-HOP. As in, get on buses without knowing where they're going, get off when we feel like it. We rode on the 4, 13, 16, 26, 27, and 28. I think that was it. 13 was the best--it took us on a huge loop all the way to North Tel Aviv, which neither of us had seen before (actually, it wasn't that exciting, as it's where all the crazy expensive apartments are). I HIGHLY recommend bus-hopping to anyone, anywhere. It was really fun, we saw so many new parts of the city, walked around Florentine (Tel Aviv's Soho supposedly) drinking chocolate milk, and finished the day off with ice cream. Believe me, it's definitely a good use of time.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
On the Topic of Water
We're back! The backpacking trip was incredible...the desert is so vast and so completely different from anything I've ever seen before. Endless and majestic, and humbling. It demands admiration, if not respect. You don't mess around in the desert...or you're going to find yourself in a pretty difficult situation. Fact of the day: carrying water is heavy. It's something I took for granted in the past--being able to find a water source like a river or lake instead of having it all on your back. But I was also rather spoiled, going with Matan and two friends, Amir and Shaked. Their packs definitely took a bit more of the load than mine.
Day 1: On Thursday morning, we started in Be'er-Sheva, shopping for food: bread, tuna, lots of canned things, coffee, chocolate wafers...chocolate spread (a beloved Israeli necessity). We took a bus to Arad, right on the edge of the Judean desert. From there, we hitchhiked to the trailhead and began. Within a couple minutes, Amir started explaining to me how deserts are made. This guy knows his stuff--he was a nature guide for a year, and just has an amazingly impressive knowledge of Israel's nature and history. It was so nice for me to have him as this personal guide on the whole trip, sharing bits and pieces of interesting facts about which animals populate the desert, how certain landscapes were formed, constellations, the history of Jewish rule, the Roman siege. He also has an appreciation for the basic pleasures of life. A couple hours in, Amir announced it was time for tea. At this point, he pulls out some plant he had picked earlier and makes a fantastic sweet tea, pouring it into four little glass cups brought specifically for this purpose. Oh luxury!
Where to next?
We reached Masada National Park right before sundown, a massive fortress located on a plateau in the desert. Masada was built strategically by King Herod as a refuge from his enemies. After his death in 4 BCE and the addition of Judea to the Roman Empire, the Romans overtook it. 60 some years later, Masada was taken back by Jewish rebels during the Great Revolt of the Jews; Masada was the last rebel stronghold in Judea. When the Romans completed their siege ramp and began attack, the Masada leaders decided on a group suicide, to die in a state of liberty and rebellion, to "let our wives die before they are abused, and our children before they have tasted slavery" (as documented by the historian Josephus Flavius). On Thursday night, we got there in time for an awesome light and sound show. Sitting on bleachers with a full view of Masada, the history of the siege and rebellion was told as a story (voices and all!) with different parts of the fortress lit with different colored spotlights. We went to bed soon after, preparing for an early morning...
A view of Masada and the Judean Desert
Day 2: We woke up at 5:20 AM (to Matan's frustration; he championed for a 5:40 alarm) to climb Masada in time for the sunrise. I was REALLY excited about this. Emma did this when she came to Israel two years ago, and it was one of her favorite parts. The place was surprisingly full of tour groups, families, and tons of school children. They were all really loud and...awake. It was a beautiful sunrise, surrounded by the crumbling stone and living history, black ravens swooping gracefully. We spent the rest of the morning exploring the different parts: cisterns, bathhouses, a Byzantine church, the old Synagogue, the two palaces, storerooms, and more. Even some of the exquisite mosaics have been preserved. We took our time, and headed out in the late morning.
Masada scene: bird on tree, men prayer, and the Israeli flag.
Day 2 was HOT. Definitely aware of being in a desert with the relentless pounding sun. But some of the views were breathtaking--huge canyons with remarkable cliffs. The day was full of these gorgeous views, and talking a lot about the differences between Chinese and Hebrew. It's only when you have to explain a language to someone else that you realize how complicated and bizarre it is. It was really fun, though, and accentuated by the guys belting out a lot of Hebrew songs throughout the day. We reached the end of the trail and hit highway 90 (oh, do I know my Israeli highways or what?) by early evening, hitchhiking again to reach Ein Gedi, some 20 minutes away.
Amir leading the way as we headed up that trail
And there was the Dead Sea. We went right into the water, and I spent the first 10 minutes freaking out. The water was so beautiful; it looked like a sheet of glass, reflecting all these hues of pink and gold and purple from the mountains at sunset. And it felt so weird! Perfectly silky and smooth, PLUS you're just sitting there, chillin', floatin'. 33.7% salinity. We also slathered ourselves in Dead Sea mud. Not so much because any of us believed in its amazing "cosmetic capabilities." More so it's really fun to have an excuse to play in mud.
Day 3: I woke up, sat up, and realized I was facing the Dead Sea straight on, the reflection of the sun nearly blinding off the water. After another delightful breakfast of bread and chocolate spread, we headed for En Gedi Nature Reserve, known for all its sweetwater springs, cliffs, and natural greenery in the middle of the desert. Parts were like Paradise...lush green tress and teal pools nestled on the edge of golden brown, sandy cliffs, with the desert spreading out beyond. It was a lazier day, less climbing and more splashing around in pools and waterfalls. It was also the day I discovered the award-winning combination of matza topped with canned vegetable spread, tuna, and onions. Somehow I'm the only one who was really impressed by this...We planned to spend the night there, but were ahead of schedule so we took a bus back to Jerusalem in the evening.
One of the En Gedi trails
Remarkable colors together, with the Dead Sea
This was only my second backpacking trip, but I'm hooked of course. I'm lucky to have a lot of friends who let me tag along. :) It was so different from the other one in Colorado, and I'm already dreaming of the next one (Taiwan has some incredible rainforests...). The company was superb, the food delicious (I love that part about camping), the nature absolutely phenomenal. We spent a lazy day yesterday recovering, eating big meals and napping and going to the beach.
So, today is Yom Kippor. I started this blog talking about water, and I should mention that while the trip included downing extreme amounts of water to stay hydrated...right now we're fasting for 24 hours, a break from both food and drink. I'll for sure be writing again today, with some reflection on the year. I'm glad for the excuse to do that. Sometimes I feel like I've been moving so fast, I've barely processed what's been going on. So, we have about 7 hours left, and I'm looking forward to the day. Not quite a trek through the Judean Desert, but a different kind of challenge...
Day 1: On Thursday morning, we started in Be'er-Sheva, shopping for food: bread, tuna, lots of canned things, coffee, chocolate wafers...chocolate spread (a beloved Israeli necessity). We took a bus to Arad, right on the edge of the Judean desert. From there, we hitchhiked to the trailhead and began. Within a couple minutes, Amir started explaining to me how deserts are made. This guy knows his stuff--he was a nature guide for a year, and just has an amazingly impressive knowledge of Israel's nature and history. It was so nice for me to have him as this personal guide on the whole trip, sharing bits and pieces of interesting facts about which animals populate the desert, how certain landscapes were formed, constellations, the history of Jewish rule, the Roman siege. He also has an appreciation for the basic pleasures of life. A couple hours in, Amir announced it was time for tea. At this point, he pulls out some plant he had picked earlier and makes a fantastic sweet tea, pouring it into four little glass cups brought specifically for this purpose. Oh luxury!
Where to next?
A view of Masada and the Judean DesertDay 2: We woke up at 5:20 AM (to Matan's frustration; he championed for a 5:40 alarm) to climb Masada in time for the sunrise. I was REALLY excited about this. Emma did this when she came to Israel two years ago, and it was one of her favorite parts. The place was surprisingly full of tour groups, families, and tons of school children. They were all really loud and...awake. It was a beautiful sunrise, surrounded by the crumbling stone and living history, black ravens swooping gracefully. We spent the rest of the morning exploring the different parts: cisterns, bathhouses, a Byzantine church, the old Synagogue, the two palaces, storerooms, and more. Even some of the exquisite mosaics have been preserved. We took our time, and headed out in the late morning.
Masada scene: bird on tree, men prayer, and the Israeli flag.I couldn't have planned it better myself!
Matan, Amir, and Shaked hanging out in a cistern
Matan, Amir, and Shaked hanging out in a cisternDay 2 was HOT. Definitely aware of being in a desert with the relentless pounding sun. But some of the views were breathtaking--huge canyons with remarkable cliffs. The day was full of these gorgeous views, and talking a lot about the differences between Chinese and Hebrew. It's only when you have to explain a language to someone else that you realize how complicated and bizarre it is. It was really fun, though, and accentuated by the guys belting out a lot of Hebrew songs throughout the day. We reached the end of the trail and hit highway 90 (oh, do I know my Israeli highways or what?) by early evening, hitchhiking again to reach Ein Gedi, some 20 minutes away.
Amir leading the way as we headed up that trail
Contemplating a Bedouin existence
And there was the Dead Sea. We went right into the water, and I spent the first 10 minutes freaking out. The water was so beautiful; it looked like a sheet of glass, reflecting all these hues of pink and gold and purple from the mountains at sunset. And it felt so weird! Perfectly silky and smooth, PLUS you're just sitting there, chillin', floatin'. 33.7% salinity. We also slathered ourselves in Dead Sea mud. Not so much because any of us believed in its amazing "cosmetic capabilities." More so it's really fun to have an excuse to play in mud.
Day 3: I woke up, sat up, and realized I was facing the Dead Sea straight on, the reflection of the sun nearly blinding off the water. After another delightful breakfast of bread and chocolate spread, we headed for En Gedi Nature Reserve, known for all its sweetwater springs, cliffs, and natural greenery in the middle of the desert. Parts were like Paradise...lush green tress and teal pools nestled on the edge of golden brown, sandy cliffs, with the desert spreading out beyond. It was a lazier day, less climbing and more splashing around in pools and waterfalls. It was also the day I discovered the award-winning combination of matza topped with canned vegetable spread, tuna, and onions. Somehow I'm the only one who was really impressed by this...We planned to spend the night there, but were ahead of schedule so we took a bus back to Jerusalem in the evening.
One of the En Gedi trails
Remarkable colors together, with the Dead SeaSo, today is Yom Kippor. I started this blog talking about water, and I should mention that while the trip included downing extreme amounts of water to stay hydrated...right now we're fasting for 24 hours, a break from both food and drink. I'll for sure be writing again today, with some reflection on the year. I'm glad for the excuse to do that. Sometimes I feel like I've been moving so fast, I've barely processed what's been going on. So, we have about 7 hours left, and I'm looking forward to the day. Not quite a trek through the Judean Desert, but a different kind of challenge...
Monday, September 14, 2009
Shana tova!
!שנה טובה
Happy new year!
新年快乐！
（I'm training my computer to be multicultural.)
A new year indeed. I have rather high hopes for it. :) I did pick a great time of year to be here, experiencing the High Holidays in all their glory. It's been awesome, especially since we got a long weekend. Highlights include a pool party, Shabbat dinner in Nahariya (so...much...food... Matan's grandma works some kind of magic in that tiny kitchen), lazily rafting the Jordan River with friends, eating insanely good kebabs, watching District 9 (who knew an alien refugee movie could be so good?), visiting the Agamon Ahula Lake for bird (and otter) watching, and getting beat pretty bad at ping pong.
A standard Jewish tradition for Rosh Hashanah is eating apples with honey to welcome in a "sweet" new year. Great idea--brilliant in fact. And this weekend of apple-eating has reminded me that it is APPLE SEASON at Cornell. Which means, though I am up to my neck in hummus and other good things, I am missing the Ithaca Apple Fest, Cornell apple cider at the dining halls, apple tasting at the Orchards, apple picking with residents, and the apple vending machine. It burns...
Updates on last week:
1. I've really enjoyed "teaching" English (helping with homework, explaining things or just chatting) to some of the Beit Ruth girls. There are a couple who have really basic English, but they want to learn so badly, and they've told me to only speak English to them when I come. It's amazing, how willing and eager they are to practice and learn more. Quite inspirational, in fact, for my Hebrew. It also makes me want to focus on teaching when I go to Taiwan, since I don't have other plans yet, and it means spending some good time around kids.
2. Last Monday night, I translated again for two Chinese men I translated for two weeks before that (now three weeks ago). Back then, they were about to go to court to get back a rather large sum their employer withheld from them. This time, though, I was told they had won the case and were sorting out final details before heading back to China. JUSTICE. It felt amazing to just watch the process, know the story, get the happy ending...I can see how satisfying the life of a lawyer could be. Er, sometimes. When the law works the way it's supposed to...
Well, lots more to say, but this was written two days ago, and I didn't get to finish it. Oh well. Matan and I are seeing our buddy Alon tonight in Be'er-Sheva, and tomorrow we head off for a three night backpacking trip in the desert/Dead Sea! I'll have mad updates soon enough.
Happy new year!
新年快乐！
（I'm training my computer to be multicultural.)
A new year indeed. I have rather high hopes for it. :) I did pick a great time of year to be here, experiencing the High Holidays in all their glory. It's been awesome, especially since we got a long weekend. Highlights include a pool party, Shabbat dinner in Nahariya (so...much...food... Matan's grandma works some kind of magic in that tiny kitchen), lazily rafting the Jordan River with friends, eating insanely good kebabs, watching District 9 (who knew an alien refugee movie could be so good?), visiting the Agamon Ahula Lake for bird (and otter) watching, and getting beat pretty bad at ping pong.
A standard Jewish tradition for Rosh Hashanah is eating apples with honey to welcome in a "sweet" new year. Great idea--brilliant in fact. And this weekend of apple-eating has reminded me that it is APPLE SEASON at Cornell. Which means, though I am up to my neck in hummus and other good things, I am missing the Ithaca Apple Fest, Cornell apple cider at the dining halls, apple tasting at the Orchards, apple picking with residents, and the apple vending machine. It burns...
Updates on last week:
1. I've really enjoyed "teaching" English (helping with homework, explaining things or just chatting) to some of the Beit Ruth girls. There are a couple who have really basic English, but they want to learn so badly, and they've told me to only speak English to them when I come. It's amazing, how willing and eager they are to practice and learn more. Quite inspirational, in fact, for my Hebrew. It also makes me want to focus on teaching when I go to Taiwan, since I don't have other plans yet, and it means spending some good time around kids.
2. Last Monday night, I translated again for two Chinese men I translated for two weeks before that (now three weeks ago). Back then, they were about to go to court to get back a rather large sum their employer withheld from them. This time, though, I was told they had won the case and were sorting out final details before heading back to China. JUSTICE. It felt amazing to just watch the process, know the story, get the happy ending...I can see how satisfying the life of a lawyer could be. Er, sometimes. When the law works the way it's supposed to...
Well, lots more to say, but this was written two days ago, and I didn't get to finish it. Oh well. Matan and I are seeing our buddy Alon tonight in Be'er-Sheva, and tomorrow we head off for a three night backpacking trip in the desert/Dead Sea! I'll have mad updates soon enough.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Justice. Art. Asian things.
I’ve written a ridiculous number of e-mails today, mainly because I have incredible friends who stun me with their humor, ambition, compassion, and insight…all contained in little packages of e-love in my gmail inbox. I wrote my friend Molly that it’s kind of Utopian, my inbox these days—no more listserv blasts, no more reminders about assignments/deadlines, but much-welcomed connections to Cornell, to home, to people and places I love all over. I am very appreciative of technology at the moment.
This view I am definitely familiar with--it's what you see from the door of the apartment. You have to go through that blue door to get out of the courtyard thing to reach the street. They just painted that building orange, and I am enamored.
The apartment door, from where I took the above picture. I love the fact that it's green and pink amidst all white. Represent. There's the 'ohm' on the door, too...
Famished, waiting for our whole pizza to arrive so it can be devoured.
Amir looks so happy--Matan and I a little more in anguish.
The beach, and crazy modern architecture, just minutes away. :)
Life in Tel Aviv is becoming more routine, which is a kind of thrill all on its own. It’s funny to me that experiencing the excitement and intrigue of a new place, a new country or city, is paired with occasional feelings of utter frustration and inadequacy. It’s very humbling, though. I am, indeed, learning constantly, and so very aware of how much I don’t know…how dependent we become on familiarity to get through the day. Some days at Cornell, I’d feel as if I was on autopilot: wake up, eat this, go to these three classes, sit here, study this, walk this path to get to this meeting, get coffee here…Stuff I could do with my eyes closed, hands tied behind my back. Now, taking the right bus or understanding a sign in a store window makes my day, gives me a feeling of accomplishment. I suppose I’m so drawn to being abroad for this reason—the challenge is so enticing, as aggravating as it can be. And believe me, I have had my fair share of aggravating moments. Matan was teaching me future tense for Hebrew over the weekend, and needless to say it was hard. Like the 6 year old I am, I abruptly got up from my chair, and flung myself onto the grass in agony. But hey, that is what we call the learning curve...
This view I am definitely familiar with--it's what you see from the door of the apartment. You have to go through that blue door to get out of the courtyard thing to reach the street. They just painted that building orange, and I am enamored.
Today was an unbelievably great day at Kav La’Oved—I got there and not surprisingly, given it’s a Sunday, the place was packed. You can barely walk through the office without jamming yourself against random people. I grabbed a calculator and pad of official stationary right away, and starting sitting down with caregivers, listening and taking notes, punching numbers into my blue calculator (I prefer these basic ones over my TI-89 any day…was it an 89?), and eventually writing out letters to their employers requesting compensation. Letters with BOTH English and Hebrew in them…HAH! It felt amazing to generally be able to answer questions, explain their legal rights, and do these calculations on my own, going to my supervisor or fellow volunteer once in a while with an obscure question. But I was flying solo most of the day, and after the 9th or 10th woman I worked with, I lost count. If you read back to last week, about how excited I was to work with two women, you can imagine how exhilarating today was! The pace is really impressive, though it seemed chaotic at first. People are always walking around, sticking their heads in, asking when it’s their turn to describe their case…there’s a buzz for sure, accentuated by all the languages bouncing about. That buzz drives the place, reflects the eagerness of the workers to get what they deserve, and the staff and volunteers to help them do it.
I spoke with an Indian woman who was waiting patiently for a couple of hours. I told her I spent last summer there, and we reminisced together for a bit. She said she liked working here, but not living here—it’s too different from home, the customs and culture still so foreign to her. She plans to leave within 6 months. I told her she must be excited to go home, and she smiled at me, shrugged and said, “Money is not everything for life.” So simple, so basic of a concept. But I couldn’t agree more. I keep thinking about how I meet the most interesting and warm people at these organizations, and how much I admire and respect them. Because, indeed, money doesn’t drive them to do this work…it’s their fundamental belief in the cause. Of course, I’m still in this idealistic stage of youthful faith that justice and passion is all you need to survive. Isn’t it great to be young?! Then again, living in a city for the first time is teaching me a thing or two about the price (quite literally) of urban existence.
The apartment door, from where I took the above picture. I love the fact that it's green and pink amidst all white. Represent. There's the 'ohm' on the door, too...As for other news, September is the Month of Art (ARTLV—clever, no?) for Tel Aviv/Yafo’s 100th Birthday. On Thursday night, Nitzan and I hit up a contemporary art exhibit opening, then the lovely museum of Israeli artist Reuben Rubin, met Matan to see the gorgeous house of famous Jewish poet Bialick (which included free little pastries and champagne), and then went over to the Tel Aviv Museum of Art (quite an impressive collection, if I may say so). A couple Matisses with Degas and Gaugin will make my day any night. And it was all free! Afterward, Matan and I sat at an outside sushi bar around midnight worshiping the exquisite combination of salmon and avocado.
Beautiful Rubin painting of the Knerret, or the Sea of Galilee. Very reminiscent of Chagall sometimes, the whimsy, but it may just be the Jewish association as well.
I’ve uncovered not only a Chinese grocery store (a bit pricey, but they carry the type of noodles my mom buys in Denver), but a corner butcher’s shop bearing the proud sign, “Kingdom of Pork: Factory Price Here.” I have not been, but it’s only a matter of time, really. As for other Asian things, I’ve started going to a yoga class once a week, a 10 minute walk away in a fantastic little studio. And last night, Matan, our old buddy Alon and I met a Japanese guy and a Chinese guy at a bar. They eagerly informed us that their friend is probably the only Taiwanese guy at Tel Aviv University.
Oh, globalization...
And, due to popular demand, more photos!
And, due to popular demand, more photos!
Famished, waiting for our whole pizza to arrive so it can be devoured.Amir looks so happy--Matan and I a little more in anguish.
Check it! Sand camels in lightbulbs! How can you not love modern art?
The beach, and crazy modern architecture, just minutes away. :)
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Learning a New Trick
Today is most definitely a day that needs to be personally processed via writing. Mainly because…(suspense builds)…I worked with two migrant women today, all by myself! I arrived at the Kav La’Oved office, and my supervisor was like, “Ready? OK? You can be on your own?” And I said yes, if with a bit of hesitation and self-doubt. But that’s the best way to learn. I jumped right in, so to speak…
The first woman I spoke with is from India; her employer died (an elderly Israeli she was caring for) and the family is unwilling to pay severance/separation pay and prior notice pay, both of which she deserves. So, armed with my calculator and white-out (which was quite handy), I summed up the amounts she was entitled to and explained them to her. She really wanted to know what each calculation was, which makes sense considering she was a math teacher in India. Before we finished our session, I found out she had been getting paid below the legal salary for working on Shabbat, her off day. When I asked her if she wanted me to include it in the calculation of her rights, she said, “No…no…ze beseder [it’s OK]…my employer very poor…little money…ze beseder.” She said they treated her like family, so she didn’t want to stir up any more trouble than necessary. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me found it so kind and generous of her, but also weak and sad in some way. But unlike some other workers I’ve met, she knew exactly what she deserves and what her rights are. She was just choosing this path for personal reasons.
Right afterwards I worked with a woman from the Philippines, who was fired after a fight with her employer. She was really distraught, and teared up as we spoke. She’s returning to the Philippines, disappointed it has to be under such conditions. When she asked me where I was from, and I said US, she looked at me with a puzzled face and said, “No, where? Philippines? China?” This is pretty common now…the US has just a Utopian reputation in the world, people here find it hard to believe why I would choose to leave the US. I wrote up her rights and compensation on Kav La’Oved letterhead, which a staff member checked over for me. No mistakes! There’s sweet satisfaction in getting a new skill down…I also loved being useful today. Not just watching, or learning, but really actively helping. Oh, productivity. Old habits die hard.
Again, I met some of the other volunteers: awesome. They are so willing to help me and explain any complicated parts, even teaching me the phrases for “severance pay” and “annual vacation” in Hebrew so I can write compensation letters in both languages. One of the volunteers did a tour of the US with his best friend when he was young, hopping from CA to Vegas to NYC. It’s hilarious to me that people “tour the US” in the way Em and I “toured Europe”! You never think of your home like that. Another Israeli I met yesterday also said, “You’re from Colorado! As soon as I get the chance to go to the US, I’m going to Colorado…” I fully supported him in that plan (not surprisingly, he’s a skier and climber). I also chatted with a volunteer who spent 30 years of her life as a teacher and elementary school principal. Besides talking about the importance of elementary education (I have Bear Creek to thank for much of who I am today), we talked a lot about China. Israelis love China. It’s one of the travel hotspots these days, and I learned last night that there are some authentic (if overpriced) Chinese restaurants here. And today I saw a woman on the street buying a lampshade, one covered in random Chinese characters.
Speaking of China, last night was the weekly open hours at Kav La’Oved for Chinese workers. We heard through the grapevine that masses of Chinese men have been leaving Israel this month, so many that it’s getting hard to buy the tickets to fly home to China. Turns out it’s because of a rather severe lack of information. Visas that were supposed to expire on September 30th of this year have been extended to the end of December across the country for Chinese workers; no exceptions. But the Chinese workers have no idea about this, though the government was supposed to announce it and spread the news. Police officers have told some of them they have to leave this month, even though our office has official documents saying they can stay longer. It’s tragic to think about workers leaving their jobs, fleeing, because they were not properly informed. The full story is still a bit of a mystery…
So, my friend Beth from Cornell spent a semester in Florence last year. And I remember her telling me that at one point, the constant amazement of being in an incredible place wore down a little. She’d walk by the Duomo and not be engrossed in its beauty and grandeur, but rather she was frustrated that the tourists were making her morning walk to class take longer…I totally had this moment this morning. The main market we live by is a tourist attraction, and this French couple was taking their sweet, old time strolling down it. And I felt my frustration bubble up inside me—I needed them to move! That thought made me smile, and think of Beth’s story.
On a completely random note: Americans have completely butchered the pronunciation of the phrase “Mazel tov.” Why do we always find it so necessary to Americanize any foreign phrase and make it sound as American as possible? Like “croissant” and “lo mein.” If you ever listen to the song “I’ve got a feeling” by Black Eyed Peas, listen for the line, “Fill up my cup—Mazel Tov.” Mah-zel Tohv. Not Mazil tav. Really, people. Get your act together.
The first woman I spoke with is from India; her employer died (an elderly Israeli she was caring for) and the family is unwilling to pay severance/separation pay and prior notice pay, both of which she deserves. So, armed with my calculator and white-out (which was quite handy), I summed up the amounts she was entitled to and explained them to her. She really wanted to know what each calculation was, which makes sense considering she was a math teacher in India. Before we finished our session, I found out she had been getting paid below the legal salary for working on Shabbat, her off day. When I asked her if she wanted me to include it in the calculation of her rights, she said, “No…no…ze beseder [it’s OK]…my employer very poor…little money…ze beseder.” She said they treated her like family, so she didn’t want to stir up any more trouble than necessary. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me found it so kind and generous of her, but also weak and sad in some way. But unlike some other workers I’ve met, she knew exactly what she deserves and what her rights are. She was just choosing this path for personal reasons.
Right afterwards I worked with a woman from the Philippines, who was fired after a fight with her employer. She was really distraught, and teared up as we spoke. She’s returning to the Philippines, disappointed it has to be under such conditions. When she asked me where I was from, and I said US, she looked at me with a puzzled face and said, “No, where? Philippines? China?” This is pretty common now…the US has just a Utopian reputation in the world, people here find it hard to believe why I would choose to leave the US. I wrote up her rights and compensation on Kav La’Oved letterhead, which a staff member checked over for me. No mistakes! There’s sweet satisfaction in getting a new skill down…I also loved being useful today. Not just watching, or learning, but really actively helping. Oh, productivity. Old habits die hard.
Again, I met some of the other volunteers: awesome. They are so willing to help me and explain any complicated parts, even teaching me the phrases for “severance pay” and “annual vacation” in Hebrew so I can write compensation letters in both languages. One of the volunteers did a tour of the US with his best friend when he was young, hopping from CA to Vegas to NYC. It’s hilarious to me that people “tour the US” in the way Em and I “toured Europe”! You never think of your home like that. Another Israeli I met yesterday also said, “You’re from Colorado! As soon as I get the chance to go to the US, I’m going to Colorado…” I fully supported him in that plan (not surprisingly, he’s a skier and climber). I also chatted with a volunteer who spent 30 years of her life as a teacher and elementary school principal. Besides talking about the importance of elementary education (I have Bear Creek to thank for much of who I am today), we talked a lot about China. Israelis love China. It’s one of the travel hotspots these days, and I learned last night that there are some authentic (if overpriced) Chinese restaurants here. And today I saw a woman on the street buying a lampshade, one covered in random Chinese characters.
Speaking of China, last night was the weekly open hours at Kav La’Oved for Chinese workers. We heard through the grapevine that masses of Chinese men have been leaving Israel this month, so many that it’s getting hard to buy the tickets to fly home to China. Turns out it’s because of a rather severe lack of information. Visas that were supposed to expire on September 30th of this year have been extended to the end of December across the country for Chinese workers; no exceptions. But the Chinese workers have no idea about this, though the government was supposed to announce it and spread the news. Police officers have told some of them they have to leave this month, even though our office has official documents saying they can stay longer. It’s tragic to think about workers leaving their jobs, fleeing, because they were not properly informed. The full story is still a bit of a mystery…
So, my friend Beth from Cornell spent a semester in Florence last year. And I remember her telling me that at one point, the constant amazement of being in an incredible place wore down a little. She’d walk by the Duomo and not be engrossed in its beauty and grandeur, but rather she was frustrated that the tourists were making her morning walk to class take longer…I totally had this moment this morning. The main market we live by is a tourist attraction, and this French couple was taking their sweet, old time strolling down it. And I felt my frustration bubble up inside me—I needed them to move! That thought made me smile, and think of Beth’s story.
On a completely random note: Americans have completely butchered the pronunciation of the phrase “Mazel tov.” Why do we always find it so necessary to Americanize any foreign phrase and make it sound as American as possible? Like “croissant” and “lo mein.” If you ever listen to the song “I’ve got a feeling” by Black Eyed Peas, listen for the line, “Fill up my cup—Mazel Tov.” Mah-zel Tohv. Not Mazil tav. Really, people. Get your act together.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Calculation of Your Rights
For the past months and weeks, I’ve been working on my application for the Fulbright Fellowship to study Gender and Social Policy in London next year. Since 40% of people who live in Inner London were born outside of the UK, I want to specifically focus on migrant women and the subsequent discrimination and sexism they face in their new life. It’s been remarkable to work at Kav La’Oved with migrant women in Israel—exactly the reason I wanted to take this year and gain real, practical experience in the field. I’m learning so, so much at such a pace…not only policy and numbers and regulations, but how it emotionally and psychologically affects these women. One woman might be treated like a member of the family, while another paid mere dollars an hour and banned from taking days off. So many work so hard to pay off their debt from coming here, only to be left unemployed and at risk for becoming illegal within weeks. I’m equally inspired and guilt-ridden at times, both in awe of their strength and courage, and ashamed my life is so full of privilege in comparison. But I definitely feel a passion for this cause. If I had to re-do college, I might be an ILRie! (Adrien, relax…I know you’re probably cheering right now…)
Last week I talked to three women from the Philippines. When I asked them why they chose Israel out of all places, one woman said, “You know, we’re Christians—we thought the best place to work in the world would be the Holyland.” Another chimed in, “Yeah, but even if the land is holy…the people aren’t!”, referencing her employer who had been withholding paychecks. Matan and his sister Nitzan and I discussed this the other night—how true that many people must see this country as being one of success and wealth, a country of redemption where you might just finally get what you deserve…and how disappointing it is to realize no place on earth is that perfect, that just. These women I meet are smart, sharp, college-educated. A woman yesterday who was fired with one hour’s notice broke down in tears, saying it wasn’t the money that mattered, but how badly she had been treated by her employer. She has a degree in economics, but is paid more as a caregiver in Israel than in an office in the Philippines. The three women all openly acknowledged the fact that Israel is forward-thinking, modern country in many ways. There is gender equity, and laws to provide for workers, even if they’re illegal. But for Asians, they said, there is not mobility, just open discrimination when it comes to work. Several Israelis in the office agreed. It’s something I still debate in my mind. Israel’s purpose as a country is to be a safe haven for Jews. But where are the lines drawn? Is it racist or discriminatory to deny rights to migrants who have lived here for over 30 years, when Jews can gain citizenship in months or years? My stance changes all the time, depending on the day, the place, the people I’m around. It’s OK for now, but I wonder if I’ll ever have a set perspective on this…
I love being in the Kav La’Oved office—it’s a cacophony (yes! I always enjoy using this word when applicable) of languages, a bit of Romanian and Russian here, Filipino and Nepalese there, with someone on the phone in Arabic, Spanish or French in the next room. The stories are so diverse, so unique to each individual. Rwandan refugees, Sri Lankans seeking work, legal, illegal, single or with families, young and old…I consistently get asked when I’m in the office if I’m a migrant, and if I need help. I guess in some ways I am. I relate to them in some ways—but at the same time, I know our lives are worlds apart. Over the weekend, the door across the courtyard from ours was open, and I could see and hear a Chinese soap opera playing inside. Finally, I ran into the tenants: two Chinese women from Shanghai, who are now caregivers for elderly Israelis. They were surprised to hear why I chose to be here when I’m a “wealthy American” with so many other choices. They said it’s hard to be here, far from home, in a country that is vastly different from China. And for a second, we could relate on that level—the simple feeling of being a foreigner.
The people who work at the office are so passionate, on their toes, fighters for their clients…another volunteer is the wife of a US Embassy guy, from Honduras and full of stories of her own. The secretary is a young guy, G, who is doing a year of service instead of joining the army because of his political views. We talked for a bit, and when I asked him about his hobbies, he said, “Well, protesting. Lots of things.” I’m glad I have a new friend in him! (And an invitation to the next “Israeli Young Left” meeting…) This other Moldovan woman was a blast to work with, so willing to explain things to me and make sure I wasn’t confused. Yesterday, one of the staff members, Y, pelted me with questions about caregiver rights, and then called in a Filipino woman and said to me, “OK, Angie. Now you’re me. Start asking her questions.” And then and there, with my heart going a thousand beats per second, I started helping this woman figure out her rights and compensation deserved. It was a HIGH stress day, plenty of mistakes, plenty of frustration. The language barrier creates huge challenges, since the worker is already anxious and has a specific goal in mind, and the staff member is trying to understand the situation and ask the right questions. So the staff member might say, over and over again, “What is your monthly salary?” And the worker just keeps replying, “No holidays. Work on holidays, no pay…” A few times, I saw staff members remind each other to take a deep breath and stay calm…
On a lighter note, last night I watched the sunset over the water after a swim. I looked to my right, and there were the huge beachside Tel Aviv hotels, shiny and modern in the twilight with restaurants glowing in neon lights, surrounded by palm trees. To my left, there was the beach trailing off into historic Yaffo, a little glittering white fortress. It was comical to me at the moment, the contrast of the two. Then again, I’m starting to get used to that in this country.
Last week I talked to three women from the Philippines. When I asked them why they chose Israel out of all places, one woman said, “You know, we’re Christians—we thought the best place to work in the world would be the Holyland.” Another chimed in, “Yeah, but even if the land is holy…the people aren’t!”, referencing her employer who had been withholding paychecks. Matan and his sister Nitzan and I discussed this the other night—how true that many people must see this country as being one of success and wealth, a country of redemption where you might just finally get what you deserve…and how disappointing it is to realize no place on earth is that perfect, that just. These women I meet are smart, sharp, college-educated. A woman yesterday who was fired with one hour’s notice broke down in tears, saying it wasn’t the money that mattered, but how badly she had been treated by her employer. She has a degree in economics, but is paid more as a caregiver in Israel than in an office in the Philippines. The three women all openly acknowledged the fact that Israel is forward-thinking, modern country in many ways. There is gender equity, and laws to provide for workers, even if they’re illegal. But for Asians, they said, there is not mobility, just open discrimination when it comes to work. Several Israelis in the office agreed. It’s something I still debate in my mind. Israel’s purpose as a country is to be a safe haven for Jews. But where are the lines drawn? Is it racist or discriminatory to deny rights to migrants who have lived here for over 30 years, when Jews can gain citizenship in months or years? My stance changes all the time, depending on the day, the place, the people I’m around. It’s OK for now, but I wonder if I’ll ever have a set perspective on this…
I love being in the Kav La’Oved office—it’s a cacophony (yes! I always enjoy using this word when applicable) of languages, a bit of Romanian and Russian here, Filipino and Nepalese there, with someone on the phone in Arabic, Spanish or French in the next room. The stories are so diverse, so unique to each individual. Rwandan refugees, Sri Lankans seeking work, legal, illegal, single or with families, young and old…I consistently get asked when I’m in the office if I’m a migrant, and if I need help. I guess in some ways I am. I relate to them in some ways—but at the same time, I know our lives are worlds apart. Over the weekend, the door across the courtyard from ours was open, and I could see and hear a Chinese soap opera playing inside. Finally, I ran into the tenants: two Chinese women from Shanghai, who are now caregivers for elderly Israelis. They were surprised to hear why I chose to be here when I’m a “wealthy American” with so many other choices. They said it’s hard to be here, far from home, in a country that is vastly different from China. And for a second, we could relate on that level—the simple feeling of being a foreigner.
The people who work at the office are so passionate, on their toes, fighters for their clients…another volunteer is the wife of a US Embassy guy, from Honduras and full of stories of her own. The secretary is a young guy, G, who is doing a year of service instead of joining the army because of his political views. We talked for a bit, and when I asked him about his hobbies, he said, “Well, protesting. Lots of things.” I’m glad I have a new friend in him! (And an invitation to the next “Israeli Young Left” meeting…) This other Moldovan woman was a blast to work with, so willing to explain things to me and make sure I wasn’t confused. Yesterday, one of the staff members, Y, pelted me with questions about caregiver rights, and then called in a Filipino woman and said to me, “OK, Angie. Now you’re me. Start asking her questions.” And then and there, with my heart going a thousand beats per second, I started helping this woman figure out her rights and compensation deserved. It was a HIGH stress day, plenty of mistakes, plenty of frustration. The language barrier creates huge challenges, since the worker is already anxious and has a specific goal in mind, and the staff member is trying to understand the situation and ask the right questions. So the staff member might say, over and over again, “What is your monthly salary?” And the worker just keeps replying, “No holidays. Work on holidays, no pay…” A few times, I saw staff members remind each other to take a deep breath and stay calm…
On a lighter note, last night I watched the sunset over the water after a swim. I looked to my right, and there were the huge beachside Tel Aviv hotels, shiny and modern in the twilight with restaurants glowing in neon lights, surrounded by palm trees. To my left, there was the beach trailing off into historic Yaffo, a little glittering white fortress. It was comical to me at the moment, the contrast of the two. Then again, I’m starting to get used to that in this country.
Stranded in the Apartment
2 September 2009
12:36 PM
I continue to be amazed, and somewhat in shock, at how much has happened in my life since I arrived here. Overwhelmed is the only word that truly encompasses how I feel, which is funny since I’ve been to Israel before. I think it comes down to the fact that in the past three years, when I’m in the US, school and work and all that are usually great… but there’s the constant distance from Matan. And then the times I’ve visited Matan here, it’s so wonderful to be close to him, but I often get to this place where I’m restless due to my lack of productivity and the kind of dependence I would feel. But in the last week, I’ve been so, so happy on so many levels—not only being with Matan, but seeing old friends here, feeling comfortable, getting around on my own, speaking Hebrew when I can and, most significantly, starting to intern at these two incredible non-profits.
The first one is called the Jaffa Institute; within the organization, they run a program called Beit Ruth, which is in essence a safehouse for 11 at-risk teenage girls with histories of sexual or physical abuse, homelessness, prostitution, etc. I visited the “hostel,” as they call it, in January, and spent a day with them, and it was easily one of the most meaningful experiences I have had in this country. The staff and girls were so warm and welcoming to me, even though I was this completely random student from the US who just arrived on their doorstep. By the time I left that day, I had promised some of these girls I would come back again. And I am so thrilled I’m here with the opportunity to fulfill that promise…the Jaffa Institute has assigned me the project of developing a new set of publications and marketing materials about Beit Ruth to bolster their new fundraising campaign, mainly focused on American funders. This means I’ll be spending at least a couple days a week at the hostel, talking to the girls, writing about their stories. In addition, the Institute is builing a new website about Beit Ruth, so I’ll be able to contribute there as well.
Yesterday I went to the Western Wall Tunnels with nine of the girls, stepping on 2,000 year old stone walkways while simply reconnecting with them in a slurry of English and elementary Hebrew, listening to Michael Jackson and eating bagele. When we returned at the end of the day to the hostel, I had just woken up from a nap on the bus, and groggily stepped into the blinding sun. Suddenly, right in front of me was another girl who lives in the hostel. She didn’t make the “field trip” with us because yesterday was the first day of school, and her first day returning back to public school after only homeschooling at the hostel. We both screamed and hugged and kissed, and repeated the sequence. This is a girl I met once, last January, but became a friend in 10 minutes or less. That visit, we sat together at a table and talked for so long, finally resorting to drawing pictures and looking up words in a dictionary because of her limited English and my limited Hebrew. But nevertheless, we found a way to discuss our families, our hobbies, our views on God, war, relationships. She was positively beaming when I asked her how her first day of school went. Her uncontainable smile was perfect proof of the amazing work Beit Ruth does for these girls. It gives them a chance to gain their confidence, build self-esteem, move beyond their pasts to dream bigger. R, the director of the hostel (who also happens to have headed the Commission for Women in their Israeli government for two terms, instigated the first academic research on domestic violence in the country, and helped found the first safehouses for battered women…she’s pretty much unbelievable), told me more anecdotes about the hostel as we drove back to Tel Aviv, stories that are so far from the childhood I had and the neighborhood I grew up in. Unimaginable conditions and circumstances in the world, in the lives of people, children, who have done absolutely nothing to deserve it.
The next gigantic project of Beit Ruth is to open a “Residential and Educational Village for Teenage Girls at-Risk”—this will more or less be a boarding school/campus of sorts for 200 girls, including residential buildings, academic and activity buildings, and dining and recreation areas as well. They have received $7 million from one US couple, and are trying to raise another million before they begin building it. Simply being a part of the organization at this point is so exciting, when they are on the brink of creating something impactful and significant for the country. The staff, I must say, is made up of compassionate and genuine individuals who love their job, and love the girls they work with. Within 5 minutes of being in the Jaffa Institute office earlier this week, I had been thoroughly hugged and kissed by several staff members, making it feel more like a family reunion than meeting with my supervisors…
The other organization is called Kav La’Oved, which means “Worker’s Hotline”—they provide legal representation, counsel, and aid to migrant workers in Israel, including manual laborers, caretakers/domestic workers, and Arab workers as well. Twice a week I’ll be there to help workers calculate their rights in English during open hours. For example, for a caregiver, minimum wage for one month is 3,850 NIS (New Israeli Shekel) for a full time job, which is 20.7 NIS per hour. For any work over 8 hours, they are entitled to overtime pay which is an additional 25% for the first two hours and 50% more for any hour after the first two hours. They are legally allowed 36 continuous hours of work off per week. If they work on their rest day, they should get 150% of their daily wages (minimum of 231 NIS) plus another rest day…I have in front of me 4 pages of such regulations and rights, which also cover housing, holidays, recuperation pay, severance pay, health insurance, pension, pregnancy, agency fees, etc…it’s a little intimidating right now because it’s SO much, but it feels good to be learning a lot at this speed. I’ll also be going in once a week to help translate during Chinese open hours. Chinese migrants are concentrated in the manual labor field, with 99% of them men. I sat in last Monday as an Israeli lawyer reviewed the case of a Chinese worker, with another Kav La’Oved volunteer translating. The Chinese man, before and after sitting down with the lawyer, told me how frustrating it is to go through these consultations, because the Israeli volunteers understandably struggle with the Chinese, even if they’ve studied it for many years, and sometimes it takes a long time to convey a thought or a concern so that both parties understand. But I don’t speak Hebrew nearly enough to understand a lawyer use legal terms to then translate that to Chinese…so I'm helpful and useless at the same time.
That’s another major theme…if I ever want to seriously work here and create a career for myself, I absolutely need to speak Hebrew fluently. Maybe if I was working with computers or financial systems it would be different; but I want to work with people and so the ability to communiate is the foundation for doing that successfully. I’m not worrying about it right now—I think that’s a relatively healthy outlook right now.
Some random other things:
1. Caregivers and maids here are most commonly Asians, mainly from Nepal, the Phillipines and Sri Lanka (also some Chinese, but less). I learned this during my first visit, when the parking man asked Matan’s sister if I was their maid. Anyways, since then I’ve noticed that when I walk by an Asian-looking woman who is accompanying an elderly Israeli person, 95% of the time she’ll openly stare at me. I always smile, and then usually they smile back. It’s a very bizarre feeling to be in a place where the people who look most like you are most likely of a lower SES than everyone else, and have come here without their families because they simply needed to make money in a place with jobs. Asians in the US have been more successful in assimilating…but here, and as I saw in Spain, it’s so much more obvious that Asian migrants have limited social and class mobility.
2. To me, for some reason, being able to take the bus (successfully!) in a foreign country is always a huge climactic cause for joyful celebration. India and Israel and even parts of Europe have been prime examples. I think it’s because buses exist for the people who live there—it’s not meant to be a tourist draw, or accomodation. So being able to navigate and claim independence in that manner deserves attention .
3. Last year, we were able to pick lemons off the lemon tree in Matan’s backyard up north, in Kfar Vradim (Village of Roses). This time, I was able to eat figs and grapes that are growing right there in their yard. HOW INSANE. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fresh fig before that. They are ridiculously sweet, almost like corn syrup or something.
4. Hummus and falafel and olive oil and olives = heaven. Here again, I would use the world overwhelming. It is overwhelmingly good.
5. On my flight over here, I met a bunch of American guys who are spending a year or more in Israel studying at a yeshiva. One guy was awesome—we were talking about free will and faith and destiny at the gate in JFK, and continued chatting all the way to Tel Aviv. He has also studied Buddhism, Hinduism, philosophy and more, so I can truly appreciate his choice of religion and lifestyle because he sounded extremely open-minded, aware, and self-reflective. Another guy I sat next to from Zurich to Tel Aviv was extremely conservative, religiously and politically, and quite outspoken. In fact, he asked me at one point why would I choose to go to Israel, since I’m simply not wanted here…wouldn’t I feel more comfortable in China? In the beginning, I found it all rather fascinating, and the discussion was really enlightening and new for me. But after a while, I was just biting my lip non-stop, trying not to explode…especially once we started talking about Israel and Palestine. Some of the things he said stung a little, but it was hard to take him that seriously when he was being so extreme and, in my eyes, unreasonable with his arguments. Anyways, it was almost funny to arrive in Israel because Matan’s sisters and niece met me at the airport, and they are such warm and loving people. Our friends here have been awesome, as always, and the people at the non-profits, or even the fruit seller at the market, are friendly, welcoming and eager to hear where I’m from and what I’m doing here. So more than ever, I am noticing the diversity of thought and belief in this one tiny country, the spectrum of viewpoints people take on Judaism, politics, war and peace. And while I still struggle with how I want to be connected with this country, and how I relate to Judaism and Israeli politics and so on…I’m just glad that most of our friends, and Matan, happen to be secular or atheist. Because, well, let’s just say I definitely would not be here if he was that religious…
News of the Day!
We moved into our apartment last night, AKA our living situation for 6 weeks. That’s a pretty short amount of time to call something ours, but we’re paying rent so I guess that’s how it works. I am in love with it, with the neighborhood, with the way it’s been furnished. In a couple minutes, you can walk to Shuk Hacarmel, the largest market in Tel Aviv; in less than FIVE to the beach with the clear, warm Mediterranean Sea water. The area is right by the crossroads of Alenbby, Sheinkin and Hamelech George, known for its shopping, bars, and young vibe. Every time I’ve told an Israeli where the apartment is, there is some kind of ooing and ahhing, followed by me smiling proudly. The girl who’s renting it to us is traveling in India before the start of classes in mid-October. Done deal: I love her taste. Yesterday, when I first got here, I just sat and evaluted the curtains, the chairs, the desk, the paintings, the bowls and plates…and came to the conclusion that just about everything in this apartment I would pick myself. For example, in the middle of the room there is a yellow skychair, Indian elephants hang in the kitchen (I have the same ones at home), one of those mini bamboo plants sits on the coffee table, and there is a cat who chills outside on the porch area. Yes, there is a porch. The door has an “ohm” charm stuck to the front. That's the neighborhood below:
Unfortunately, I’ve had rather bad luck with that door. Which explains why I am writing a monstrosity of an entry right now. I tried to lock the door this morning around 10 AM, and instead broke the key in half. So I’ve been stranded here for the day—Matan will pick up a spare from someone when he finishes his day, which is usually around 7 or 7:30 PM. Let’s hope this was a one-time incident…
OK, I better get some other things done. Thanks for reading this! You deserve a prize.
12:36 PM
I continue to be amazed, and somewhat in shock, at how much has happened in my life since I arrived here. Overwhelmed is the only word that truly encompasses how I feel, which is funny since I’ve been to Israel before. I think it comes down to the fact that in the past three years, when I’m in the US, school and work and all that are usually great… but there’s the constant distance from Matan. And then the times I’ve visited Matan here, it’s so wonderful to be close to him, but I often get to this place where I’m restless due to my lack of productivity and the kind of dependence I would feel. But in the last week, I’ve been so, so happy on so many levels—not only being with Matan, but seeing old friends here, feeling comfortable, getting around on my own, speaking Hebrew when I can and, most significantly, starting to intern at these two incredible non-profits.
The first one is called the Jaffa Institute; within the organization, they run a program called Beit Ruth, which is in essence a safehouse for 11 at-risk teenage girls with histories of sexual or physical abuse, homelessness, prostitution, etc. I visited the “hostel,” as they call it, in January, and spent a day with them, and it was easily one of the most meaningful experiences I have had in this country. The staff and girls were so warm and welcoming to me, even though I was this completely random student from the US who just arrived on their doorstep. By the time I left that day, I had promised some of these girls I would come back again. And I am so thrilled I’m here with the opportunity to fulfill that promise…the Jaffa Institute has assigned me the project of developing a new set of publications and marketing materials about Beit Ruth to bolster their new fundraising campaign, mainly focused on American funders. This means I’ll be spending at least a couple days a week at the hostel, talking to the girls, writing about their stories. In addition, the Institute is builing a new website about Beit Ruth, so I’ll be able to contribute there as well.
Yesterday I went to the Western Wall Tunnels with nine of the girls, stepping on 2,000 year old stone walkways while simply reconnecting with them in a slurry of English and elementary Hebrew, listening to Michael Jackson and eating bagele. When we returned at the end of the day to the hostel, I had just woken up from a nap on the bus, and groggily stepped into the blinding sun. Suddenly, right in front of me was another girl who lives in the hostel. She didn’t make the “field trip” with us because yesterday was the first day of school, and her first day returning back to public school after only homeschooling at the hostel. We both screamed and hugged and kissed, and repeated the sequence. This is a girl I met once, last January, but became a friend in 10 minutes or less. That visit, we sat together at a table and talked for so long, finally resorting to drawing pictures and looking up words in a dictionary because of her limited English and my limited Hebrew. But nevertheless, we found a way to discuss our families, our hobbies, our views on God, war, relationships. She was positively beaming when I asked her how her first day of school went. Her uncontainable smile was perfect proof of the amazing work Beit Ruth does for these girls. It gives them a chance to gain their confidence, build self-esteem, move beyond their pasts to dream bigger. R, the director of the hostel (who also happens to have headed the Commission for Women in their Israeli government for two terms, instigated the first academic research on domestic violence in the country, and helped found the first safehouses for battered women…she’s pretty much unbelievable), told me more anecdotes about the hostel as we drove back to Tel Aviv, stories that are so far from the childhood I had and the neighborhood I grew up in. Unimaginable conditions and circumstances in the world, in the lives of people, children, who have done absolutely nothing to deserve it.
The next gigantic project of Beit Ruth is to open a “Residential and Educational Village for Teenage Girls at-Risk”—this will more or less be a boarding school/campus of sorts for 200 girls, including residential buildings, academic and activity buildings, and dining and recreation areas as well. They have received $7 million from one US couple, and are trying to raise another million before they begin building it. Simply being a part of the organization at this point is so exciting, when they are on the brink of creating something impactful and significant for the country. The staff, I must say, is made up of compassionate and genuine individuals who love their job, and love the girls they work with. Within 5 minutes of being in the Jaffa Institute office earlier this week, I had been thoroughly hugged and kissed by several staff members, making it feel more like a family reunion than meeting with my supervisors…
The other organization is called Kav La’Oved, which means “Worker’s Hotline”—they provide legal representation, counsel, and aid to migrant workers in Israel, including manual laborers, caretakers/domestic workers, and Arab workers as well. Twice a week I’ll be there to help workers calculate their rights in English during open hours. For example, for a caregiver, minimum wage for one month is 3,850 NIS (New Israeli Shekel) for a full time job, which is 20.7 NIS per hour. For any work over 8 hours, they are entitled to overtime pay which is an additional 25% for the first two hours and 50% more for any hour after the first two hours. They are legally allowed 36 continuous hours of work off per week. If they work on their rest day, they should get 150% of their daily wages (minimum of 231 NIS) plus another rest day…I have in front of me 4 pages of such regulations and rights, which also cover housing, holidays, recuperation pay, severance pay, health insurance, pension, pregnancy, agency fees, etc…it’s a little intimidating right now because it’s SO much, but it feels good to be learning a lot at this speed. I’ll also be going in once a week to help translate during Chinese open hours. Chinese migrants are concentrated in the manual labor field, with 99% of them men. I sat in last Monday as an Israeli lawyer reviewed the case of a Chinese worker, with another Kav La’Oved volunteer translating. The Chinese man, before and after sitting down with the lawyer, told me how frustrating it is to go through these consultations, because the Israeli volunteers understandably struggle with the Chinese, even if they’ve studied it for many years, and sometimes it takes a long time to convey a thought or a concern so that both parties understand. But I don’t speak Hebrew nearly enough to understand a lawyer use legal terms to then translate that to Chinese…so I'm helpful and useless at the same time.
That’s another major theme…if I ever want to seriously work here and create a career for myself, I absolutely need to speak Hebrew fluently. Maybe if I was working with computers or financial systems it would be different; but I want to work with people and so the ability to communiate is the foundation for doing that successfully. I’m not worrying about it right now—I think that’s a relatively healthy outlook right now.
Some random other things:
1. Caregivers and maids here are most commonly Asians, mainly from Nepal, the Phillipines and Sri Lanka (also some Chinese, but less). I learned this during my first visit, when the parking man asked Matan’s sister if I was their maid. Anyways, since then I’ve noticed that when I walk by an Asian-looking woman who is accompanying an elderly Israeli person, 95% of the time she’ll openly stare at me. I always smile, and then usually they smile back. It’s a very bizarre feeling to be in a place where the people who look most like you are most likely of a lower SES than everyone else, and have come here without their families because they simply needed to make money in a place with jobs. Asians in the US have been more successful in assimilating…but here, and as I saw in Spain, it’s so much more obvious that Asian migrants have limited social and class mobility.
2. To me, for some reason, being able to take the bus (successfully!) in a foreign country is always a huge climactic cause for joyful celebration. India and Israel and even parts of Europe have been prime examples. I think it’s because buses exist for the people who live there—it’s not meant to be a tourist draw, or accomodation. So being able to navigate and claim independence in that manner deserves attention .
3. Last year, we were able to pick lemons off the lemon tree in Matan’s backyard up north, in Kfar Vradim (Village of Roses). This time, I was able to eat figs and grapes that are growing right there in their yard. HOW INSANE. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fresh fig before that. They are ridiculously sweet, almost like corn syrup or something.
4. Hummus and falafel and olive oil and olives = heaven. Here again, I would use the world overwhelming. It is overwhelmingly good.
5. On my flight over here, I met a bunch of American guys who are spending a year or more in Israel studying at a yeshiva. One guy was awesome—we were talking about free will and faith and destiny at the gate in JFK, and continued chatting all the way to Tel Aviv. He has also studied Buddhism, Hinduism, philosophy and more, so I can truly appreciate his choice of religion and lifestyle because he sounded extremely open-minded, aware, and self-reflective. Another guy I sat next to from Zurich to Tel Aviv was extremely conservative, religiously and politically, and quite outspoken. In fact, he asked me at one point why would I choose to go to Israel, since I’m simply not wanted here…wouldn’t I feel more comfortable in China? In the beginning, I found it all rather fascinating, and the discussion was really enlightening and new for me. But after a while, I was just biting my lip non-stop, trying not to explode…especially once we started talking about Israel and Palestine. Some of the things he said stung a little, but it was hard to take him that seriously when he was being so extreme and, in my eyes, unreasonable with his arguments. Anyways, it was almost funny to arrive in Israel because Matan’s sisters and niece met me at the airport, and they are such warm and loving people. Our friends here have been awesome, as always, and the people at the non-profits, or even the fruit seller at the market, are friendly, welcoming and eager to hear where I’m from and what I’m doing here. So more than ever, I am noticing the diversity of thought and belief in this one tiny country, the spectrum of viewpoints people take on Judaism, politics, war and peace. And while I still struggle with how I want to be connected with this country, and how I relate to Judaism and Israeli politics and so on…I’m just glad that most of our friends, and Matan, happen to be secular or atheist. Because, well, let’s just say I definitely would not be here if he was that religious…
News of the Day!
We moved into our apartment last night, AKA our living situation for 6 weeks. That’s a pretty short amount of time to call something ours, but we’re paying rent so I guess that’s how it works. I am in love with it, with the neighborhood, with the way it’s been furnished. In a couple minutes, you can walk to Shuk Hacarmel, the largest market in Tel Aviv; in less than FIVE to the beach with the clear, warm Mediterranean Sea water. The area is right by the crossroads of Alenbby, Sheinkin and Hamelech George, known for its shopping, bars, and young vibe. Every time I’ve told an Israeli where the apartment is, there is some kind of ooing and ahhing, followed by me smiling proudly. The girl who’s renting it to us is traveling in India before the start of classes in mid-October. Done deal: I love her taste. Yesterday, when I first got here, I just sat and evaluted the curtains, the chairs, the desk, the paintings, the bowls and plates…and came to the conclusion that just about everything in this apartment I would pick myself. For example, in the middle of the room there is a yellow skychair, Indian elephants hang in the kitchen (I have the same ones at home), one of those mini bamboo plants sits on the coffee table, and there is a cat who chills outside on the porch area. Yes, there is a porch. The door has an “ohm” charm stuck to the front. That's the neighborhood below:
Unfortunately, I’ve had rather bad luck with that door. Which explains why I am writing a monstrosity of an entry right now. I tried to lock the door this morning around 10 AM, and instead broke the key in half. So I’ve been stranded here for the day—Matan will pick up a spare from someone when he finishes his day, which is usually around 7 or 7:30 PM. Let’s hope this was a one-time incident…
OK, I better get some other things done. Thanks for reading this! You deserve a prize.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The Pursuit of Material Gain and Pleasure
Welcome back!
That's to you, dear reader and friend, and to myself. It's been about a year since I've written in my blog, and I have decided officially to commence once more (thanks for the encouragement, Mary). It feels good, and at this point, I'm eager to motivate myself to do anything that involves reading or writing or intellectual stimulation. Some part of my post-graduate self fears a downward spiral into ignorance and laziness. So a bit of blogging will at least soothe the transition from crazed college student to...er, crazed ex-student!
I leave tomorrow morning at 8:50 AM for Chicago to celebrate my cousin's wedding and see some old friends and lots of family, and then head over to NYC for a few days for more friends and family (and Chinatown) before flying out to Tel Aviv on Wednesday, Aug. 26. Needless to say, in my less-than-24 hours left in Boulder I have a TON to do--namely, edit fellowship applications, pack, do my laundry, and so on...instead, I went on a long run in the mountains behind my house this morning (I know, so spoiled am I), ate crepes with nutella and strawberries, drank chai out of my beloved Indian tea cups, and then skimmed a tour book on Israel and made notes.
In addition to how thrilled I am to be seeing Matan, catching up with old friends, eating Israeli hummus, and interning in Israel with some incredible non-profits IN ONE WEEK, I've decided it is critical I take advantage of these months to travel and explore all parts of the country and the West Bank. I thought, you know, it might be smart to read the Tel Aviv section since that's where I'll be for the first 2 months. So, without further ado, a passage from the introduction of Tel Aviv:
"Tel Aviv is about the pursuit of material gain and pleasure...boundless, bustling infectious energy...Tel Aviv is hedonistic while Jerusalem is holy. Tel Aviv is sexy while Jerusalem is sacred." --Insight Guides Israel
Well, then. Obviously, for anyone who vaguely knows me, I strive to live in places known for their material gain, pleasure, and degree of sexiness. Clearly. This made me laugh out loud--but I will not deny the fact that I am thrilled to be out of Ithaca, and in a real, live city overflowing with music, art, nightlife, and a rather vicious pace of living. Matan, in a feat of pure brilliance, found an apartment right next to Ha-Karmel, the biggest and best market in Tel Aviv, unbelievably close to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. And the fact that I am working for non-profits with just and social missions makes me feel justified to live in a place of supposed material pleasure and gain. So there.
So this first entry isn't that special or exciting, but it's a beginning.
That's to you, dear reader and friend, and to myself. It's been about a year since I've written in my blog, and I have decided officially to commence once more (thanks for the encouragement, Mary). It feels good, and at this point, I'm eager to motivate myself to do anything that involves reading or writing or intellectual stimulation. Some part of my post-graduate self fears a downward spiral into ignorance and laziness. So a bit of blogging will at least soothe the transition from crazed college student to...er, crazed ex-student!
I leave tomorrow morning at 8:50 AM for Chicago to celebrate my cousin's wedding and see some old friends and lots of family, and then head over to NYC for a few days for more friends and family (and Chinatown) before flying out to Tel Aviv on Wednesday, Aug. 26. Needless to say, in my less-than-24 hours left in Boulder I have a TON to do--namely, edit fellowship applications, pack, do my laundry, and so on...instead, I went on a long run in the mountains behind my house this morning (I know, so spoiled am I), ate crepes with nutella and strawberries, drank chai out of my beloved Indian tea cups, and then skimmed a tour book on Israel and made notes.
In addition to how thrilled I am to be seeing Matan, catching up with old friends, eating Israeli hummus, and interning in Israel with some incredible non-profits IN ONE WEEK, I've decided it is critical I take advantage of these months to travel and explore all parts of the country and the West Bank. I thought, you know, it might be smart to read the Tel Aviv section since that's where I'll be for the first 2 months. So, without further ado, a passage from the introduction of Tel Aviv:
"Tel Aviv is about the pursuit of material gain and pleasure...boundless, bustling infectious energy...Tel Aviv is hedonistic while Jerusalem is holy. Tel Aviv is sexy while Jerusalem is sacred." --Insight Guides Israel
Well, then. Obviously, for anyone who vaguely knows me, I strive to live in places known for their material gain, pleasure, and degree of sexiness. Clearly. This made me laugh out loud--but I will not deny the fact that I am thrilled to be out of Ithaca, and in a real, live city overflowing with music, art, nightlife, and a rather vicious pace of living. Matan, in a feat of pure brilliance, found an apartment right next to Ha-Karmel, the biggest and best market in Tel Aviv, unbelievably close to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. And the fact that I am working for non-profits with just and social missions makes me feel justified to live in a place of supposed material pleasure and gain. So there.
So this first entry isn't that special or exciting, but it's a beginning.
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