Tradescantia Zebrina .:. The Wandering Jew

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tales and opinions of the wandering Jew

It had so much potential

Tonight was the annual Carlebach memorial concert (tomorrow’s the yartzeit of rabbi Shlomo Carlebach). The concert was huge: big venue, big name musicians, big honouree who happened to be the songwriter the big name musicians were paying homage to… And yet, it wasn’t any good. The sound tech needed to up the microphones for all of the singers, but never did; the bass player spent most of the 2.5 hours for which we stayed (we left before it ended) gesturing wildly, through mime, that the [insert instrument/singer here] needed their mic turned up. The spotlight usually stayed on one guy, even if he wasn’t the one singing. The smoke machine (also, smoke machine, wtf?) was going full blast before the concert even started, and didn’t give up at all. The musicians sounded unrehearsed. And the one time that 4 guys from 4 different groups came out to sing together, they attempted 4-part harmony which, unfortunately, included the long lost flat note of Babylon (my ears still hurt).

There was no reason for this concert to be a let down. (The sole highlight: the crazy dancing dude on stage for 4 songs. Specifically, the crouch-down/jump-and-spin/kick move he did twice.)

On a slightly related note, I wonder what part of the yeshiva culture instills in the bochurs the concept that they have the right to resume a song, at a concert, after the musicians on stage have finished (and are trying to talk, or the emcee is now trying to introduce the next group). It happened tonight, and I’ve seen it before, where a bunch of guys from the yeshiva (I’m assuming, based on their dress, style of dancing, etc) keep on fervently singing the same one-line of the song, ignoring what’s happening on stage, and, possibly, intentionally doing so. Why do they think that’s appropriate?

Filed under: israel, music, wtf?

In the morning, in the evening, and on the pages…

Since being in Israel, I’ve fallen out of habit of laying tefillin and davening every morning. Of watching what I eat and being conscious of where my food comes from. Of cleaning my thoughts before going to bed. Of reading. And I want to get back to it all. I need to wake earlier so I can have time to lay tefillin. And ask more questions when buying food. And write down thoughts and lists before I go to bed. And get my hands on English books. Yes.

Filed under: israel, judaism, random

It tastes like Vancouver

Another great thing about living (and eating) in Israel? The availability of hecshered (kosher) Asian food. And for cheap! Which means I’m able to enjoy one of my favourite make-in-advance and enjoy as a snack or meal foods: sushi salad.

Super simple: prepare sushi rice with sushi-zu (a mixture of rice vinegar, sugar, and salt), then let it chill in the fridge. Also rehydrate and marinate shiitake mushrooms, julienne your oshinko, and julienne some tofu and fry it with sesame oil. In North America, I usually also have tuna or fake crab with it, and avocado too, but it’s not avocado season in Israel, and the store was out of fake crab. When it’s time to eat, put a portion of rice in a bowl, load on some toppings, garnish with some pickled ginger, et voila, sushi salad (or, sushi in a bowl). Delicious and cheap.

The oshinko costs $2CDN, the giant bag of shiitake was $2CDN as well, the huge block of tofu was $3CDN, and the rice vinegar and soy sauce were cheaper than anything kosher I could find in Montreal. Amazing. A taste of Vancouver in Israel.

Thanks to EAR for turning me on to the Asian market on Agripas, near the shuk.

Filed under: good eats, israel, recipes

On The Seam

As BZ briefly mentioned, a bunch of us went to Museum On The Seam on Tuesday. The “seam” in question is the division between East and West Jerusalem; it is physically located on the seam, and also focuses on contemporary art which deals with socio-political issues. We were there to see the current exhibit, Bare Life:

Bare Life is the third in a series of exhibitions on themes of human rights that we are presenting at the Museum. This exhibition aims to touch upon the increasingly unraveling seam between deviant states and normative states, and to point resolutely at the place where the temporary emergency situation turns into a legitimized ongoing situation that in the end leads to a paranoia of suspicion and to the use of violence to re-establish public order.The works on show in this exhibition were selected with an intention to present and depict the atmosphere that encourages nations and organizations to activate invasive methods which infringe the boundaries of our identity, our privacy, and the freedom we are entitled to as citizens of a world that not so long ago experienced the horrors of the Holocaust, was witness to atrocities and to contempt of human values, and was enlightened enough to proclaim its aspiration for reforms and new directions in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which was formulated after the end of that terrible war.

This aspiration is confronted in the exhibition by means of works by 42 artists from all over the world, some of whom are showing this work in Israel for the first time. In their works, these artists bring testimonies that attempt to clarify the nature of relations in times of trouble and in periods of uncertainty which the regime or the sovereign define by as a times for restoring order, which accords the authorities the power to use all the means at their disposal.

While many of the pieces focused on the ongoing Israel/Palestine conflict, there was also work focusing on the former USSR, China, South Africa, the US South, and more.

There were some very interesting pieces, a lot of mixed and multi-media. The one I found the most intense was a video installation, which featured a line of people stepping forward to see *something* (we don’t know what), and their reaction to the *something*. Most cried, gasped, looked horrified, quickly looked away then stole additional glances. Equally interesting, and I think this was the artist’s main point, was seeing the people’s interactions with one another – a touch on the shoulder, a reassuring look, a hug… I was mesmerized, and ended up watching the full video. For me, that piece made the whole exhibit worthwhile.

Equally interesting was the rooftop view. The museum has sketched out the surrounding neighbourhoods, placing a sketch-map at each cardinal direction so you can know which buildings and neighbourhoods you’re looking at from your vantage point on the seam. It was really interesting.*

I have to call the museum back and find out when their next exhibit will be rolling in, as I want to go back. If you speak English, Hebrew, or Arabic (the museum is trilingual) you should check it out too.

*This isn’t quite the right post for this, but I’m hijacking it: While I’ve mentioned hearing the adhan before, I don’t think I’ve mentioned how much I enjoy living in a place where I can hear the call to prayer multiple times a day. I heard it while I was on the rooftop of the museum, I can hear it from my apartment, I hear it when I’m at shuk, I hear it all around town. I love it. Even though I know that there is a huge separation between the Jews and Muslims, especially in a city and country where Arabs are constantly profiled, treated suspiciously, and pushed down, it makes me feel a connection to Jerusalem that I haven’t otherwise felt. It gives me hope that these neighbours, descendants of Abraham/Ibrahim can live and pray together. When I hear their adhan, I’m reminded that I have (or haven’t) davened three times that day, just as there are Muslims who have (or haven’t) prayed five times that day. And it reminds me of “Muslim Shabbat,” and the great conversations I would have with my Muslim friends at Concordia. And it reminds me of the times I went to the mosque with friends, and stood next to them in prayer, davening the amidah while they went through the salat recitations, noticing the similarities between both prayers in their formula and body movements. I think I need to find a joint prayer/religious group here.

Filed under: israel, judaism, palestine, politics, religion, war

Rain!

!גשם

At 16:55, it rained. For all of three minutes. For all of 17 drops. But still. Rain!

And now, at 17:43, there’s amazing lightning filling the skies in the south end of the city, and roaring thunder. Amazing!

The last rain I saw was in New Hampshire, in early August.

Welcome, rain, we’ve been wanting you.

[edit 17:46 – The skies have opened and it is POURING DOWN. AMAZING!!]

Filed under: israel, seasons

Meanwhile, back in Vancouver…

The biggest, hugest, greatest, huggiest, most amazingest congratulations to Gwen Haworth, aka artflick, on the success of her film, “She’s A Boy I Knew.” I had the privilege of watching an early edit of the documentary and it blew me away. Now, the audiences at the Vancouver International Film Festival have seen it (in sold out screenings!) and named it People’s Choice Award for Most Popular Canadian Film. But that’s not all! Gwen also walked away with the Women in Film & Television Vancouver Artistic Merit Award.

If her film comes to a city (or film festival) near you, I highly recommend seeing it.

The press, and public, agree:

And, because I think this was an excellent find, googling the news of Gwen’s film: http://vancouver.craigslist.org/mis/440602556.html

Again, huge congratulations to Gwen. (And remember: I will be your bekilted date to Canne or Sundance, so long as we don’t have to get there by scooter.)

Filed under: friends, queers, random, teevee/movies

And so it goes

I spent Shabbat at Sde Eliyahu, a dati (religious) kibbutz near Beit She’an, with friends. Before going up there, I’d had this lingering thought that perhaps, quite possibly, אולי ,אפשר, I’d made the wrong decision in choosing not to go the kibbutz ulpan route with these friends. But then I witnessed it for myself. Instead of getting into the problematics, I suggest that you read what The Last Trumpet had to say.

…It was not a great Shabbat. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed seeing my friends. And I enjoyed our failed Shabbat afternoon journey to the water spring (which involved walking through an orchard of spider webs, circling around the spring, watching a giant crab at the edge of the water who clearly wanted to EAT US NOW, my being bitten by a fish, not actually swimming or even fully getting in the water, being circled by bees, backing away from the praying mantis, having spiders come out of the rimon (pomegranate) that I picked from the tree to snack on, and destroying my faux-crocs (which now have lovely holes in the soles)). On the plus side, we did eat a pomegranate and dates fresh from the trees, I got to play with a super cute 18 month old girl who is beyond confused by which language she speaks (Heblish? Engrew?), and I got to speak French with a Belgian kibbutznik who started to talk about how Belgium might be on its final breath as a unified country, and who was incredibly surprised and pleased that I knew what she was talking about and could add to the conversation. On the down side, the davening was beyond bad; even the addition of the Jerusalem Cantors Choir didn’t add any ruach.

At least I no longer doubt my choice: the kibbutz ulpan would NOT have been a good idea for me.

Filed under: friends, hebrew, israel, languages, travels

East Jerusalem

On Friday, I joined Ir Amim for a tour of East Jerusalem. The only information I knew about the non-profit organization was from their website, and the short email they had sent me:

The route of the tour is Gilo (view to Beth Lechem) – Har Homa – Jabl Mucabar – Ras El-Amoud – Abu-Dis – Mount Scopus (view to Maale Edumim and E1 area) – Pisgat Zeev – A-Ram.The tour allows the public to see for them selves [sic] Eastern Jerusalem and the reality of every day life in it.

Also, we talk about the effect the security barrier has on life in Jerusalem as well as it’s security, humanitarian and political aspects.

A few friends had done this tour and spoke highly of the organization for being fair and unbiased. I gave it a go.

Everyone on the tour was given a map of greater Jerusalem; the lengend was explained, including the Old City’s boundaries, the Green Line (the 1949 Israel/Jordan armistice line), the 1967 municipal boundary line, the route of today’s barrier/wall, the sites of major checkpoints, Israeli built-up areas beyond the green line, Palestinian built-up areas, and industrial parks. A brief history of each changing boundary was also given, including the militaristic, historical, and ideological reasons for each change. We discussed population change in the Israeli settlements and Arab areas, challenges faced by both populations based on where they’re living, whether or not the wall/barrier was increasing security (though the concept of security was never discussed, it was always framed as “safer for the Israelis/Jews”), and what the humanitarian cost of the wall/barrier was to those who live next to it.

The view from Nof Zion towards the old city. Nof Zion is a settlement that is currently under construction in Jabel Mukabar. It’s privately funded, mostly by Americans and French, and the sight was intentionally selected so that Palestinians wouldn’t be able to claim the empty hillside as part of their own future-territory. (See articles like this for more information.)

We stopped near the checkpoint in/out of Sheikh Sa’ad to talk with a Palestinian woman who lives there. She’s involved with her neighbourhood’s court case to have the wall moved – to allow Sheikh Sa’ad to be inside the wall/barrier. She explained how there’s only one road in her neighbourhood, that basically goes in a circle. So there are folks who had cars before the wall went up; their stuck driving in circles now and kind of serve as taxis. Those who own cars on the Jerusalem side of the wall leave their cars on that side of the check point so that they can use their cars to get around town, go to work, etc. Most of the people who lived there were able to prove that their life centred around Jerusalem, thus allowing them to relocate to other Jerusalem neighbourhoods. Of the 3500 from that area, only 800 still live there now.

IMG_6576.JPG IMG_6577.JPG
IMG_6578.JPG IMG_6579.JPG IMG_6581.JPGMany sections of the wall/barrier are covered in graffiti, paintings, posters, and other forms of political and/or beautification statements. Along this stretch, a lot of the writing had to do with support for Palestine (“Scotland Supports Palestine”), and dismay or disgust at the wall (“I’m sorry my taxes helped pay for this SHIT!” and “No good comes form this evil wall”). The large posters that were ripped down can be seen in other spots around Jerusalem. They’re of two faces, one Arab and one Jew, whose faces are slightly distorted (think Mac Photo Booth’s bulge effect), to show that we all look the same, we’re all the same, we’re all humans, our differences are minimal. … And why is there barbed wire along the top of the wall? Kids were able to shimmy/climb up the wall, by pulling themselves up the crevices, so the army added barbed wire to the top. *sigh*

From this same stretch of the wall/barrier, you can easily see some building poking out over top. A mosque, a school, and the Palestinian parliament building. According to the tour guide, the building was built following the “1929 Oslo Treaty,” which was looking at a two state solution, and stipulated that the Palestinian and Israeli parliaments had to be equidistant from the Temple Mount. (So this photo to the Temple Mount is the same distance as the Temple Mount to the Knesset.) But doing some research online failed to turn up any supporting evidence of this treaty. (Specifically, would this have been signed before or after the “Palestine Riots of 1929”?) Either way, it shows that there’s long term support for, and suggestions of, a two state solution.

Two Palestinian boys on their donkey, stopped beside us near French Hill/Issawiyya. (Photo taken mostly because of the reaction of the Australian woman who was standing next to me: “Well, crikey!, they’re riding an ass!”) This was while stopping to look over the E-1 area from Mount Scopus.

Looking from Pisgat Ze’ev (the white home on the left is in Pisgat Ze’ev) across the wadi, and the wall/barrier, to Shuafat Camp (refugee camp). The camp was established after Palestinians were [chased / fled] from their neghbourhoods in what is now the suburbs of Jerusalem to the Old City, which was already quite crowded, so they needed homes elsewhere. Jordan asked the UN to build the camp, which happened in 1966, in an area which was then just outside of Jerusalem, but in 1967 was declared part of Jerusalem. Pisgat Ze’ev was the largest neighbourhood built in East Jerusalem, with a population of 60,000. The people who live in the camp do not have Jerusalem IDs; the wall didn’t follow the 1967 declared munincipal boundary, so the result is that about 30,000 people need to cross the wall, through check points, for school, work, etc, every day. The grey buildings are UN, the white are private houses (the UN is exempt from the regulation to use white Jerusalem stone for all buildings). The wall was later put up as some people who moved into the camp didn’t want peace or stability, and the proximity to Pisgat Ze’ev meant they could use guns to harm their Jewish neighbours instead of needing missiles.

The final stop was up near Ramallah. On the way, we had to stop at a temporary road check point. Then we saw the big Ramallah check point that is the most high tech in Israel. The road we took cuts through Beit Hanina; it effectively forced the creation of a “second” Beit Hanina, Beit Hanina al Balad. The current proposal is to “cut off” this northern tip of the wall/barrier, meaning it would no longer be considered part of Jerusalem by the Israelis, and would be handed over to the Palestinians. If you look on the above-linked map, it makes sense: the population in this northern finger is almost entirely Palestinian, and would include the two Beit Haninas, Qalandiya, Kafr’ Aqb and on to Ramallah.

The tour was good, but I didn’t think it went too in depth (though, how in depth and controversial could you be in 4 hours?). I plan on doing longer tours in the upcoming months, including programs that will actually cross the wall. Unfortunately, people who make aliyah (Jews who immigrate to Israel) are not permitted to go to Beit Lehem, Ramallah, or Hevron. So for them, a tour like Ir Amim’s might be the only glimpse they get at the issues facing those whose daily life is impacted by the wall.

Filed under: israel, palestine, politics, travels, war, wtf?

The week of Sukkot, plus…

A lot happens in Jerusalem during Sukkot. There’s no school (for the children nor for the yeshiva students), so it’s really a big holiday. Aside from the sukkahs we build, and the crazy Christmas connections (see my previous post), the city’s also abuzz with events, parties, learning opportunities, and more.

There was a food fair, which boasted 40 food vendors, representing the 40 years of a “re-unified Jerusalem.” We had fun drinking beer and choosing our meat (the tandoori chicken was amazingly tasty, the Chinese food not so much), before we went to watch the apathetic cheerleaders on stage, followed by a dance competition for members of the audience. It was all kind of a waste of the 10 sheqel entry fee until we found the dried fruit. Oh so tasty, amazing, dried fruit. We bought a lot of it, and will make liquor with the dried kiwis and lychees.

There was the much advertised, highly hyped Jerusalem civic “sukkah-riah” (a combination of the words for sukkah and candy).Unfortunately, it was not built out of candy. Nor was there metric buttloads of candy being doled out to all of us, as other media reports had promised. So sad, so disappointing. [Pictures form the week of Sukkot here.]

There was the tasty pizzas (with sourdough crusts) that we baked and ate in the balcony sukkah at our friends’ apartment. There was much drinking, a lot of fresh fruit chopped and blended to add to the drinking (fresh pomegranate juice and vodka? oh yes!), meals in sukkahs, long conversations, walking to and fro… And trips to the shuk. [Pictures from the sukkahs here.]

There was also the Christian Zionist parade through Jerusalem. I think this might deserve its own post, but I’m writing here now, so this will have to be the place. Wow. c_IMG_1942.JPGThe background is that 6,000-7,000 Christian Zionists from around the world come to Jerusalem during the “Feast of Tabernacles,” ie Sukkot. They do bible study, tour the country, and have this parade. Their pilgrimage/conference is one of the largest tourist money makers for Jerusalem each year. So the parade was basically a bunch of the Israeli big companies (the banks, utilities, post office) then the delegations from each country. Kelly called it the “Christian Olympics,” because they all marched behind signs boasting their countries’ names and flags. There were contingents from every continent except Antarctica. Irish, USAmerican, Canadian, German, Zimbabwean, Brazilian, Chinese, Papuan, New Zealanders, Estonians, and more. Many of whom carried (and blew) shofars as they marched. Many of whom wore t-shirts telling us that Jesus (Yeshua) loves Israelis/Jews. They’re not legally allowed to proselytize while in Israel, so aside form declaring their love of Israel, they also had a lot of messages from Psalms (exalting Israel) and Ruth (“your people shall be my people, your G!d shall be my G!d”). The latter I didn’t really understand. In the book of Ruth, that’s said to Naomi when Ruth declares that she doesn’t want to return to her nation, but rather wants to stay with Naomi and become a Jew. So were the Christian Zionists saying that they want to convert to Judaism? Another thing that was disturbing about the parade were the missionaries. In one of the groups, I believe it was the Ugandans, there were two tall, white, thin, modestly dressed people walking at the back of the group. It was obvious to us that they were missionaries. I was amazed – I didn’t realise that it was still an acceptable practice to go to Africa and convert people to Christianity. It seems very… several decades ago. After 2 hours, we were all traumatized by the parade, and had even run out of new ways to mock what we were seeing. [Pictures of the parade here.]

Oh, and there was the beating of the willows, which was quite spectacular. Though possibly because we were all so relieved that the marathon Hashanah Rabbah service was finally concluding, that we all just really let loose and beat those willows.

And then it was the final holiday for a while, Shemini Atzeret/Simchat Torah. Last night we went to a small Yemenite synagogue, not far from my apartment. It was excellent. Their amazing accents took some getting used to, but once we clued in, it was great. After the auctioning off of Torah scrolls (it’s a custom of many communities to auction off the rights to carry the Torahs during the procession and recitation of piyyut (liturgical poems)), the successful winner tapped me on the shoulder and gave me the Torah he had won (Drew was given the other Torah he’d won). This was exceptionally generous of him, and made us feel all the more welcome. So we carried, sang, and tried to blend in a little. (This was easier to do among the men than the women. Kelly later said she felt twice as tall as the Yemenite women.) The service ended early, so we wandered Katamon and the Geman Colony looking for other shuls, or other chances to dance in the streets with the Torahs. Unfortunately, the opportunities just weren’t there, which seemed odd – in North America there would have been dancing, and it would have continued later. In our wonderings, we did check out a Breslov shul, a yet-to-be-classified Chasidic shul, and the one that was a few hundred people standing in the streets socialising while maybe a dozen people danced. Alas.

This morning, I returned to the Yemenite shul. Even though I was less able to follow their service (amazingly wonderfully confusing tunes, coupled with different liturgy than I’m accustom to and their accents), it was still fantastic. And my own benchmark for a great Simchat Torah was met: there was dancing on the tables, while the tables were being lifted up. Excellent. It ended early, and I went back to the some-sort-of-Chasidic shul, which was also full of singing and dancing. Around 1:30pm, I made my way to Kedem for some egalitarian action, and davened my 4th amidah of the “morning.”

It’s been wonderful, busy, and somewhat exhausting getting through all the haggim plus Shabbats these last few weeks. In some ways, it’s nice that they’re over so I can concentrate on ulpan and learning, and create a regular schedule. But… I’m really going to miss them too. (Which is why I will be celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving on Monday.)

Filed under: friends, good eats, israel, judaism, photos, random, religion, wtf?

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