A trailer of my new documentary feature about 8 "olim chadashim" (new immigrants) from 6 continents of the world, and the excitement and complexities of establishing a new life and identity in the thriving city of Tel Aviv, Israel.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Israeli Pesach
So I’ve had some requests to talk about Passover in the Holy Land, compared to that in the US. So I’m going to take this time to do exactly this...
The Seder
- I just want to say that my Passover seder was finished in record time. Seriously, it really helps when the native tongue is Hebrew. Reading the Haggadah for them was probably like us reading a Dr. Seuss book in front of a table of well-dressed patrons. The goal for any U.S. Jew should be finding an Israeli to lead their next seder.
- They aren’t so big about hiding the “afikomen.” They put it away, but the whole hide & seek/giving kids rewards may be more of an American addition.
- The gefilte fish is still not liked here. Although, they add a really good jelly/sweet sauce to it that made me want seconds.
- They served rice at the table. They were Ashkenazi too. The whole rice/corn issue is really only a religious practice picked up by the Ashkenazi Orthodox community here. The conservative movement decided to adopt it in the States, but most of the country, aside from the Orthodox, doesn’t follow these rules. And the thought of giving up corn syrup is not really known.
Food
- Virtually the entire country, however, does not eat bread. It doesn’t matter how religious you are, about 70% of the country gives bread up. 15% will eat bread, but out of respect, not in public. The remaining 15% don’t care. And I think that 15% is the community I live in. I live in Yafo, which is an Arab town. They serve pita in public. However, they also offer kosher for Passover options at their establishments, which is respectable. Israel passed a law years ago that forbids even non-Kosher restaurants to serve bread.
- Kosher restaurants either close over Passover week, or serve kosher for Passover food. Israel has invented a kosher for Passover bread that is made from potato starch. It doesn’t taste great, but at least it doesn’t leave crumbs everywhere and constipate you for weeks even after Passover finishes.
- Most every food items here are made to be kosher for Passover. It’s a marketing tool to label proudly that your corn chips are still, somehow, kosher for Passover. It’s marketing suicide in the States.
- They too make fried matzo. But they mash it up into almost an oatmeal, and add sugar to it. It’s quite delicious.
Traditions
- Israelis have a sedar on the first night, and a huge dinner on the last night. Everything, from the banks to the supermarket, is closed the next day, and some for the entire Passover week. This is their holiday break. Makes it really inconvenient for ill-prepared Americans like myself.
- Most families go camping. It’s spring time, and they go north to enjoy the outdoors. I too just returned from a hiking and camping trip in Tiberias. Everything is blooming, and it’s nice because they don’t have any rules about where you can and can’t camp. We set up in a meadow on top of a hill overlooking the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee. Nobody was around. But many families camp on the beaches with fires and music.
- Everybody owns the EXACT, SAME tent. Literally.
- It’s a pain to get anywhere. Either the buses don’t run, or the streets are flooded with people. The sight of it looks like an alien movie where everyone is trying to get out of town using one highway.
- Camping makes Passover easier because the food one brings on a normal camping day is the same: peanuts, canned tuna, fruit, etc. It’s not great, but it seems to go by much quicker here because everyone is in on the same traditions.
-Hummus is still on everything.
I’ll try to think of some more differences. If you have any questions, shoot them my way and I’ll try to find an answer. Otherwise, chag sameach!
The Seder
- I just want to say that my Passover seder was finished in record time. Seriously, it really helps when the native tongue is Hebrew. Reading the Haggadah for them was probably like us reading a Dr. Seuss book in front of a table of well-dressed patrons. The goal for any U.S. Jew should be finding an Israeli to lead their next seder.
- They aren’t so big about hiding the “afikomen.” They put it away, but the whole hide & seek/giving kids rewards may be more of an American addition.
- The gefilte fish is still not liked here. Although, they add a really good jelly/sweet sauce to it that made me want seconds.
- They served rice at the table. They were Ashkenazi too. The whole rice/corn issue is really only a religious practice picked up by the Ashkenazi Orthodox community here. The conservative movement decided to adopt it in the States, but most of the country, aside from the Orthodox, doesn’t follow these rules. And the thought of giving up corn syrup is not really known.
Food
- Virtually the entire country, however, does not eat bread. It doesn’t matter how religious you are, about 70% of the country gives bread up. 15% will eat bread, but out of respect, not in public. The remaining 15% don’t care. And I think that 15% is the community I live in. I live in Yafo, which is an Arab town. They serve pita in public. However, they also offer kosher for Passover options at their establishments, which is respectable. Israel passed a law years ago that forbids even non-Kosher restaurants to serve bread.
- Kosher restaurants either close over Passover week, or serve kosher for Passover food. Israel has invented a kosher for Passover bread that is made from potato starch. It doesn’t taste great, but at least it doesn’t leave crumbs everywhere and constipate you for weeks even after Passover finishes.
- Most every food items here are made to be kosher for Passover. It’s a marketing tool to label proudly that your corn chips are still, somehow, kosher for Passover. It’s marketing suicide in the States.
- They too make fried matzo. But they mash it up into almost an oatmeal, and add sugar to it. It’s quite delicious.
Traditions
- Israelis have a sedar on the first night, and a huge dinner on the last night. Everything, from the banks to the supermarket, is closed the next day, and some for the entire Passover week. This is their holiday break. Makes it really inconvenient for ill-prepared Americans like myself.
- Most families go camping. It’s spring time, and they go north to enjoy the outdoors. I too just returned from a hiking and camping trip in Tiberias. Everything is blooming, and it’s nice because they don’t have any rules about where you can and can’t camp. We set up in a meadow on top of a hill overlooking the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee. Nobody was around. But many families camp on the beaches with fires and music.
- Everybody owns the EXACT, SAME tent. Literally.
- It’s a pain to get anywhere. Either the buses don’t run, or the streets are flooded with people. The sight of it looks like an alien movie where everyone is trying to get out of town using one highway.
- Camping makes Passover easier because the food one brings on a normal camping day is the same: peanuts, canned tuna, fruit, etc. It’s not great, but it seems to go by much quicker here because everyone is in on the same traditions.
-Hummus is still on everything.
I’ll try to think of some more differences. If you have any questions, shoot them my way and I’ll try to find an answer. Otherwise, chag sameach!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Top Ten Things I've Learned About Israel
I've been here for more than 6 months now, and I've learned a thing or two about the great country of Israel.
So now I think it's a good time to share with you 10 important things to note:
10) The customer is always wrong. Even when you’re right, you’re wrong. And be prepared to get yelled at for being right.
9) A five-minute task takes a minimum of 3 hours. You feel every minute of it.
8) There is no such thing as a line. Any line that you see is made up entirely of tourists. And in the rare chance that you should be at the very front of that line, be prepared to be elbowed by a 90-year-old woman half your size.
7) Waitresses don’t believe in writing down your orders; They always mess it up too.
6) There aren’t any price tags. So if you think you’re getting a good deal, you’re not.
5) Touching a cat in Israel is like petting a raccoon in America. Don’t.
4) To enter a bar or club you need to be 18. Unless you’re an American guy, then you need to be an abstract age that is greater than what you are.
3) In the game Israelis call “basketball,” palming, traveling and foul-calling have definitions that only benefit the opponent.
2) The horn in your car is more of a status symbol than the car itself; The louder it is, the more respect you get.
1) It’s normal to wear boots and overcoats in 65 degree weather; It’s not normal to work when it rains.
So now I think it's a good time to share with you 10 important things to note:
10) The customer is always wrong. Even when you’re right, you’re wrong. And be prepared to get yelled at for being right.
9) A five-minute task takes a minimum of 3 hours. You feel every minute of it.
8) There is no such thing as a line. Any line that you see is made up entirely of tourists. And in the rare chance that you should be at the very front of that line, be prepared to be elbowed by a 90-year-old woman half your size.
7) Waitresses don’t believe in writing down your orders; They always mess it up too.
6) There aren’t any price tags. So if you think you’re getting a good deal, you’re not.
5) Touching a cat in Israel is like petting a raccoon in America. Don’t.
4) To enter a bar or club you need to be 18. Unless you’re an American guy, then you need to be an abstract age that is greater than what you are.
3) In the game Israelis call “basketball,” palming, traveling and foul-calling have definitions that only benefit the opponent.
2) The horn in your car is more of a status symbol than the car itself; The louder it is, the more respect you get.
1) It’s normal to wear boots and overcoats in 65 degree weather; It’s not normal to work when it rains.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Chaos Films Commercial
A new post is coming soon. I promise.
In the meantime, here's a commercial we shot at my company. You may particularly get a kick out of the last few seconds...
In the meantime, here's a commercial we shot at my company. You may particularly get a kick out of the last few seconds...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Mike Huckabee in Israel
Gov. Mike Huckabee (Republican who will be running in the upcoming US election) came and spoke at the Knesset about the Israel/America relationship: What it is and what it may become. What he has to say is very interesting, and it emphasizes the struggle I discussed in an earlier post about being an American Jew (notably one who is/was in support of Obama).
Jonny, one of the subjects in my aliyah documentary, hooked me up as the video guy for Knesset member Danny Danon, and to composite a short video about the Huckabee ceremony. So here it is, with introductory remarks by Danon himself:
Jonny, one of the subjects in my aliyah documentary, hooked me up as the video guy for Knesset member Danny Danon, and to composite a short video about the Huckabee ceremony. So here it is, with introductory remarks by Danon himself:
Thursday, February 4, 2010
bROke aRaBIc
On January 26th, our program ended. And since then, I’ve been homeless. And what happens when a Jew is homeless…? We wander the desert. So me and my two friends planned a trip to Jordan. Visiting a third-world Muslim state may not have been what Moses and my nomadic Jewish ancestors had in mind when they themselves wandered the desert for 40 years searching for a home for the Jews. But hey, times have changed.
We didn’t have anything planned. We knew we wanted to see Petra—the ancient city/world wonder, we wanted to visit Wadi Rum—the desert in which they filmed Lawrence of Arabia, and we wanted to stay in Amman—Jordan’s capital city. We wanted to stay in Jordan for 4 days. But, of course, nothing goes as planned.
The best way to describe our trip is to describe Jordan itself. So below, I’ve compiled a list of national “whatevers” to describe our Jordanian experience.
National Currency: The Jordanian Dinar
This little fucker is as strong as the Euro. Who would have thought? This meant that our seemingly large exchange from shekels to dinars left us with less than 100 dinars. Of course, we didn’t realize our problematic money situation until we were already well into Jordan. A 20 dinar cab ride here, a 30 dinar Turkish bath there. Before we knew it, we were pooling together coins to buy cookies for dinner. “Dinars for Dinnar” is what we called our charity drive. We needed to reconsider our options if we wanted to last more than a day in Jordan. What would Moses do?
National Slogan: “I don’t understand why not!”
It wasn’t long before this phrase emerged from our lips. And with every ridiculous circumstance that arose, it continued to naturally find its way out. The phrase was first mumbled at the gates of Petra. A friend of ours went a few weeks earlier to Petra, and told us that the entrance fee was 21 dinars. So we budgeted accordingly. However, upon arrival, they said it cost 34 dinars. We wanted to know why the sudden jump in price. At first we thought they were giving us the “American” rate. But after talking to everyone on the Petra chain of command, we finally got an explanation in English. The manager told us that as of 2010, they made a “special deal." Wait until you hear this... Before 2009, you had the option of seeing Petra on your own, which only cost 21 dinars. If you didn’t want to see it on your own, then you could pay for a horse ride and for a tour guide (which would have cost you an additional 20 dinars). But now, as of Jan. 1, 2010, it is mandatory that you pay for a horse and tour guide -- which they give you at a “special” rate of only an additional 13 dinars -- bringing the cost of admission to a mandatory 34 dinars… What kind of bass ackwards deal was this?!
“Well what if we don’t want a horse ride or guide?” we asked furiously.
“Then you don’t go,” they replied.
“But do we still have to pay for it?”
“Yes.”
“Can we go in without the horse or guide for 21 dinars?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand why not!”
And it began…
National Bird: The Middle Finger
There was no way around the Petra “special.” So we paid. But our money situation got worse. When we arrived to where the horses were, we showed them our ticket and hopped on.
There wasn’t any need for the horses. In fact, next to the horse trail was a perfectly good walkway for people that somehow got around paying into the tourist trap. But since we already paid good money, we took the ride. We were literally on the horses for 5 minutes. It was like a carnival pony ride. But instead of little kids, 3 grown men in their mid-20s were the subjects of a Jordanian circus. We got off the horses, but before we could walk away, the guys who took care of the horses stopped us. “Now you tip us,” they said. “For what?” we asked. “For the horse rides.” “No way. You didn’t do anything. And we didn’t even want to take the horse ride in the first place. Your guys up front made us.” “You tip us!” Damnet. So we looked through our dramatically thinning wallets for some money. We each gave the three horse guys a dinar each for doing nothing. We started to walk away, but they stopped us yet again. “A dinar?! Give us more. At least 2 dinars each.” We couldn’t believe it. We give these guys a tip they didn't even deserve, and they give us the middle finger in return. I’ve never been harassed as much as I was in Petra. We’re tourists, yes, but we’re also on a budget. People that truly need the money are grateful for whatever they are given. These pricks just happen to work in a giant tourist trap where they’ve learned to guilt people into paying them more than they deserve. Well we stood ground and gave them the middle finger in return by walking away.
National Dish: Quarter chicken with rice
Now, the people who work in Petra don’t represent the people of Jordan. For the most part, people are very friendly, polite and truly like you visiting their country. Granted, I wouldn’t want to walk around Jordan handing out latkes and kepahs declaring my Judaism. But as Americans, they really had no problem with us. Except for one instance, which I will soon explain.
After the first day, we had to make a decision. Given our money situation we could either go to Wadi Rum for the day and then return to Israel, giving us a whopping 36 hours in Jordan. Or, we could take our chances and go to Amman for a few days, hoping that it would be cheaper than the area around Petra. We took the chance.
Amman is a cool city. It’s poor, but it’s an interesting place to walk around in (for a short amount of time). People are on the streets screaming at each other and selling shitty items for 4 times the amount they are worth. We walked by this “shoe store” which literally consisted of a blanket on the sidewalk and old, pairless shoes sitting in a giant pile. I guess shopping there would entail picking out two mismatched shoes and then walking away feeling good about your purchase.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter what food you order there because you’re automatically getting a quarter chicken with rice. You could order a cheese pizza and you’ll be given a quarter chicken with rice. The night we stayed in Petra, the owner of the hotel was a Bedouin. We told him that we were really hungry after walking around Petra all day. He nodded at us and told us that he had a big Bedouin meal for us. He came out with a puny plate of a quarter chicken with rice.
So in Amman, we asked our hotel owner for a hearty Jordanian dish. She recommended a place that featured “mansaf,” which is Jordan’s national dish. Great, we were hungry. We got to the restaurant and ordered the mansaf. “Would you like a quarter meal or a half meal?” “Definitely a half.”
While we were waiting, we couldn’t help but notice a Jordanian man from across the restaurant staring. This wasn’t any stare, though. It was a death stare. He could have cooked a quarter piece of chicken in under 30 seconds with that stare. We kept glancing over, and then glancing away. Similar to how a young guy and girl who have a crush on one another might glance. Is that what he wanted? A relationship? Perhaps he was on J-Date. Username: ObamaFan#1. No, but seriously he was about to kill us.
We were starving and felt uncomfortable, so the half order of mansaf couldn’t have come soon enough. The national dish was revealed and… bloody hell! It was a quarter chicken with rice.
Many things didn’t go our way. The hotels that promised heat were 35 degrees. The hotel that promised cable had only one channel – Palestinian news. There was no soap in the bathroom, so we couldn’t shower. Our trip was cut short (actually in half) because of money issues. And we were interrogated at the Israeli border about our expired visas. But with that said, things didn’t NOT go our way. We’d gladly sacrifice ALL (and more) of the little nuisances mentioned throughout this post in order to have our safety and health. Jordan isn’t Cancun. So the fact that we were Jews who safely traveled through an underdeveloped Arab country that only recently signed a “peace” treaty with Israel means we were pretty damn lucky in the end.
The border that separates Israel and Jordan is more than just a government line. On one side is a Jewish state and the other is a Muslim state. There are many differences in the way the states are run, but the similarities are what really stand out. Both are lands of midday tea, hummus, hookah bars and casual conversations that begin with a yell. Both are lands of desert and pasture, blue skies and basins. Both are lands of street vendors and over-priced broken merchandise. And, most importantly, both are lands that are immersed in religion, but really just want to live safely and happily with their loved ones. Traveling to your “enemies” land and seeing what the people and culture is about is one of the main things that leads to acceptance. The solution to our world’s problems is in the act of traveling and taking in culture. And for people who continue to hold onto hatred without venturing into the world of others, I have one slogan for you: “I don’t understand why not!”
Some pictures:
"Where the hell is Petra?"
Amman from a hilltop
Jordanian mountain range
We didn’t have anything planned. We knew we wanted to see Petra—the ancient city/world wonder, we wanted to visit Wadi Rum—the desert in which they filmed Lawrence of Arabia, and we wanted to stay in Amman—Jordan’s capital city. We wanted to stay in Jordan for 4 days. But, of course, nothing goes as planned.
The best way to describe our trip is to describe Jordan itself. So below, I’ve compiled a list of national “whatevers” to describe our Jordanian experience.
National Currency: The Jordanian Dinar
This little fucker is as strong as the Euro. Who would have thought? This meant that our seemingly large exchange from shekels to dinars left us with less than 100 dinars. Of course, we didn’t realize our problematic money situation until we were already well into Jordan. A 20 dinar cab ride here, a 30 dinar Turkish bath there. Before we knew it, we were pooling together coins to buy cookies for dinner. “Dinars for Dinnar” is what we called our charity drive. We needed to reconsider our options if we wanted to last more than a day in Jordan. What would Moses do?
National Slogan: “I don’t understand why not!”
It wasn’t long before this phrase emerged from our lips. And with every ridiculous circumstance that arose, it continued to naturally find its way out. The phrase was first mumbled at the gates of Petra. A friend of ours went a few weeks earlier to Petra, and told us that the entrance fee was 21 dinars. So we budgeted accordingly. However, upon arrival, they said it cost 34 dinars. We wanted to know why the sudden jump in price. At first we thought they were giving us the “American” rate. But after talking to everyone on the Petra chain of command, we finally got an explanation in English. The manager told us that as of 2010, they made a “special deal." Wait until you hear this... Before 2009, you had the option of seeing Petra on your own, which only cost 21 dinars. If you didn’t want to see it on your own, then you could pay for a horse ride and for a tour guide (which would have cost you an additional 20 dinars). But now, as of Jan. 1, 2010, it is mandatory that you pay for a horse and tour guide -- which they give you at a “special” rate of only an additional 13 dinars -- bringing the cost of admission to a mandatory 34 dinars… What kind of bass ackwards deal was this?!
“Well what if we don’t want a horse ride or guide?” we asked furiously.
“Then you don’t go,” they replied.
“But do we still have to pay for it?”
“Yes.”
“Can we go in without the horse or guide for 21 dinars?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand why not!”
And it began…
National Bird: The Middle Finger
There was no way around the Petra “special.” So we paid. But our money situation got worse. When we arrived to where the horses were, we showed them our ticket and hopped on.
There wasn’t any need for the horses. In fact, next to the horse trail was a perfectly good walkway for people that somehow got around paying into the tourist trap. But since we already paid good money, we took the ride. We were literally on the horses for 5 minutes. It was like a carnival pony ride. But instead of little kids, 3 grown men in their mid-20s were the subjects of a Jordanian circus. We got off the horses, but before we could walk away, the guys who took care of the horses stopped us. “Now you tip us,” they said. “For what?” we asked. “For the horse rides.” “No way. You didn’t do anything. And we didn’t even want to take the horse ride in the first place. Your guys up front made us.” “You tip us!” Damnet. So we looked through our dramatically thinning wallets for some money. We each gave the three horse guys a dinar each for doing nothing. We started to walk away, but they stopped us yet again. “A dinar?! Give us more. At least 2 dinars each.” We couldn’t believe it. We give these guys a tip they didn't even deserve, and they give us the middle finger in return. I’ve never been harassed as much as I was in Petra. We’re tourists, yes, but we’re also on a budget. People that truly need the money are grateful for whatever they are given. These pricks just happen to work in a giant tourist trap where they’ve learned to guilt people into paying them more than they deserve. Well we stood ground and gave them the middle finger in return by walking away.National Dish: Quarter chicken with rice
Now, the people who work in Petra don’t represent the people of Jordan. For the most part, people are very friendly, polite and truly like you visiting their country. Granted, I wouldn’t want to walk around Jordan handing out latkes and kepahs declaring my Judaism. But as Americans, they really had no problem with us. Except for one instance, which I will soon explain.
After the first day, we had to make a decision. Given our money situation we could either go to Wadi Rum for the day and then return to Israel, giving us a whopping 36 hours in Jordan. Or, we could take our chances and go to Amman for a few days, hoping that it would be cheaper than the area around Petra. We took the chance.
Amman is a cool city. It’s poor, but it’s an interesting place to walk around in (for a short amount of time). People are on the streets screaming at each other and selling shitty items for 4 times the amount they are worth. We walked by this “shoe store” which literally consisted of a blanket on the sidewalk and old, pairless shoes sitting in a giant pile. I guess shopping there would entail picking out two mismatched shoes and then walking away feeling good about your purchase.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter what food you order there because you’re automatically getting a quarter chicken with rice. You could order a cheese pizza and you’ll be given a quarter chicken with rice. The night we stayed in Petra, the owner of the hotel was a Bedouin. We told him that we were really hungry after walking around Petra all day. He nodded at us and told us that he had a big Bedouin meal for us. He came out with a puny plate of a quarter chicken with rice.
So in Amman, we asked our hotel owner for a hearty Jordanian dish. She recommended a place that featured “mansaf,” which is Jordan’s national dish. Great, we were hungry. We got to the restaurant and ordered the mansaf. “Would you like a quarter meal or a half meal?” “Definitely a half.”
While we were waiting, we couldn’t help but notice a Jordanian man from across the restaurant staring. This wasn’t any stare, though. It was a death stare. He could have cooked a quarter piece of chicken in under 30 seconds with that stare. We kept glancing over, and then glancing away. Similar to how a young guy and girl who have a crush on one another might glance. Is that what he wanted? A relationship? Perhaps he was on J-Date. Username: ObamaFan#1. No, but seriously he was about to kill us.
We were starving and felt uncomfortable, so the half order of mansaf couldn’t have come soon enough. The national dish was revealed and… bloody hell! It was a quarter chicken with rice.
Many things didn’t go our way. The hotels that promised heat were 35 degrees. The hotel that promised cable had only one channel – Palestinian news. There was no soap in the bathroom, so we couldn’t shower. Our trip was cut short (actually in half) because of money issues. And we were interrogated at the Israeli border about our expired visas. But with that said, things didn’t NOT go our way. We’d gladly sacrifice ALL (and more) of the little nuisances mentioned throughout this post in order to have our safety and health. Jordan isn’t Cancun. So the fact that we were Jews who safely traveled through an underdeveloped Arab country that only recently signed a “peace” treaty with Israel means we were pretty damn lucky in the end.
The border that separates Israel and Jordan is more than just a government line. On one side is a Jewish state and the other is a Muslim state. There are many differences in the way the states are run, but the similarities are what really stand out. Both are lands of midday tea, hummus, hookah bars and casual conversations that begin with a yell. Both are lands of desert and pasture, blue skies and basins. Both are lands of street vendors and over-priced broken merchandise. And, most importantly, both are lands that are immersed in religion, but really just want to live safely and happily with their loved ones. Traveling to your “enemies” land and seeing what the people and culture is about is one of the main things that leads to acceptance. The solution to our world’s problems is in the act of traveling and taking in culture. And for people who continue to hold onto hatred without venturing into the world of others, I have one slogan for you: “I don’t understand why not!”
Some pictures:
"Where the hell is Petra?"
Amman from a hilltop
Jordanian mountain rangeSunday, January 3, 2010
Resolution #4(8)
I started 2010 the same way I’ve started every other year of the past decade: With bROken resolutions.
It’s the third day of the New Year and my “Resolution” checklist looks as follows (green = completed; red = failed) : 1) Make a New Years Resolution checklist
2) Stop eating hummus x
3) Do nightly push ups x
4) Accept Israeli culture as circumstance; embracing it without anger x
5) Uphold my New Years Resolution checklist x
#2 and #3 were easy ones to break. In fact, I broke them both less than a few hours into the New Year. Quite simply, after our New Years celebration I ate a falafel sandwich with hummus and then fell asleep for the night.
But these weren’t the important resolutions. The important resolution – the one that I really wanted to uphold – was #4: Accept Israeli culture as circumstance; embracing it without anger.
The following post is dedicated to my reason for breaking it…
I love culture, and I usually embrace it with open arms. But the culture I’ve experienced in the past has only been temporary. For instance, when I traveled to Europe, I only experienced different cultures for a few days at a time. Because I had no personal ties to them, I submerged myself in the good, and easily disregarded the bad. It's much easier this way.
Israel, however, is much different. I'm tied to the land both physically and spiritually. Living here, it’s hard to ignore the cultural differences that shape the way your day plays out. And it's often angersome. As a result, I made a resolution to view such differences as elements of circumstance only. I will accept both the good and the bad of Israeli culture as a byproduct of the actions its residents have grown to know. In other words, the Israeli way of life will not anger me because I'm going to accept it for just being the way it is. I will, in turn, embrace it as a learning mechanism to improve my own life.
At least, that was the idea...
To anybody who has ever been to Israel, it should not come to a surprise when I say that my hopes and dreams I planned on executing through Resolution #4 were completely shattered by the means of… Israeli drivers.
In an article from Drivers.com, the author writes: “By all accounts, driving in Israel is getting worse: more honking, rudeness, cutting in.” This quote was written in 2001. If the author were to describe driving in Israel today, I think his quote would simply say, “Fuck.”
It’s chaos. Drivers swerve in and out of lanes without signal. Bikers ride the shoulders and (wait for it…) the sidewalks to get ahead. Bus drivers have been known to hit cars and then just drive off. There is constant beeping, yelling and gesturing. It's like a highway chase scene from a Bruce Willis film.
As a result, road rage occurs, and when it does, this tends to happen:
A highway accident just outside Tel Aviv.
The driving situation got so bad that the government had to implement a new stoplight. Before the light switches from red to green, it flashes yellow. The reason for this is because Israeli drivers got so anxious and impatient at stoplights that they began inching up during the red, falsely anticipating when exactly it would turn green. Drivers wound up blocking crosswalks and creating confusion with their prematurity. So the government gave drivers a yellow light to let them know when they could start inching up. But now this yellow light has essentially become their green light, making the situation just as problematic.
All in all, I don’t know what everyone is so impatient about. Israelis are perpetually tardy. So I guess there's something intriguing about rushing to be inevitably late.
Anyway, I thankfully don’t drive. But I do take the buses. And the same people who drive these buses, at one point, grew up driving cars.
So my friend and I were coming home from the basketball courts. There is pretty much only one bus that takes us to and from the basketball courts: Bus 48. Bus 48 NEVER seems to come. It’s the ghost bus. When I don’t need it, I see Bus 48 every 10-15 minutes. But when I do, I find myself waiting 45+ minutes.
So on the way back from the courts, we see Bus 48 stopped in the distance. It’s at the bus stop, and we just might be able to make it. We start running toward it. It finishes loading the passengers, and begins to take off. It makes it less than 5 feet from the bus stop when it hits a red light. We caught a break. If the light was green, Bus 48 would have driven away, and we would sit waiting for an unpredictable amount of time. But G-d must have changed it to red. My friend had a study session to attend, and I had some hummus to eat.
We arrive at the doors of Bus 48. The bus driver looks at us, and then turns his head to the road. “Let us in,” we yell while knocking on the doors. The bus driver shakes his head “no.” Wait, what? What the hell is this? The bus stop is 5 feet back, and he’s stopped at a red light. In the amount of time he took to shake his head “no,” we could have hopped on and paid him. But instead, we stood screaming at him to let us on while he waited at the traffic light for another minute and a half. He drove away the second it turned green, leaving two helpless Americans behind.
Both of us returned to the bus stop, quite angry. I was trying desperately to keep my cool. “Why the hell couldn’t he just let us on?” we pondered. “In America, they would have,” my friend said. But this act alone wasn’t the thing that shattered Resolution #4. The nail in the coffin came with what happened next.
A very old woman was waiting for another numbered bus. Perhaps the 18? Maybe the 82? I don't remember, but I do remember that it wasn't the 48. She was waiting several feet away from the bus stop. She signaled to the bus driver that she needed to get on. The bus driver pulled over as quickly as he could, completely blocking the two lanes of traffic. It was very difficult for this woman to get on. She tried getting on, but couldn’t. She felt bad about holding up the bus, so signaled to him to go without her. But the bus driver didn’t leave. Instead, he inched closer to the curb, and waited patiently as myself, my friend and a random passerby now helped to lift this woman onto the bus. The light was green, and people were beeping ferociously at this man to move his bus. But instead of succumbing to all the external pressures, this driver did what was right.
With this kind deed my resolution was shattered. At this moment I became absolutely irate with the driver of Bus 48. I realized that him not letting us on the bus wasn’t because of a bus company policy. I quickly remembered that there were no rules when it comes to traffic. The rules were dictated by the drivers themselves. And if one man can do the right thing, then so can another.
I absolutely refused to embrace this impatient, “every man for himself” Israeli mentality when it comes to certain elements of their culture, most notably driving. I couldn’t embrace this cultural occurrence without growing angry because I realized that it could have been prevented. This goes for any culture and any situation. Sometimes we feel as if we’re restricted by cultural circumstance and therefore accept cultural wrongs as rights. But this is not the case. We need to learn how to embrace culture in order to change circumstance. We can directly affect the actions that occur around us by utilizing the power from our differences. And I realized all this from a bus driver without a face.
As I mentioned, when the bus driver blocked the road people began to beep ferociously. However, when they realized that this man was blocking the road to help an old lady, the beeping stopped. Sometimes you can’t always see the good that’s being masked by the seemingly bad. And change is very much possible, even in a place as stubborn as Israel. Patience is what’s needed to gain that enlightenment.
The kind-hearted bus driver of bus 18? 82? assisted in the breaking of an old Resolution #4, and the formation of a new. So let me introduce to you my New New Year’s Resolution checklist:
1) Wish bROke eNgLisH readers a very happy and healthy 2010
2) Eat more hummus
3) Think about doing nightly push ups
4) Ignite change by becoming the kind-hearted bus driver deserved by Bus 48 (In good time…)
It’s the third day of the New Year and my “Resolution” checklist looks as follows (green = completed; red = failed) : 1) Make a New Years Resolution checklist
2) Stop eating hummus x
3) Do nightly push ups x
4) Accept Israeli culture as circumstance; embracing it without anger x
5) Uphold my New Years Resolution checklist x
#2 and #3 were easy ones to break. In fact, I broke them both less than a few hours into the New Year. Quite simply, after our New Years celebration I ate a falafel sandwich with hummus and then fell asleep for the night.
But these weren’t the important resolutions. The important resolution – the one that I really wanted to uphold – was #4: Accept Israeli culture as circumstance; embracing it without anger.
The following post is dedicated to my reason for breaking it…
I love culture, and I usually embrace it with open arms. But the culture I’ve experienced in the past has only been temporary. For instance, when I traveled to Europe, I only experienced different cultures for a few days at a time. Because I had no personal ties to them, I submerged myself in the good, and easily disregarded the bad. It's much easier this way.
Israel, however, is much different. I'm tied to the land both physically and spiritually. Living here, it’s hard to ignore the cultural differences that shape the way your day plays out. And it's often angersome. As a result, I made a resolution to view such differences as elements of circumstance only. I will accept both the good and the bad of Israeli culture as a byproduct of the actions its residents have grown to know. In other words, the Israeli way of life will not anger me because I'm going to accept it for just being the way it is. I will, in turn, embrace it as a learning mechanism to improve my own life.
At least, that was the idea...
To anybody who has ever been to Israel, it should not come to a surprise when I say that my hopes and dreams I planned on executing through Resolution #4 were completely shattered by the means of… Israeli drivers.
In an article from Drivers.com, the author writes: “By all accounts, driving in Israel is getting worse: more honking, rudeness, cutting in.” This quote was written in 2001. If the author were to describe driving in Israel today, I think his quote would simply say, “Fuck.”
It’s chaos. Drivers swerve in and out of lanes without signal. Bikers ride the shoulders and (wait for it…) the sidewalks to get ahead. Bus drivers have been known to hit cars and then just drive off. There is constant beeping, yelling and gesturing. It's like a highway chase scene from a Bruce Willis film.
As a result, road rage occurs, and when it does, this tends to happen:
A highway accident just outside Tel Aviv.The driving situation got so bad that the government had to implement a new stoplight. Before the light switches from red to green, it flashes yellow. The reason for this is because Israeli drivers got so anxious and impatient at stoplights that they began inching up during the red, falsely anticipating when exactly it would turn green. Drivers wound up blocking crosswalks and creating confusion with their prematurity. So the government gave drivers a yellow light to let them know when they could start inching up. But now this yellow light has essentially become their green light, making the situation just as problematic.
All in all, I don’t know what everyone is so impatient about. Israelis are perpetually tardy. So I guess there's something intriguing about rushing to be inevitably late.
Anyway, I thankfully don’t drive. But I do take the buses. And the same people who drive these buses, at one point, grew up driving cars.
So my friend and I were coming home from the basketball courts. There is pretty much only one bus that takes us to and from the basketball courts: Bus 48. Bus 48 NEVER seems to come. It’s the ghost bus. When I don’t need it, I see Bus 48 every 10-15 minutes. But when I do, I find myself waiting 45+ minutes.
So on the way back from the courts, we see Bus 48 stopped in the distance. It’s at the bus stop, and we just might be able to make it. We start running toward it. It finishes loading the passengers, and begins to take off. It makes it less than 5 feet from the bus stop when it hits a red light. We caught a break. If the light was green, Bus 48 would have driven away, and we would sit waiting for an unpredictable amount of time. But G-d must have changed it to red. My friend had a study session to attend, and I had some hummus to eat.
We arrive at the doors of Bus 48. The bus driver looks at us, and then turns his head to the road. “Let us in,” we yell while knocking on the doors. The bus driver shakes his head “no.” Wait, what? What the hell is this? The bus stop is 5 feet back, and he’s stopped at a red light. In the amount of time he took to shake his head “no,” we could have hopped on and paid him. But instead, we stood screaming at him to let us on while he waited at the traffic light for another minute and a half. He drove away the second it turned green, leaving two helpless Americans behind.
Both of us returned to the bus stop, quite angry. I was trying desperately to keep my cool. “Why the hell couldn’t he just let us on?” we pondered. “In America, they would have,” my friend said. But this act alone wasn’t the thing that shattered Resolution #4. The nail in the coffin came with what happened next.
A very old woman was waiting for another numbered bus. Perhaps the 18? Maybe the 82? I don't remember, but I do remember that it wasn't the 48. She was waiting several feet away from the bus stop. She signaled to the bus driver that she needed to get on. The bus driver pulled over as quickly as he could, completely blocking the two lanes of traffic. It was very difficult for this woman to get on. She tried getting on, but couldn’t. She felt bad about holding up the bus, so signaled to him to go without her. But the bus driver didn’t leave. Instead, he inched closer to the curb, and waited patiently as myself, my friend and a random passerby now helped to lift this woman onto the bus. The light was green, and people were beeping ferociously at this man to move his bus. But instead of succumbing to all the external pressures, this driver did what was right.
With this kind deed my resolution was shattered. At this moment I became absolutely irate with the driver of Bus 48. I realized that him not letting us on the bus wasn’t because of a bus company policy. I quickly remembered that there were no rules when it comes to traffic. The rules were dictated by the drivers themselves. And if one man can do the right thing, then so can another.
I absolutely refused to embrace this impatient, “every man for himself” Israeli mentality when it comes to certain elements of their culture, most notably driving. I couldn’t embrace this cultural occurrence without growing angry because I realized that it could have been prevented. This goes for any culture and any situation. Sometimes we feel as if we’re restricted by cultural circumstance and therefore accept cultural wrongs as rights. But this is not the case. We need to learn how to embrace culture in order to change circumstance. We can directly affect the actions that occur around us by utilizing the power from our differences. And I realized all this from a bus driver without a face.
As I mentioned, when the bus driver blocked the road people began to beep ferociously. However, when they realized that this man was blocking the road to help an old lady, the beeping stopped. Sometimes you can’t always see the good that’s being masked by the seemingly bad. And change is very much possible, even in a place as stubborn as Israel. Patience is what’s needed to gain that enlightenment.
The kind-hearted bus driver of bus 18? 82? assisted in the breaking of an old Resolution #4, and the formation of a new. So let me introduce to you my New New Year’s Resolution checklist:
1) Wish bROke eNgLisH readers a very happy and healthy 2010
2) Eat more hummus
3) Think about doing nightly push ups
4) Ignite change by becoming the kind-hearted bus driver deserved by Bus 48 (In good time…)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
