!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.
Monday, September 14, 2009
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.
Friday, August 15, 2008
india followed me home
i know my title says the indian summer only lasted until 13 aug, but i think you'll forgive me for writing one more final post. plus, today is india's independence day (and tushar's birthday!) and that deserves props, no?
These gorgeous girls came to say goodbye before my flight. thank you, thank you, thank you everyone who had the chance to stop by--i loved one last roundup in the 37 house--and thanks to those who called as well...it was so sweet. the girls gave me a t-shirt, this one that im wearing, that says, "i'm blessed!" on it, and it couldn't be more true. manveer, mansi, ganda, and megha: i honestly will never forget the drive to the airport, threats of U-turns, and sad english (canadian!) songs. the way you stayed with me up until the very end, and as i turned around, there were your beautiful faces.
in line at security at chandigarh, a blonde woman turned to me and said, "oh! you're from aiesec!" she's not a member, but she knows all about it and told me how she met some people who were going to holland, and she suggested getting in touch with aiesec. yup, i was wearing my "largest club in the world" t-shirt. hah! brand recognition, kids.
evidence that india found its way into my luggage (literally and not) and traveled with me on my way back to the us:
1. on my flight to delhi, i met seo woo, a korean christian filmmaker. (again, for the 4th time, seated next to a religious person--first from la to hong kong, then tel aviv to new york, then denver to frankfurt, then chandigarh to delhi. is this a conspiracy?) he showed me all of his photos of india and we conversed in very broken english, and he translated for me what joe, from south korea, wrote in my goodbye book. he himself wrote something, which joined the throng of multilingual entries.
2. at check-in at delhi, i met three fantastic indian women who were coming to cornell for their MAs in engineering! they were so sweet, and we were on the same flight. we separated after landing in nyc, but ran into each other again at port authority for the cornell bus. we sat together the entire ride up...great girls, i've already gotten invitations to dinner! (thank god, that means my love affair with indian food will continue...)
3. i sat next to a university of michigan math education phd student on the flight back, very nice guy who wanted to know how i felt about geometry. (answer: positively. more than calculus)
4. i watched "life on a metro" on the flight back, a bollywood movie about (surprise!) love. i recommend it, along with tarzan, p.s. i love you, and AUGUST RUSH. which was amazing. i want to watch it again...wow, what a beautiful movie.
5. the customs guy was super nice, asked me where i had been this summer, what i had been doing, he was very curious and gave me such a warm welcome home. i like customs when they are not corrupt/evil.
6. by the time we reached north campus (where i live), there were only two of us left. the driver yelled out to me when we got there, "this is you, angie?!" and i was thinking, "wait, how does he know my name??" turns out the indian girls told him. anyways, we were chatting, and it turns out he lived in mumbai for 2 years and goes just about every summer. we agreed (even though i never visited) that mumbai indeed has beautiful beaches and women (so i hear).
7. as i unpacked, i listened to the CD Sahil made me before i left. it's GREAT, man! thanks so much...you just had to throw in those sappy goodbye songs, didnt you? :)
8. my co-RA anish (we manage a floor together) is indian, spent the summer in goa, and has copies of "om shanti om" and "jaane tu" in his room. i. am. excited. (and he has indian sweets in his room, this was meant to be)
9. we watched the olympics on wed night with anshul and some of his ra friends and ate dried mangoes....from hawaii. and then anish and i argued with dan (who is filipino) over if filipino or indian mangoes are better.
10. at our first day of training, i met an indonesian and promptly said, "kamu ganteng!" as he burst out laughing. i hope that didn't come across the wrong way...i told him two of my best friends this summer are indonesian, too. :)
11. i met alicia, who has studied abroad in india, and gone again for traveling. we talked about the fact that you have to go back. obviously once is not enough....
12. and the coolest person i met yesterday is a girl from jaipur who flipped out when she heard i was in her homeland this summer. we have plans to hang out again sometime, and i'm excited...the entire time we were supposed to be doing this activity, we were talking about india.
this photo is dedicated to nith and kristina, two people who know how to appreciate a proper sunrise or sunset. it isn't a great one, but it's from my window this morning back at school. i thought of you two right away and as cliche as that is, i think its a good thing. if you ever catch a stellar one, i expect photos (cause we all know you two are so on top of that...).
a nice goodbye present from india...that event that @chandigarh put on was, as i said, a HUGE success and got awesome press! you all have no idea how much i smiled when i saw this, to see all of your smiling faces. one last note to the LC: you guys made my experience so, so wonderful, you were there with me every step of the way, only a phone call away...literally. i miss being in the office, seeing you jabbering away on your cells phones outside the door, answering your enthused punjabi hellos, riding into the sunset on your scooters, hugs and high-fives, that mix of so many languages at once in the office. keep up the good @ work, we will back here as well--and we'll get some of you over here, ya? and no joke, 6 years tops, kids, im expecting those wedding invitations.
and no, not because i care about you finding true love.
(just kidding, i care about you, too)
10 things i really love about being home:
1. clean water, out of the tap
2. cornell apples and cornell dining
3. running this morning in the cool, clear, clean air
4. salad. leafy, green, fresh salad
5. real squirrels! not those chipmunk things india calls squirrels
6. moving into a new place
7. calling my parents anytime
8. meeting up with old friends, and making loads of new ones at training
9. fast internet connection
1o. not being stared at
10 things i really miss about india:
1. the trainees, the trainee house, fitting 9 trainees in an auto
2. the @ers and their craziness
3. mangoes. duh.
4. hindi bollywood music everywhere
5. cows
6. being really hot. im actually cold here, it confuses me
7. the ice cream cart guy who trespassed a lot with bountiful offers of ice cream
8. did i say the trainees??
9. the colors
10. the voice of the man selling vegetables in the morning outside our house
some further proof that indians/eps to india/india has followed me home:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TUSHAR! (and india...)
it seems that india has followed me home.
i was not happy to leave, i spent the last final hours in delhi trying to soak it up as much as possible. but it surprised me that as we flew over new york city, the golden light on those skyscrapers...i was happy to be home. and i have met/encountered an unreal number of indian people since landing in jfk. maybe i am just paying more attention, or maybe (gasp, manveer!) it's the secret at work. well, probably not.
it seems that india has followed me home.
i was not happy to leave, i spent the last final hours in delhi trying to soak it up as much as possible. but it surprised me that as we flew over new york city, the golden light on those skyscrapers...i was happy to be home. and i have met/encountered an unreal number of indian people since landing in jfk. maybe i am just paying more attention, or maybe (gasp, manveer!) it's the secret at work. well, probably not.
in line at security at chandigarh, a blonde woman turned to me and said, "oh! you're from aiesec!" she's not a member, but she knows all about it and told me how she met some people who were going to holland, and she suggested getting in touch with aiesec. yup, i was wearing my "largest club in the world" t-shirt. hah! brand recognition, kids.
evidence that india found its way into my luggage (literally and not) and traveled with me on my way back to the us:
1. on my flight to delhi, i met seo woo, a korean christian filmmaker. (again, for the 4th time, seated next to a religious person--first from la to hong kong, then tel aviv to new york, then denver to frankfurt, then chandigarh to delhi. is this a conspiracy?) he showed me all of his photos of india and we conversed in very broken english, and he translated for me what joe, from south korea, wrote in my goodbye book. he himself wrote something, which joined the throng of multilingual entries.
2. at check-in at delhi, i met three fantastic indian women who were coming to cornell for their MAs in engineering! they were so sweet, and we were on the same flight. we separated after landing in nyc, but ran into each other again at port authority for the cornell bus. we sat together the entire ride up...great girls, i've already gotten invitations to dinner! (thank god, that means my love affair with indian food will continue...)
3. i sat next to a university of michigan math education phd student on the flight back, very nice guy who wanted to know how i felt about geometry. (answer: positively. more than calculus)
4. i watched "life on a metro" on the flight back, a bollywood movie about (surprise!) love. i recommend it, along with tarzan, p.s. i love you, and AUGUST RUSH. which was amazing. i want to watch it again...wow, what a beautiful movie.
5. the customs guy was super nice, asked me where i had been this summer, what i had been doing, he was very curious and gave me such a warm welcome home. i like customs when they are not corrupt/evil.
6. by the time we reached north campus (where i live), there were only two of us left. the driver yelled out to me when we got there, "this is you, angie?!" and i was thinking, "wait, how does he know my name??" turns out the indian girls told him. anyways, we were chatting, and it turns out he lived in mumbai for 2 years and goes just about every summer. we agreed (even though i never visited) that mumbai indeed has beautiful beaches and women (so i hear).
7. as i unpacked, i listened to the CD Sahil made me before i left. it's GREAT, man! thanks so much...you just had to throw in those sappy goodbye songs, didnt you? :)
8. my co-RA anish (we manage a floor together) is indian, spent the summer in goa, and has copies of "om shanti om" and "jaane tu" in his room. i. am. excited. (and he has indian sweets in his room, this was meant to be)
9. we watched the olympics on wed night with anshul and some of his ra friends and ate dried mangoes....from hawaii. and then anish and i argued with dan (who is filipino) over if filipino or indian mangoes are better.
10. at our first day of training, i met an indonesian and promptly said, "kamu ganteng!" as he burst out laughing. i hope that didn't come across the wrong way...i told him two of my best friends this summer are indonesian, too. :)
11. i met alicia, who has studied abroad in india, and gone again for traveling. we talked about the fact that you have to go back. obviously once is not enough....
12. and the coolest person i met yesterday is a girl from jaipur who flipped out when she heard i was in her homeland this summer. we have plans to hang out again sometime, and i'm excited...the entire time we were supposed to be doing this activity, we were talking about india.
and no, not because i care about you finding true love.
(just kidding, i care about you, too)
10 things i really love about being home:
1. clean water, out of the tap
2. cornell apples and cornell dining
3. running this morning in the cool, clear, clean air
4. salad. leafy, green, fresh salad
5. real squirrels! not those chipmunk things india calls squirrels
6. moving into a new place
7. calling my parents anytime
8. meeting up with old friends, and making loads of new ones at training
9. fast internet connection
1o. not being stared at
10 things i really miss about india:
1. the trainees, the trainee house, fitting 9 trainees in an auto
2. the @ers and their craziness
3. mangoes. duh.
4. hindi bollywood music everywhere
5. cows
6. being really hot. im actually cold here, it confuses me
7. the ice cream cart guy who trespassed a lot with bountiful offers of ice cream
8. did i say the trainees??
9. the colors
10. the voice of the man selling vegetables in the morning outside our house
some further proof that indians/eps to india/india has followed me home:1. dharmashala prayer flags: a tribute to that 2nd weekend trip, all the rain, and nithin's stylin', scandalous jeans.
2. letters from all of you guys, so meaningful, and they made me laugh out loud on the plane when i read them. i like how the @ers still find ways to insert "ya" into their writing. and i need a translator for the bahasa!
3. oliphant, sander. made it home safe and sound.
4. kristina, our anklets from agra, in a nice little pile
5. a bag from rishikesh, weekend 1...thivina, thanks, for fronting the 40 Rs to buy it. Natasa, you have the same one, too, i think
6. PAULINE--i miss you, roommate!! (ola, the store is amartex, you must go)
7. my chair has a dupatta.
8. spices and tea bought at my last trip to spencer's with al...
9. megha, mansi, sugunda, and priya--the lovely pink t-shirt
10. chandigarh tourism t-shirt, which makes me pro-style
11. *tear, ganda pants!!! i cinta them.
12. jaipur elephants, from my most favorite city in india, a weekend with incredible people in a beautiful city
so that's my new room, its still missing some things, but most of all...it's missing people. to the trainees: i cant even begin to describe the little things that i miss about living with you all, the constant interaction, cooking together, eating together, walking to the main road, nights out dancing, learning songs, all of our collective laundry hanging on the line, seeing monkeys and camels in the street randomly, spencer's trips, banana shakes, fruit shopping, natasa's fruit salad, chai all the time, with biscuits, ganda's singing, pauline and her hardcore business cards! the roof...
i already made a list of next summer's (anticipated) trip. cant wait to see you guys again, in nyc or elsewhere...and if you're still in hindustan, eps and @ers alike...keep living it. that place is a world of its own.
lots of love and infinite hugs,
angie
2. letters from all of you guys, so meaningful, and they made me laugh out loud on the plane when i read them. i like how the @ers still find ways to insert "ya" into their writing. and i need a translator for the bahasa!
3. oliphant, sander. made it home safe and sound.
4. kristina, our anklets from agra, in a nice little pile
5. a bag from rishikesh, weekend 1...thivina, thanks, for fronting the 40 Rs to buy it. Natasa, you have the same one, too, i think
6. PAULINE--i miss you, roommate!! (ola, the store is amartex, you must go)
7. my chair has a dupatta.
8. spices and tea bought at my last trip to spencer's with al...
9. megha, mansi, sugunda, and priya--the lovely pink t-shirt
10. chandigarh tourism t-shirt, which makes me pro-style
11. *tear, ganda pants!!! i cinta them.
12. jaipur elephants, from my most favorite city in india, a weekend with incredible people in a beautiful city
so that's my new room, its still missing some things, but most of all...it's missing people. to the trainees: i cant even begin to describe the little things that i miss about living with you all, the constant interaction, cooking together, eating together, walking to the main road, nights out dancing, learning songs, all of our collective laundry hanging on the line, seeing monkeys and camels in the street randomly, spencer's trips, banana shakes, fruit shopping, natasa's fruit salad, chai all the time, with biscuits, ganda's singing, pauline and her hardcore business cards! the roof...
i already made a list of next summer's (anticipated) trip. cant wait to see you guys again, in nyc or elsewhere...and if you're still in hindustan, eps and @ers alike...keep living it. that place is a world of its own.
lots of love and infinite hugs,
angie
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