Rock and Ramallah

Though not by design, I went camera-less this weekend, hence no pictures here. After sleeping-in quite late last Friday, I ended up eating cheese pizza for lunch (I absent-mindedly inquired if they have any meat pizzas and the guy in the store sternly reminded me that it is a kosher place.) I stayed afterwards at the nearby coffee shop to do some weekend work. Yes, you’ve heard that right. It’s mostly just proofreading and Bluebooking the legal footnotes of a report due to be published today but since it was a long one, I ended up spending a couple of hours on it. But I was happy to be indoors for most of the afternoon since the sun was blazing hot anyway.

I accompanied an acquaintance walk her baby to Hayarkon park where we stayed for about an hour and then from there, I went straight to meet my friend Itamar at another coffee shop at Masaryk square. I stopped making weekend plans very early on in my stay here so when he asked me if I feel like going to a concert that night, I just replied yes. Talk about flexibility. Well, sometimes being flexible brings good surprises. Geva Alon was fantastic. I rediscovered the kind of music that I happen to like back when I was more into rock than anything eclectic. Barby, a nice concert venue in south Tel-Aviv, also reminded me of the days when I used to hear live music. The show finished at around one in the morning and we proceeded to our weekly barhop. We settled on Bartleby’s, a deliberately inconspicuous hole in the wall along Dizengoff, as if to ensure that only the people who intend to go there can actually find the place. I was told that it’s a relatively spiffy one. They had great food and a good drink selection. The most striking thing was the sense of intimacy inside. At one point, the bartender gave us all vodka shot glasses for a group cheers.

Despite the late hour of sleep, I managed to wake up early the next day to meet Daniel in Jerusalem. After a brief tour of the Old City (and especially to eat the super delicious knafes at Jafari’s Sweets), we took bus 18 at the Damascus gate going to Ramallah. With no surprises or hitches, we arrived there just in time for a late lunch. Ramallah reminded me of certain parts of Manila actually. Lively, crowded, a bit dirty and incredibly noisy. With no idea of where to go and minimal command of formal Arabic, we ended up going to this restaurant with huge chicken roasters outside. A full meal of a quarter chicken, vegetable soup, pita bread and mashed potatoes cost us only 22 NIS. The bus ride from Jerusalem to Ramallah was 7 NIS. The only waiter was incredibly nice but had limited English language skills outside of taking food orders so he referred us to a Caucasian couple eating at a nearby table. The guy sounded jaded enough to say that if we are looking for entertainment, there is none in Ramallah but he suggested a visit to the government complex and to Arafat’s tomb which is what we did. With two people following us closely as we looked around (apparently the place where Abu Mazen stays is quite close), we didn’t feel comfortable taking pictures. Countless shops and coffee houses later, we ended up at Friends School listening to the lecture of Naomi Klein on divestment from Israel. Everyone at work would later tell me how famous she is but at that time I had no idea who she was and I wasn’t particularly impressed with her either.  The auditorium was packed and in many ways, it felt like a human rights hippie/ Woodstock festival. More than half of the audience were foreign human rights activists, I didn’t feel I belong at all. Add that to the growing list of things to ponder on at some point in the future.

On our way back, I got a small glimpse of the Israeli restrictions on movement when we had to alight the bus some distance from where the Kalandia checkpoint is and go inside the terminal where we spent about ten minutes being screened, and then board the bus back again at the other side of the checkpoint.

It was a pretty exhausting weekend overall and I am looking forward again to just staying in Tel Aviv come next week. Time flies by pretty fast. I can’t believe I’ve been in Israel (mostly in Tel Aviv) for about a month now. It’s not so bad after all. I’m just a late-bloomer for a lot of things, this one included. But maybe everything is good because I have some nice things to look forward to, including my friends’ visit at the end of the month. Can’t wait. 

The art of finding (and eating) free food

My “euphoric state” (I’m easy to please) at having only my second real meal (real=non-sandwich/non-humuus+pita) this week prompts this post. Even though I’m still in the dumps for so many reasons, there is a reason why comfort food is called such that it seems a shame not to dedicate a blog post about it.

If there is any skill which graduate school has perfected (no, not writing whatever scholarship), it is finding free food around a huge campus. Though it is mainly about sustenance, and at times, even survival, finding free food is about the skillful navigation of event calendars of not one, not two but several departments and professional schools comprising the university (sheer distance precludes me from making the long trek to the med and business schools). It means being constantly plugged in the relevant mailing lists and being alert for the occasional email from the admin people announcing leftovers. The tricky part is to make sure this hunt does not reek of desperation, like you just happened to stroll by and somebody invited you or that you were there mainly for the content and everything else (food mostly) is just a bonus. But who are we kidding?

I put that skill to use this evening. I attended the cocktail/dinner part of today’s event, a 25th year celebration of the Civil Liberties Law Fellows Program, a joint project of the New Israel Fund and the American University Washington College of Law at the Rabin Center over at Rokach Blvd. near Tel Aviv University. (To my Israeli friends who insist everyone in Israel understands English – the cab driver doesn’t speak or understand it, the AM/PM store clerk didn’t understand me yesterday, the SuperPharm cashier didn’t understand what I was trying to say and I’ve already been to two restaurants/cafes where there are no English menus). But I digress. I didn’t exactly crash this event but I wasn’t invited either. I just rsvp’d without an invitation – but hey its a general invitation to the human rights community and I work for an NGO so that should be good enough.

The balcony of the Rabin Center was filled with the who’s who of the Israeli human rights community. It looked more like a spiffy, high-society kind of gathering with tall cocktail tables, a jazz band playing in the background, and ambient lamps and plants around than a celebration of public interest lawyering. From where I come from, human rights activists were the scruffy types. Anyhow, I went there, courtesy of my fellow HLS student Daniel, who came all the way from Jerusalem to attend the day-long seminar, which I didn’t attend. We smiled and made acquaintances like naturals. We also had a nice conversation with an NIF couple. For me however, it really was just like this:

Cab going to the Rabin Center: 23 NIS

Grilled skewered salmon & mushroom risotto dinner: priceless.

Of course, the jazz singer just had to end the event by singing, of all songs in the world, We are the world, we are the children. But who cares? Pasta on tomatoes & cream, red pepper quiches, meringues, brownies, salmon sliders and eggplant on skewers were all there for me to taste! Oh, there were lots of speeches too. The US Ambassador to Israel, James Cunningham, wasn’t impressive at all though. He just recited the history of American civil rights, starting from the Dred Scott decision to the election of Barack Obama. In any case, this summer adventure is giving me lots of insights on how things work in Israeli civil society. But that will be for another post.

I also never seem to run out of strange encounters. On my bus ride home, a Chinese couple boarded the bus and suddenly the woman was talking to me in Hebrew. It certainly didn’t sound Chinese to me. Being the only Asian wherever I go in Israel is an attention-catcher, it seems. And when I told her that I don’t understand what she was saying and that I only speak English, she gave me this weird not-so-happy look, as if she thought I was just pretending to not understand her. I just shrugged, and got off at the next stop.

Oh well, good night.

i want to go home.

Musings during 3rd TLV weekend

Before I head out to hear mass at Jaffa which also ends my relaxing (read: lazy) third weekend here in Tel Aviv, I wanted to post these pictures before I forget. So the heat is of course oppressive as usual (If humans can melt, I probably would have melted already) but in any case, we just had to attend the World Refugee Day celebration held at Levinsky Park yesterday near the Central Bus station.

My friend Karin came all the way from Haifa to see Tel Aviv for the first time and we met up with Daniel, a fellow HLS student who is based in Jerusalem, interning for the Association of Civil Rights in Israel or ACRI. Yadin, the legal director and my supervisor at Gisha, brought his kids to the park as well. After a bit of an effort trying to bring everybody to one spot, I introduced Daniel to Yadin as “this is Daniel, I just met him today but I’m sure we’ll be friends in the future” (I mean, what else could I say? It would have been awkward to call someone a friend after having met him five minutes ago!) So after an hour or so at the park, the three of us headed out to Jaffa since both of them have never been there before. I became an accidental tour guide of some sorts.

We ended up eating and having a good conversation till quite late at Aladdin restaurant at Old Jaffa which has a magnificent view of the Mediterranean. The picture below is supposedly of Yael Naim (?) singing during the Refugee Day celebration and a picture (taken without flash) of the three of us.

 

Today, Karin and I met up with another soon-to-be friend (hopefully) Orit. She and I have a mutual friend from Harvard. The three of us had the traditional Israeli breakfast (3 eggs+green salad+various cheeses+tuna/tahini+bread+hot & cold drink) at Cafe Mesulash along Dizengoff st. Of course, being the only carnivore, I’m the only one who ate tuna. Both Karin and Orit replaced the tuna with tahini. We had interesting brunch conversation about work/life balance for women in Israel and elsewhere, Israeli politics (of course, how can we avoid this topic?) and general musings about Tel Aviv.

 

After which I  gave Karin a brief tour of Ibn Gvirol st. and Rothschild Blvd, including a brief stop at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art. We ended up at Cafe Hillel an hour later (it felt like an eternity with the heat) for some frozen lemonade and ice cream.

After this, she had to take a sherut back to Haifa and I went to the corner coffee shop and finally finished (yey!) Louis Menand’s Metaphysical Club.That deserves to be the subject of another post. But for now, I am going to end my weekend by going to mass at Jaffa and watch a DVD at home with my roommate later. Too lazy to go out in this heat. Suddenly, my question “why am I here” has taken a more practical sense. And I never thought I would utter the words “I love the Cambridge winter” but I just did. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg of so many realizations swimming in my head. They are best addressed, however, not in a blog.

A tale of two press briefings and other realizations

What I would give to see the charismatic and handsome Tony Blair in his American Colony hotel office.

Instead, I saw Jimmy Carter. (of course it was great but still…)

For the past two days, I did the 40-minute trip from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to attend two press briefings. The first one by Jimmy Carter to the Israeli human rights community at the American colony hotel in Jerusalem. It wasn’t particularly impressive. He just gave us his itinerary in the region and then answered three to four questions from the press.

The second one was given by Gisha –Legal Center for Freedom of Movement (the organization I work for) and Hamoked –Center for the Defense of the Individual regarding the new Israeli procedures which effectively renders travel of Palestinians from Gaza to the West Bank impossible (unless of course its the other way around in which case, it is fine). This is the first time Israel has put in writing the criteria used to judge Gaza residents’ applications for a permit to go to the West Bank. More about the new regulations in the Jerusalem Post story here On our way back, my colleagues at work drove through Highway 443 or what they call the Apartheid Highway, and showed me all the walls, fences, and other things that divide. (It gave me an inspiration for another short story. Hope I can finish at least one by the end of summer!)

For someone whose main life revolves around the academe, its refreshing for me to see real people work in the real world, and in particular, to see a real NGO at work. And to write and research for things that actually have a definite outcome at the end. Of course, I love academia – but being outside for awhile is a nice change and makes me appreciate it even more. I had to remind myself that I’m not in academia when I had a eureka moment earlier and realized that I’m not going to write a paper or law review article around it.

On an unrelated note, I finally went to the specialty bookstore along Kikar Rabin and asked the lady for her suggestion -  if I can only buy one book (English translation of course) of an Israeli author, what would it be? She gave me A.B. Yehoshua’s The Lover, praising it as very good and very Israeli. Hmmm, I wonder what that means. I ended up getting that and Lawrence Wills’ Ancient Jewish Novels anthology. She told me to spend some time in the coffee shop and just read the book there. Too bad I need to do my laundry today. Not to mention eat something. I will do both now.

desperate measures

I attended my first Catholic mass here in Israel since my arrival. The catch is that, it was in Arabic, since Sunday is the start of the workweek and the only English mass is at nine in the morning. While I didn’t understand the sermon (only caught bits and pieces) thanks to the universal character of the Roman mass, I can respond in English in my head to whatever the priest had to say. I can read the missal slowly as well, so I knew how to do the responsorial psalm and the Gospel, except that its quite hard to understand what the whole thing means. But I suppose this is a good way to learn the language too.

What drove me to an Arabic mass today had something to do less with today being a Sunday than with something I happened to read online. For a short while, I felt like Harry Potter on Privet Drive during the summer. Oh well, c’est la vie.  For now, I’ll go back to being torn between the Iranian protests and the Bar Ilan speech.

2nd TLV weekend

Day 18 of Summer 2009. I guess I am finally getting the hang of this. (except the Friday/Saturday weekend setup, as of now)

So last Friday I went to the Tel Aviv Gay Pride Parade with Mara, after which I tagged along with her to the shuk as she bought some vegetables and cheeses. The midday heat was simply oppressive but I put mind over matter in braving it. And then my friend Barak picked me up from Mara’s apartment around 3pm. He showed me around the empty campus of Tel Aviv University, including the sports center complete with indoor swimming pools, the Faculty of Law, and the Jewish Heritage synagogue.

We ended up going to old port city of Jaffa afterwards, but not before picking up his friend Uri, somewhere in King George St. who served to be our tour guide around. We started the walk from the beach where Tel Aviv meets the sea of Jaffa and saw lots of people swimming and playing on the sand. As you can see, I took quite a number of pictures. The views of Tel Aviv from Jaffa is breathtaking, especially if you gaze at it with the waves of the Mediterranean (as you might have noticed, I’m a huge fan.) rhythmically crashing on the beach.

Jaffa itself is amazing – in fact, picturesque would be an understatement. You can read up on its fascinating history in the Wikipedia entry here.I could feel the history in the stones on its walls, the narrow steps, ponder on the pieces of art mounted on its walls, and just absorb the traditions that seem to reverberate from everywhere.

This particular door fascinated me at length. The entire door was made to look like it was carved straight out from a piece of wood, and yet evokes a very modern feel to it by the addition of the metal security keypad.

You also have these artsy pieces mounted randomly on the walls.

We also had the random but fortunate accident of being invited inside the house of famous Israeli painter and sculptor Menashe Kadishman at some point during our self-guided tour.In fact, the owner of the Hayek Contemporary Art museum also opened the doors for us. I guess looking like a foreigner, complete with a touristy Nikon slung over my shoulders, makes a local more welcoming and eager to show off one’s surroundings. Here is an example of the many provocative pieces in the museum, part of an exhibit called Anorexic Bodies.

Lastly, I finally got to see the second Catholic church in Tel Aviv (and there are only 2 of them in the entire city). Here is a picture of the interior of St. Peter’s and another picture of Jaffa at night.

Of course, my Friday night did not end there. In keeping with the Tel Aviv bubble, I went out with my colleague Itamar for a drink at half past eleven in the evening at Norman’s Bar, near Sheinkin. As usual, I got drunk (from just one full glass of the Israeli beer Dancing Camel) but I managed this time to go home in one piece.

Yesterday, I took a 1-hour sherut ride up to the northern city of Haifa where I met up with Karin, who was my classmate in Arabic 1 last term and an MIT graduate student. She is interning at Mada al-Carmel and we joined the tour of the Baha’i Gardens. We also tried our best to practice our abysmal Arabic (and fusha at that) with the amused vendors over at the Arab market.

It was a busy and exhausting weekend overall and being the lazy bum that I am, I am looking forward to just spending a quiet Saturday afternoon sipping coffee and reading a book or chatting with a friend. Maybe next weekend, I’ll do just that. More pictures from this weekend are in my Flickr album.

stam.

I have a favorite Hebrew word officially. Stam.  A general English translation would be "with/for no particular reason, purpose or cause" although it is quite functional in a myriad number of ways. I learned it during GG night the other day. But I think it best captures why I am here, or why I do the things I do or why I am like this. There. Just because. (wait, why am I picking up Hebrew anyway?? I came here for Arabic!)

This evening, I had a great dinner at the Old Port area of Tel Aviv (Tomo Sushi beside Gili’s) with a friend. And it is great that I finally I got to eat meat! But that’s not the point of this story - the best part of Tel Aviv, in my opinion is that the Mediterranean is there to soothe your nerves whenever you need it. These are some of the pictures i took while at the restaurant.

Also, I got a wish list of stuff to finish from the people at work. An intimidating list, I must say. I hope I can finish the summer and see some fruits of my labors.

drowning in conventions.

aaargh, international law. you’re driving me crazy.

An Interesting and non-swooning take on Obama’s Cairo speech re Israel and Palestine

Read here for the full article. I leave it to your comments. http://www.ssrc.org/blogs/immanent_frame/2009/06/09/obama-on-palestine-what-new-beginning/

Basically, Hirschkind says:

1. Obama said nothing new. Everything was in the Bush/Quartet road map.

2. He legitimizes all existing Israeli settlements, thereby severely delimiting the possible configurations of any future Palestinian state.

3. No mention of Israeli violence and absolves Israel of any responsibility for the plight of the Palestinians.

4. Muslim tolerance during the Inquisition?!

cosmic designs.

I’ve been familiarizing myself with the surrounding areas of my apartment for the past few days by just taking 30-minute to 1-hour walks around the neighborhood. I did not stop by the corner coffee shop today however. Yesterday, as soon as I stepped inside, the guy called out to me if I would be having the usual, and I was caught off-guard that I just said yes – even though I was looking forward to having hot tea instead of my usual light caramel ice blended coffee drink. He even knew that I’m not a big fan of whipped cream. Sigh. I figured if I’ll put on any weight here, it would not be from drinking coffee concoctions. But then again, I feel like I’ve already lost ten pounds at least. . Thanks to cosmic humor, everywhere I turn, I am surrounded by vegetarians. In fact, I’ve had humuus, salad, cucumbers and sabeekh for the past few days.

Also, last Sunday, I got propositioned by an old Israeli who probably thought all non-caucasian foreigners are aspiring prostitutes. At Landwer Coffee, of all places. He asked me quite blatantly if I can be his girlfriend for the summer. I gave him an incredulous look and replied, no thanks. There went my quiet Sabbath afternoon – just me, John Dewey and apparently, a weird old guy.

(its not all that sad though – yesterday I met new people – a bunch of fun and nice emigrants - and joined their weekly Gossip Girl night where they eat comfort foods and watch GG episodes. It was my first time to watch GG actually. Not too bad.The walk home from Dizengoff to Ben Gurion was especially relaxing.At some point I thought, maybe I like the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen each day I wake up. But maybe that’s just being masochistic again.)

Anyway, today, following my usual chat with friends across the globe after work, I just took a walk today along Ibn Gvirol towards the cinemateque area. I pondered a bit on whether to get shawarma from Daboosh on the corner of Weitzel, but decided against it. I ended up getting a cookies and cream/caramel nut ice cream combo at Iceberg. Comfort food is what I need the most at this point. I also took on a more touristy role and took pictures of Tel Aviv at dusk. Will post when I have enough.

I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter why I’m here and that I should just enjoy the city for what it’s worth. Maybe it does matter, and for as long as I don’t figure it out, maybe I’ll never be able to enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong - Tel Aviv is an amazing city, this early I can tell – no doubt about that.

It’s just not mine.

Two Harvard Historians pass away and other stuff

It seems that I will never get to meet Ernest May, one of the top historians of American foreign relations. He died recently, along with David Herbert Donald, whose Lincoln biography Lincoln, is one of the best biographies of the president in existence.

***

On a separate note, I am glad that one of the most amazing students I’ve met at Harvard won the Hoopes prize for his senior thesis, a creative writing piece. When I first met him, an English major, at our discussion section on Jihad and Islam and International Relations last term, he already struck me as an exceptional person. I wish him all the best for his new adventures in the Middle East for McKinsey.

First Tel-Aviv weekend

Now that I have finally, if not hesitantly, come to the realization that I will be here for two months, I cleaned up my room as if I will be staying here for two months to usher in a concomitant psychological change towards the the state of things.  So this weekend – meaning Friday and Saturday (this will take a bit getting used to) – Adam (who leaves for India this Monday – and which means I will officially be alone as three people I know are all leaving for somewhere this week) showed me the stuff that tourists do during the weekend, e.g. going to the Arts & Crafts fair at the Nachalat Binyamin pedestrian walkway and going around the Carmel Market. Here are some of the photos:

And then some of the fruits and vegetables here. I liked looking at the variety of colors in the market, with people shouting (in Hebrew, of course) closing time discounts and prices.

This remains to be my beacon of comfort and security though – located at the intersection of Sheinkin, King George and Nachalat Binyamin – but I didn’t eat there, of course.

Adam and I had a traditional hearty lunch of meatballs and rice/beans, and then walked around the picturesque neighborhood of Neve Tsedek where I had a banoffee and dulce de leche gelato combo. After that, we walked along Rothschild Blvd on our way home and here are some interesting scenes. It was a very relaxed Friday afternoon at Tel Aviv.

So we sat on a bench for awhile and watched people around us…including a group playing petanque. I spent Friday evening with another friend at Tvulun Beach over at Herzliya where we ate dinner literally on the beach. It was beautiful to see the almost-full moon shining brightly over the not-so violent waves of the Mediterranean crashing near our feet.

Today (Saturday), I just cleaned my room, had half a sandwich and lemonade at Landwer Coffee over at Ibn Gvirol, and then while wandering around the area of Kikar Rabin, found myself joining a demonstration protesting the 42 years of occupation of the West Bank and Gaza and supporting the two-state solution. From the streets of Manila to Tel Aviv – it seems I couldn’t get enough of rallies. For awhile, I felt like Forrest Gump or someone photoshopped in the middle of the whole scene. I mean, what am I doing here???

I met and walked alongside a nice Israeli student volunteer at UNHCR who translated for me all the Hebrew chants so at least I wasn’t that clueless. Tomorrow, I go back to work. Maybe more interesting stuff is on its way.

First week in Israel

Today marks the end of my first week in Israel. What to say….hmmm…well, as you might have noticed, it’s been a roller-coaster emotional ride. For the most part, it’s best captured by the song Stranger in a strange land. My head was full of questions such as: why did I come here (maybe I’ll answer it at the end); why do I always do these kinds of things to myself (I’ll never know why) and why did I not just go somewhere more safe and comfortable? (I don’t really know.)

If there is anything that has kept me sane for the past seven days however, it has been the daily online chats and phone calls I’ve been having with friends from different time zones. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet.

The positive thing about being on a different time zone from friends and family is that you get to celebrate an extended birthday, for three days at least. My facebook page is filled with greetings, for example. The obvious downside is that since you are in a different time zone from family and friends, then you get to celebrate alone in person, with an acquaintance or two if you’re lucky. But I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It certainly took the cake for me. It also did something else though. As a dear friend wisely suggested, I should just go out and wander around, maybe even dare to be lost. Maybe I’ll get back my writing mojo from undergoing this kind of experience. I’m working on a new short story as of this writing. Who knows – maybe for once, I’ll get to finish it. That would indeed be something.

Wistful, hopeful, what-have-you. Tomorrow, I’ll post pictures from Nachalat Binyamin and the beaches of Tel Aviv.

p.s. I had the weird coincidence of eating at the Coffee Bar located in Yad Harutzim today for both lunch (grilled chicken breast) and dinner (seafood pasta). I like the ambiance of the place. Will definitely go back. Not just tomorrow.

beginnings.

First stanza from Wallace Stevens’ Sunday Morning:

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.

A Birthday Greeting from Tel Aviv – An Imaginary letter

Greetings stranger! Welcome to the well-worn shores of the liveliest city in the Promised Land, where every square is contested, where every truth has two sides and where the sacred and profane wonderfully coexist.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

I hope you are finding your way around my countless squares, sipping coffees from my beloved cafes (don’t you just love the fact that I have no Starbucks here?), and having delectable feasts in my fine restaurants. I have several suggestions in mind but I’ll leave it to your adventurous palate for discovery.

I see you’ve been to the pretty boulevards in my midst. Didn’t you enjoy watching families, teenagers, pets and what-have-you converge on such a narrow strip? An island of normalcy in an otherwise river of insanity? Well, that was part of the plan.

I write because I feel truly delighted that you chose to celebrate your special day with me. Chosen – well, I notice that you don’t really like that word a lot these days. So you feel it was a reckless idea to come here in the first place? Good grief. Stop whining. There is no such thing as an accident, in my opinion. Cheer up, you’re stuck with me for the next two months. Let us make the most out of it. How so, you ask. Well, I have some interesting ideas. But you can start by standing up and not sulking in the corner for being stupid/brave (whichever you are in the mood to use) in coming here, not knowing one word of my beautiful language and not being able to answer countless questions why you came in the first place. You see -I am good at drawing people in. It’s not you – it’s me. Who can resist my charms?

So sit back, relax or wander around. Get Lost. Be found. The Mediterranean is there to soothe your ears. I guarantee that you will come back and feel that it was, at least, for two months, like home.

Love and best wishes for an exciting year ahead,

the city that never sleeps,Tel Aviv

At work.

So this is the organization I work for.

And here’s an animated 90-second movie that they produced. http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=IL&feature=fvst&v=yIwASYuDGYM

You (my family especially) can reach me at +972549934176.

Everything is fine. Doomsday drills notwithstanding.

Lost in Translation

TEL AVIV, ISRAEL - I seem to have overestimated my capacity to immerse myself in a place where I don't speak the language. Hebrew is as greek as quantum physics to me. And I am really skeptical now of the whole idea of Israel as a foreigner-friendly city - sure, almost everybody speaks English but all the signs (not the road ones) are in Hebrew. There is something glorious about globalization and brand names for now, e.g. I couldn't tell which one is a facial wash and a feminine wash in the grocery store so I ended up buying a Dove combo pack of hand cream and facial wash because it was the only one which had a clear indication in English. For everything else, you'll just have to go by the picture on the package or the appearance of the merchandise itself, e.g. pale yellow for lemonade, orange for orange, a yellowish color for humuus, etc.

In any case, the translation difficulties are just the tip of the iceberg.

The next time I think of something crazy such as staying in a foreign place for more than two weeks of non-touristy activities, I hope someone would come and knock my head against the wall. I wish I am back in the States soon.

Some Pictures Around Jerusalem

I spent the weekend in Jerusalem with my friend Adam where we attended a conference on judicial review (yes, can't get enough of law stuff it seems) at Hebrew University last Sunday.

Last Saturday, Adam took me to lunch in the Abu Ghosh restaurant located in the town of the same name, an Israeli-Arab town west of Jerusalem on the Tel-Aviv Jerusalem highway. We ate humuus, kabobs and I had the best lemon juice ever.

And then we went to see parts of the Old City. Due to time constraints, I will just have to come back again to comb through all the different quarters. But here are some of the photos I took.

After a brief stop at the Wailing Wall (since it was Shabbat, photography of the plaza was forbidden), we proceeded via the Via Dolorosa to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

A woman about to kiss the Stone of the Anointing.

An open window near the dome above the Tomb of Christ.

And then we asked somebody to take a picture of Adam and I before we left.

More pictures can be found in my flickr album here.