tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31704914828522970872024-03-13T07:56:33.962-07:00Tel Aviv RooftopA place to record and reflect from the vantage point of a Tel-Aviv rooftop.Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.comBlogger261125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-83510631643693854342023-03-19T10:29:00.090-07:002023-03-20T04:46:48.142-07:00My Unfinished Apartheid Thriller<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBanGtkqPDNDt3qeM1n3kli3A_zE3UjAVf9aSCU2rmEOkGuCUW7J4pvojqtI99zCSuDoxUX__Ypbvd2IYLIfJwIQbnXtEU3HeF9-A6vbksCY_VHSAyFWlNS4YVnCzSV669ihReRURIIyXD21lH7jVdEu5IUakspwjd1z83JY06ij2yUfjl6Lgd2KYCHg/s1024/DALL%C2%B7E%202022-12-07%2020.50.20%20-%20an%20Israeli%20prime%20minister%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBanGtkqPDNDt3qeM1n3kli3A_zE3UjAVf9aSCU2rmEOkGuCUW7J4pvojqtI99zCSuDoxUX__Ypbvd2IYLIfJwIQbnXtEU3HeF9-A6vbksCY_VHSAyFWlNS4YVnCzSV669ihReRURIIyXD21lH7jVdEu5IUakspwjd1z83JY06ij2yUfjl6Lgd2KYCHg/w401-h410/DALL%C2%B7E%202022-12-07%2020.50.20%20-%20an%20Israeli%20prime%20minister%20.png" width="401" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> An Israeli Prime Minister as imagined by the DALL-E AI programme </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> About six months ago, I was revisited by the writing bug and decided to try my hand at fiction - a "diplomatic thriller" to be more specific. The choice of genre was not dictated by any literary preferences. I'm not a big fan of thrillers. But the idea was to use the thriller as the most suitable vehicle to write about what was really bugging me - Israel's inevitable slide into apartheid. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> I also thought that my professional experience might come in handy. For more than two decades I worked as the press officer for the EU Delegation to Israel and followed the sometimes turbulent relations between Israel and the European Union from the vantage point of an Israeli working inside the EU, in other words as someone with a split identity. I believed that this familiarity with the mind-sets and decision making processes of both sides would somehow provide me with the tools to weave a believable tale. The pace would be fast, skipping between Tel Aviv and East Jerusalem, the West Bank and Brussels. It was to be a diplomatic comedy of errors, poking fun at the hypocrisy, arrogance and ignorance of the Europeans, the hypocrisy and growing nationalistic, messianic extremism of the Israelis and the hypocrisy and adamant rejectionism of the Palestinians. But while the tone was supposed to be relatively light hearted, the underlying message was serious. Unless Israel changes course rapidly it is on a slippery slope to becoming internationally recognised as an apartheid state. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> I sketched out a rough plotline. The year is circa 2028. Bibi has signed a plea bargain and has been replaced by a more hawkish prime minister (Matityahu Eshel) yet he too is a captive of his ultra-nationalist and ultra-orthodox coalition partners. Israel is cracking down on Palestinian efforts to regain a modicum of control of Area C, considered in Israel to be "ours", but has yet to formally annex it. In the EU Delegation to Israel in Tel Aviv, an Anglo-Israeli press officer (Michael Kaye) torn between clashing identities, has to navigate his way through a crisis in EU-Israel relations while trying to explain the EU position to a hostile Israeli media. The crisis is triggered by a tragic clash on a misty night in a fictional West Bank village. Local Palestinians are trying to replant their olive grove and regain it from the 'hilltop youth' hooligans of a nearby illegal settlement. The planting operation is funded by the EU as part of a new push to safeguard Palestinian land rights in Area C and a Belgian EU humanitarian aid worker has joined as an observer. Meanwhile, a Palestinian militant has been tipped off and is watching through the telescopic night-sights of his sniper rifle. The Palestinian tree planters are attacked by scores of club-wielding hilltop youth while a squad of soldiers looks on without intervening. The Palestinian militant fires at the soldiers, badly injuring one. The other soldiers, believing that the fire came from the olive tree planters, return fire, killing the EU humanitarian aid worker. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span> </span>Public opinion on both sides is shocked and appalled. The Israeli media focusses on the EU's blatant intervention in Area C, contrary to the Oslo Accords. European public opinion focusses on Israel's "war crimes" and demands an independent investigation. Israel refuses. The EU responds by demanding that all settlers request a visa to enter the EU's Schengen Area. A furious PM Eshel cries antisemitism and instigates wide ranging anti-terror operations. This, in quick succession, sparks a Third Intifada, the dissolution of the weak and corrupt Palestinian Authority and a decision in the midst of the havoc by Eshel and his allies to annex Area C. Israel is now directly responsible for three million Palestinians in the West Bank but is willing to grant citizenship only to those who voluntarily swear allegiance to Israel "as the nation state of the Jewish people". A new Palestinian protest movement arises, demanding equal rights for <i>all </i>Israeli subjects between the Jordan and the sea. The UN General Assembly passes a resolution declaring Israel an apartheid state. Israel's liberal, secular elite flees the country. Refugees Michael Kaye and his EU-Palestinian opposite number (on a Hamas hit list) meet up in Brussels and decide to open a joint consulting business (or possibly a Middle Eastern restaurant).</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span> </span>Problems with this fictional scenario first appeared in flashing lights on November 1st, 2022 when Netanyahu won the elections with the help of two ultra-orthodox and three ultra-nationalist, racist, messianic and homophobic parties that he had forged into one list. From then on the plausibility of my plotline started to rapidly unravel. It soon turned out that the combined interests of the coalition partners - of Bibi (the accused) to stay out of jail, of Shas leader Arye Deri (the convicted) to be appointed to two ministerial posts, of the haredi parties (the indispensable) to avoid teaching core subjects and performing army service, and of (wacko pyromaniacs) Ben Gvir and Smotrich to gain control of West Bank settlement and the Israel Police - demanded a radical "judicial overhaul". This would largely emasculate and politicise the judiciary and leave all real power in the hands of the ruling coalition. Or as the Opposition put it, create, "a theocratic dictatorship". Liberal, secular Israelis take to the streets en masse week after week to defend democracy. Hundreds of economists as well as The Economist warn of a collapse as high-tech companies move their money abroad. Crack volunteer army and air force units who could be indicted by the International Criminal Court in the absence of an independent judiciary, threaten not to fight for a dictatorship. A government minister tells them to "go to hell". The US sends one envoy after another to warn Netanyahu to slow down. Netanyahu takes off with Sarah for Paris, Berlin and Rome. Sarah reserves 60 hotel rooms at the public's expense so as to stay at her favourite hotel against the advice of the Shin Bet. Decades of pent up frustrations on both sides of the argument rise to the surface in an orgy of verbal and increasingly physical violence. All compromise attempts fall flat. President Herzog says, "The last few weeks have been tearing us apart. Israel is in the throes of a profound crisis. Anyone who thinks that a real civil war, of human life, is a line that we will not reach has no idea. The abyss is within touching distance." </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> At first I tried to desperately rewrite the chapters I had already drafted to make them fit the new political situation. Yet the pace of events was so fast and furious that I soon gave up, stunned, bruised and battered like everyone else. No match for reality, my fictional scenario, irrelevant and obsolete, supposed to take place <i>only in five years' time</i>, lay in whatever is the equivalent of tatters in a computer. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> I should have known better. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Whatever happens next, Israel will never be the same again. </div></div>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-59882012074629968842022-08-08T02:38:00.005-07:002022-08-08T02:39:22.925-07:00Four Views From the Roof - West<iframe src="https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSX4QrfXiSHFZXB-H_cyqZujLTP-KqlEGauicOCd7mrecbhEaU0GPqDmsv9PHXgdn2JCgJdpwM3GSlI/pub?embedded=true" width=800 height=500 ></iframe>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-30601580450220265712022-08-08T02:28:00.004-07:002022-08-08T02:28:54.547-07:00Four Views From the Roof - South<p> </p>
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<iframe src="https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vTPHWwGGNmIsfuKwCId4-3wOFZYZuFj0LuivKcg697q_VeQ-0cnCPAZO4o9fWXFmOCOx8c38DsTjqsW/pub?embedded=true" width=800 height=500 ></iframe>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-45383413545987603892022-07-31T07:34:00.085-07:002022-08-07T07:33:39.322-07:00Four Views From the Roof - Introduction<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Four Views From the Roof </span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTe88biUE4jBVDo2xhBNs0pOwIOBxvsLme5Yn2XXB-ynh70efKL3ykzdJR7fGqsHtMYkiYsKm2so07JMFYvncrLhLIKMFRtdZVv_yV7-qu0kCgYRcJUXLBliFG1sE6v5qTJLO6BN-lTbOK1lYUu_2vsVGQo_H63c7_28JL9UqsYrzZraC6ccCrO3kEQ/s4032/OVERALL%20COVER.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTe88biUE4jBVDo2xhBNs0pOwIOBxvsLme5Yn2XXB-ynh70efKL3ykzdJR7fGqsHtMYkiYsKm2so07JMFYvncrLhLIKMFRtdZVv_yV7-qu0kCgYRcJUXLBliFG1sE6v5qTJLO6BN-lTbOK1lYUu_2vsVGQo_H63c7_28JL9UqsYrzZraC6ccCrO3kEQ/w346-h409/OVERALL%20COVER.jpg" width="346" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Introduction </span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: justify;"> In 1994, against the advice of friends and family, we managed to scrape together the deposit for a dilapidated three room, third floor flat in an old apartment building on Yehuda Halevi Street in south Tel Aviv. </span><span style="text-align: justify;">It was all we could afford if we wanted to put down a stake in Tel Aviv. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The building and its environs literally reeked of negligence. The once impressive but now deserted building opposite ours that had once served as a courthouse, was populated by </span><span style="font-size: medium;">drunks and junkies. To the west was tumbledown Neve Tzedek just starting to attract artists and students. To the east was a business area heavy on cheap eateries, wholesale textiles and low-end fashion outlets. Old men on tricycles navigated long bales of textiles against the traffic on the narrow streets (and still do). On parallel Lilienblum Street, dubious characters would whisper “Dollar? Dollar?” to passers-by interested in by-passing official restrictions against holding foreign currency. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Yet it didn’t take us long to realise that, behind the scruffy exterior, we had, by chance, landed in a fascinating location. Our building was situated between Neve Tzedek - the first Jewish suburb of Jaffa - and Tel Aviv - the ‘First Hebrew City’. In fact, the whole area was packed with character and history, interesting architecture, streets alive with commerce and trades and a heterogeneous human mix not to be found in north where we had spent our first four Tel Aviv years. We also discovered that our building, completed in 1937, was in the “Bauhaus” or “International Style”, soon to become fashionable in Israeli architecture and popular on the Tel Aviv real estate market. To cap it all, it was also close to the beach. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The deck we built on the roof above our apartment provides an elevated view of the Mediterranean and catches the sea breeze. Standing there gives you the illusion of standing on the prow of a ship, separated from the city that you know spreads all around you. It was probably this vantage point that gave me the idea of trying to write about the city I have inhabited for the past thirty two years, and have grown to love. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span>Soon, that vantage point will disappear. Our listed Bauhaus building is now aged 85 and is showing every sign of wear and tear. If all goes well, it will soon be strengthened, rejuvenated and beautified by means of a conservation and building project. But the simple old roof with its whitewashed walls and the little </span><i>budkeh</i><span> - originally used as a communal laundry – will be gone. Another reason to exploit the rooftop perspective while I still can. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Having made the decision, all I had to do was carry out my project. This involved over a year of digging into Tel Aviv’s history and excavating my own thoughts and personal experiences.
One of the things I discovered along the way was a relative lack of detailed information in English. The best source of historical information and photos, <a href="https://sites.google.com/a/tlv100.net/tlv100/">tlv100</a> – the online Tel Aviv encyclopaedia - is available only in Hebrew. A Wikipedia entry on say, Meir Dizengoff, will be far more comprehensive in Hebrew than in English. So hopefully, Four Views From the Roof will find its way to non-Hebrew speakers interested in knowing more about Tel Aviv and its history. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Four Views From the Roof is made up of four chapters, each discussing a compass direction as seen from the roof. While I have tried to make each chapter self-standing, anyone interested in the full story is advised to read the chapters in the order in which I wrote them: West, East, South, North. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Special thanks to Batya Shomrony for opening up her library, to Edna Gurney for her literary advice and to my wife Avril for her wise feedback and editing. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">David Kriss </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">June 2022 </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1ECqlWu9LpTpb4dDMZb_2GOhC6xfrGMQa9glya0_-XHkvseOD7RlRTzTBZld2HwO8DgwYbI3xm04PdbsX-fO09CRs0ZDMwi4jwkoLNsDaKFwXw--uvVXWxgH8QfImGyMbBKv3kDOEQPb4TBP8hK36QLfCgiAQAQaPCR3BHbGzXxcHeQBtCLMQS5hIA/s3008/INTRO.JPG" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="3008" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1ECqlWu9LpTpb4dDMZb_2GOhC6xfrGMQa9glya0_-XHkvseOD7RlRTzTBZld2HwO8DgwYbI3xm04PdbsX-fO09CRs0ZDMwi4jwkoLNsDaKFwXw--uvVXWxgH8QfImGyMbBKv3kDOEQPb4TBP8hK36QLfCgiAQAQaPCR3BHbGzXxcHeQBtCLMQS5hIA/w555-h269/INTRO.JPG" width="555" /></span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: center;"> Facing Jaffa 2009</span><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <i>Among books consulted: </i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Not in Jaffa and Not in Tel Aviv – Stories, testimonies and documents from the Shapira Neighbourhood, edited by Muki Tzur and Sharon Rothbard. (Hebrew only) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Blue and White in Color: Visual Images of Zionism 1897-1947 edited by Rachel Arbel (English) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A Dream That Became a Metropolis – Tel Aviv, Birth and Growth: the City that Spawned a State by Ilan Shchori (Hebrew only) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> White City, Black City by Sharon Rothbard (I read the 2005 Hebrew version but an English version was published in 2015). </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> City of Oranges – Arabs and Jews in Jaffa by Adam LeBor (English only and highly recommended) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The Early Years of Tel Aviv, 1909-1934, Edited by Dr. Mordechai Naor (Hebrew only)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Imprisoned by its Images -A Short History and Profile of the State of Tel Aviv, by Prof. Maoz Azaria (Hebrew only) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The History of Tel Aviv – From Neighbourhoods to a City 1909-1936. by Ya’akov Shavit and Gidon Biger. (Hebrew only) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The Days of Dizengoff – Tel Aviv 1909 -1936 by Yoav Regev (Hebrew only) </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfx1fLsQ4WtU2nLXFfHDmj5xwBkbv7M0fsIIDdcb472vUmW05h1wY3ey3r1vOmLqfM8HQQUfWi_4i4lNZUCGY-dGqsbmspMAw5nLgkP__msOoQHFvG4jnQKHG1jeCT6rPXneXmifpD9qOWD_9KkiW2PQo4l_9Nl3pfRQKyeowmC1zymi3ZSn3BgM0iQ/s4000/TODAY.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfx1fLsQ4WtU2nLXFfHDmj5xwBkbv7M0fsIIDdcb472vUmW05h1wY3ey3r1vOmLqfM8HQQUfWi_4i4lNZUCGY-dGqsbmspMAw5nLgkP__msOoQHFvG4jnQKHG1jeCT6rPXneXmifpD9qOWD_9KkiW2PQo4l_9Nl3pfRQKyeowmC1zymi3ZSn3BgM0iQ/w399-h319/TODAY.JPG" width="399" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">5 Yehuda Halevi Street 2019</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ⓒ David Kriss 2022</div><div style="text-align: center;">All rights reserved</div>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-3223011823552082102020-03-04T12:22:00.000-08:002020-03-05T08:51:33.347-08:00Three Philippines Scenes<br />
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<b>A trip downtown <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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We are staying with our gracious Filipino hosts in Santa
Rita, a suburb of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olongapo">Olongapo,</a>
a city of about 240,000 situated on the coast, a two hour drive north-west of Manilla.
The street outside the family compound is buzzing. Mom and pop stores and street
restaurants are doing brisk business. By 11 a.m. pupils in school uniforms are
returning for their lunch break after starting at 6 a.m. A peddler yells “taho!”
- a popular breakfast drink made of silken tofu and tapioca pearls. There’s
plenty to see here but today we’re going downtown.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprhvYXaMtIcZY5FsVJhvw8_087CGgNM4P6PSOUG7n_TtDC-kpRsAIdWQpL24VAyUaqD9PmMaDctj27RuugUqExIBL-IeAs2qyAqdhqLEMv04IZQh-PRsn31dsyVholGH80EMitImMwKUB/s1600/P1140746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprhvYXaMtIcZY5FsVJhvw8_087CGgNM4P6PSOUG7n_TtDC-kpRsAIdWQpL24VAyUaqD9PmMaDctj27RuugUqExIBL-IeAs2qyAqdhqLEMv04IZQh-PRsn31dsyVholGH80EMitImMwKUB/s320/P1140746.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Getting to downtown <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olongapo">Olongapo</a> involves two trips using public transportation, first by a motorized tricycle or tuk tuk taxi and then
by a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeepney">jeepney</a> bus (originally
made from leftover American jeeps). Both vehicles are canvases for the Filipino
art form of kitsch decorations that add anarchic flashes of colour to the streets.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of them also carry the uplifting municipal
slogans – “Transparency and Good Governance”, “Aim High Olongapo” - to be found
on available spaces throughout the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In fact, my first impression is that Olongapo municipality is
expert at window dressing, not only via the ubiquitous inspirational slogans but also for
example by lining the badly lit streets with massive electric red hearts in
honour of Valentine Day. This, in a bid perhaps, to cover up the less attractive
sites of neglect and disrepair? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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M. an Olongapo native now living in New York notes, while
scrunched into a jeepney, that while public transportation in the Philippines
is uncomfortable and polluting, it’s also cheap and readily available. If you
miss your train in New York, you’re looking at an expensive Uber ride home, she
says. Here you can pick up a tuk tuk in a jiffy for a few cents.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Passengers get on and off, money is passed along to the
driver Tel Aviv <i>sherut</i> style. An older man gets on and sits opposite
M. It’s her godfather, a respected teacher, and she places his hand on her brow as a sign of respect for her elders. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later a
young person does the same to me. Unused to such demonstrations of respect, I’m taken
aback.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The big public market has plenty of attractions, especially
in the food section but before long the heat, noise and pollution in the chaotic
streets are taking their toll and M. leads us across a river into a much quieter zone.</div>
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This is formally known as the Subic Bay Special Economic and
Freeport Zone and until 1992 was the site of a massive US naval base. No fuel-guzzling
jeepneys and noisy tuk tuks here and no shanty towns either. Instead, gleaming
white taxis and expensive SUVs glide along wide straight roads lined with malls,
cinemas and restaurants and the offices of international corporations. The
Freeport is now run by a special authority which “provides tax and duty free
privileges and incentives to business locators in the special economic zone.” There are guards at the entrances and the
entire area functions under its own traffic rules (First to stop at a junction,
first to go). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mjq4SKHv4uN_neto4su_FSxvwRIbtfoQtsR8alHeHqMysjlRN0ZMK5CCiYlggBR1vJXRqGv0HCj9KUdV97AHJLum0clVCUKcA2xCPNr5Ei-5zhW4kg6a3Acnii1sGc1IhJFm8awdxNKb/s1600/P1140733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mjq4SKHv4uN_neto4su_FSxvwRIbtfoQtsR8alHeHqMysjlRN0ZMK5CCiYlggBR1vJXRqGv0HCj9KUdV97AHJLum0clVCUKcA2xCPNr5Ei-5zhW4kg6a3Acnii1sGc1IhJFm8awdxNKb/s400/P1140733.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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To my eyes, the contrast between messy, rundown, Olongapo and
its sanitized neighbour Freeport is blatant. A swanky “international” showcase on
one side of the river and its poor cousin on the other. But a bit of
digging reveals that the departure of the Americans that allowed the Freeport
to be established was actually instrumental in turning around Olongapo’s fortunes. In the 1960s when its
bars and brothels served thousands of US servicemen, Olongapo was considered “sin city”. Yet today
it is considered a national “model”, known for its “innovative methods of urban
management” and is the recipient of numerous awards. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So much for first impressions.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>An indigenous meal <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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A short drive from Olongapo city, leads us into a lush tropical
forest. We stop at a spot called Pamulaklakin, the home of an indigenous family
group belonging to the Aeta people, themselves belonging to the wider Negrito
group, one of the Philippine’s many ethnic minorities and sometimes referred to
as the aborigines of the Philippines. Our hosts have developed a close relationship
with them and have arranged a cook out. We bring the food, they cook – indigenous
forest-dwellers style. </div>
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We traipse down a
path accompanied by two friendly indigenous ladies with fearsome machetes tied
to their waists, cross a bridge and set up camp alongside a stream in a shady
area with a few tables and benches.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ladies disappear into the forest. Chopping sounds. The ladies
reappear clutching long poles of bamboo which they now expertly lop into
cooking sized cylinders. Short and very accurate cuts create a replaceable
window for cooking rice. Another few cuts produce bamboo tongs for handling the
food. We are amazed by their expertise. A
fire has been lit and the bamboo ‘pots’ have been filled with mussels, pork,
rice, fish and vegetables. They simmer on the fire while we paddle in the sun-dappled
stream, dazzled by the butterflies and water insects.<br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">Soon, the food is poured out of the bamboo cooking pots, we share
a delicious meal and offer our compliments to the proud chefs. The organic
leftovers are gathered in banana leaves and buried. </span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I hear later that there is a community of displaced indigenous
people living in Olongapo City where they live in poor conditions, among other
things, because of their limited skills. We westerners wouldn’t last a
week in their forest while the ostensibly “primitive” Aeta ladies who efficiently
cooked a meal for 12 people using only a machete, could only feel redundant in a modern shopping mall. This is one country with different groups of people living in vastly different stages of development. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Bucana beach<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVhn5P4UMttFnCqBPBxWhWZ3Auw1uZcSSZTBepmQYb4oS7VQvflBHDPTtrXkHGV4eODZnLQ744QCvpRnCwyh-uKoI9ykIYFd79OK9N-uijw4abIpatMk6wuAlQ2N92v0bLvs1pre6itqG/s1600/P1140845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVhn5P4UMttFnCqBPBxWhWZ3Auw1uZcSSZTBepmQYb4oS7VQvflBHDPTtrXkHGV4eODZnLQ744QCvpRnCwyh-uKoI9ykIYFd79OK9N-uijw4abIpatMk6wuAlQ2N92v0bLvs1pre6itqG/s400/P1140845.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
We are in Bucana, a fishing village perched along the mouth
of a river in the El NIdo District of Palawan Island. We have already spent a
few days exploring this beautiful coastline with its archipelago of unpopulated
islands rising dramatically from the sea. Island hopping for tourists is a
mainstay of the local economy and we hear that obtaining a license to operate a
tour boat can take years. As everywhere else, it helps to know the right
people.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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Now on our last stop in Palawan, the idea is to just chill
and read in an isolated spot with no commercial distractions. Bucana certainly fits
the bill. The river cuts the village in two and crossing it to get to the beach
involves us carrying our luggage over a hanging bridge made of planks and
twisted wire.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Safe and sound at Zhaya’s Beach and Cottages (recommended), one of only
three simple camps on the long, unspoiled beach, we can unwind in the shade of the
coconut palms and observe life at our leisure. The beach is a thoroughfare for the people
living along it and for us observers provides a clean, backdrop that focuses the
eye on whoever happens to be crossing it at the time: a family of four on one motorbike;
a gaggle of children chasing a dog wearing a dress; a lady carrying a parasol or a
water buffalo dragging a sled laden with bags of rice and a little boy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQmMJk-la_9eq00W2iCieOGUkX_a0RdqdjDcRWriKewbINkActNoisIL7Qd-rXYKPc8cRPkFVCFuNXNZXFQiqOjkddEXJQa80n3XW0zpeLejlFOFHKDNl0mdkumiOatJj609ttoL46HzZ/s1600/Bucana+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQmMJk-la_9eq00W2iCieOGUkX_a0RdqdjDcRWriKewbINkActNoisIL7Qd-rXYKPc8cRPkFVCFuNXNZXFQiqOjkddEXJQa80n3XW0zpeLejlFOFHKDNl0mdkumiOatJj609ttoL46HzZ/s400/Bucana+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We wander along the ramshackle lanes of the village between
the tin and palm frond dwellings and simple shops all selling the same snacks
and drinks, say hello to the friendly barefoot children who ask “What’s your name?” in
English. I take photos and the kids are happy to pose but at some point I feel uncomfortable
wandering around this “authentic” but abjectly poor village with my fancy digital
camera like some western colonialist documenting the “natives”. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Not that the people of Bucana seem unhappy. The children in
particular, here and in other rural areas we visited, are often seen in little
giggling gangs, deeply engrossed in games involving little more than a wheel on
a stick. Even without understanding Tagalog you could see that they were
actually using their imagination to play. Sometimes, less can be more. </div>
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As I watch the fishermen putting out to sea in their simple <i>bangka
</i>boats in a scene that might not have changed for centuries, I pan to a
woman peering into a smartphone outside a family shop and then start spotting the
TV antennas on the rooftops. Bucana is not disconnected from the outside world.
It sits on the border between the traditional and the new and seems to accept
both with equanimity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Everywhere we went in the Philippines we met warm and friendly
people and were often struck by their humility and modesty. Life is hard for so many of them yet they seem
to face it with a fatalism and a carefree attitude, alongside a deep attachment
to family and friends, that we spoiled westerners could find instructive. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByXm3pJO4Co5yIgQ0r5zymEmt4UMNSXHoNeIWWKipd5T7knWV3g6He0RDsrjNtR-vmHpmc3uN11cnqWSvEsRdPKfABtSaSsu_rGKK4p6-EEQ8NwssByw5fmk0FRMUIFCP7ctPx7aCziv2/s1600/Bucana+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByXm3pJO4Co5yIgQ0r5zymEmt4UMNSXHoNeIWWKipd5T7knWV3g6He0RDsrjNtR-vmHpmc3uN11cnqWSvEsRdPKfABtSaSsu_rGKK4p6-EEQ8NwssByw5fmk0FRMUIFCP7ctPx7aCziv2/s400/Bucana+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Grateful thanks goes to the De Jesus Lumibao family for
their generous hospitality. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-32138799520842065002020-01-21T02:54:00.001-08:002020-01-21T02:54:50.985-08:00Ends and Beginnings - Confessions of a dad band member<br />
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We coalesced in the early oughts, four, middle-aged men with
full time day jobs and families, closet strummers and pickers looking for
something more. For years, Danny B and I had been playing acoustic guitars and
Zev and Danny Z had been sawing away on electric guitars. But by the time the two musical duos got
together and became a quartet, Danny B was also playing bass and I was taking my
first steps as a rock drummer. Mmm …two guitarists, drums, bass– a classic
lineup. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to realize <i>the</i> definitive male
boomer fantasy - and play in a rock band.</div>
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We jammed, we clicked, we sensed we had a future and we decided
to call ourselves Midlife Crisis. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Rehearsals began in the moldy air raid shelter of our apartment
building, and graduated to a series of bare-bones rehearsal spaces in nearby Florentin.
It was cool to hang with younger, unknown bands wrapping up their sessions before ours or coming in after us, to compare styles and sounds and to feel that we too belonged
to the same scruffy musical fraternity of little gigs and big dreams. Every
band had its own style, its own sound, but we were all scratching the same
itch. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Eventually, we found a permanent rehearsal home at <span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://www.ambience.rocks/videos">Ambience Studios</a></span>,
suitably situated on the seedy side of Ramat Gan, under the friendly management
of Dar Nahmias (a.k.a Dari).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For about a
decade we met there every two weeks (at best) for intensive four hour sessions.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Entering the initial hush of that soundproofed room,
anticipating the earsplitting electric wail that would soon envelop it, was
like walking on hallowed ground. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
Hendrix poster hung above the raised dais for the drum set. Here was the entry
point to an alternative universe in which we would shed our workaday personas
and morph into Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Mick Jagger, Neil Young. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Fun and games at Ambience Studios.</i><br />
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But first, we had to become a ‘real’ band, and since we’d
decided to concentrate on original material, we needed to forge our own repertoire.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are a keen amateur but most of your playing is done
solo in the kitchen, it’s easy to get stuck in a musical rut. Yes, you might
excel at performing your personal well-worn bag of blues riffs, folk tunings,
jazz chords, bass lines, drum breaks or whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And inside your own echo chamber, as you loop
proficiently through the tricks you’ve learned, you may feel like you’re in
control. However when plunked down with other amateurs, each with his own
particular set of weaknesses, and your aim is to turn rough song ideas into
tightly arranged, rock diamonds, matters can lurch out of control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Not being trained musicians, and with no clear “leader” we
had no choice but to become a band the hard way: through trial and error, false
starts, screwed up middles and messy endings, endless repetition,
experimentation and fine tuning, all accompanied by democratic discussion. It
was hard going. Each song had to be painfully stitched together. Songs that
didn’t work for everyone were ditched. So were songs that everyone liked in
principle but we couldn’t get right. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Essential to getting it right was to find the <i>groove</i>.
Either the groove was there or it wasn’t. And for it to be there, all four of
us had to have it simultaneously. When it <i>was</i> there, with all of us
floating together in perfect, natural sync, it felt like we had attained a
higher state of consciousness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Mistakes were the norm and frazzled nerves would
occasionally flare. Like a foursome in a compulsive relationship, the same old
accusations would be levelled over who was: speeding up the tempo/ playing too
loud/ not coming in at the right place/ cutting into the vocals/ forgetting the
harmony/ not indicating that the song was ending?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Sometimes, work on a song would veer off at a tangent into an
endless jam that started as hard rock and somehow evolved into long stoned atmospheric
meanderings that seemed to carry deep meaning. “Why didn’t we record that!” we would
cry in despair, deeply conscious that a rare and precious moment of magic had
been lost to posterity. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Somehow, at a glacial rate, through a combination of donkey
work and occasional flashes of creativity, each new song took on a little more
style and distinction. <o:p></o:p></div>
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By the end of a rehearsal we were wiped clean, our heads
pulsating, wearing inane smiles yet bound together by the sonic vibrations we had
created. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We schlepped our gear down the grimy
stairwell (soon to be visited by the local hookers and junkies) and headed back
into the real world. Each session ended with faithful vows to learn the parts we’d
flubbed, at home. Rarely have vows been broken so frequently. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve been writing songs since I was a teenager and there was
a period back in the late 1970s when I was (occasionally) paid for writing
English lyrics for Israeli artists trying to make it overseas but output
throughout my 30’s and 40’s had been limited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now, in my 50’s, I was in a band that needed new material and I ended up
doing most of the writing. Sometimes it would be an entire song from scratch
and sometimes the inspiration (a line, a phrase, a chorus) would come from
another band member and I’d complete the picture. Apart from the eternal theme
of romantic relations, MLC’s lyrics tended to fall into three categories: songs,
influenced by living in Israel, that foresaw impending disaster (Smart, Shaky
Ground, War Zone, It’s Gonna Blow); songs about the frustrations of middle age
(Midlife Crisis, Dirty Old Man, Dreams, Change) and songs that took a swipe at
organised religion (God Doesn’t Pick Up the Phone, Urgent, He Come Down In a
Big Machine).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Once we had finally cobbled together enough original songs -
with a few covers thrown in for audience recognition - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we started playing gigs in small, dingy clubs
in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. Friends, family and workmates were all co-opted into
attending in a bid to cover the bar expenses. The audiences we scraped together
seemed to like what we were doing, and there’s nothing like the adrenaline rush
you get from a live performance, crammed onto a tiny stage with the audience a
few feet away. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Gig at the Bloom Bar, Tel Aviv, 2008.</i><br />
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But it soon became clear that creating a fan base was going
to be challenging. The sort of challenge that, frankly, we didn’t have the
energy to invest in. After a few gigs, even the existing core family and
friends group was flagging. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, gigs turned
out to be few and far between, among them <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a charity race for early detection of colon
cancer, a festival at community centre in Haifa (audience - five Ethiopian
children and an old lady who was knitting a sweater), and several Purim parties...
There was semi-humorous talk of a tour of old age homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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With hindsight, with only 8 hours a month (including set ups
and beer breaks) to work with, it was inevitable that Midlife Crisis would
spend most of its time rehearsing. In fact we agreed that our rehearsals were
often at a higher level than our performances. There was talk of inviting
people to “open rehearsals”. This idea had the added allure of being able to
shrug off mistakes by exclaiming “That’s why it’s a rehearsal!”</div>
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Eventually, in 2011, we issued a CD called <span class="MsoHyperlink"><b><a href="https://soundcloud.com/mid-life-crisis-band-1/tracks">Emergency Generator</a></b></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(click and scroll down to listen). Listening to it now,
and whatever its faults, you can hear in the tight, fluid playing that those
hundreds of hours of rehearsals paid off (although the magic weaved by the
studio technicians also helped). Listening to it back then, hot off the CD
press, we could proudly say, “We’re a band, and we rock!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We never had illusions of actually making money from Midlife
Crisis and the album was not released commercially. Instead we gave away the CD
to friends and relations and at gigs. We also sent it to radio stations. Total radio
play consisted of one track (Ecstasy) being played on one occasion on <i>Or Lagoyim</i>
(A light unto the nations”) a programme that featured Israeli artists singing
in English on the now sadly departed Kol Hakampus (106 FM) local radio station.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not many people heard <i>Emergency Generator</i> but some
who did told us that they loved it, that it was “their” sort of music, that it
was “real rock’n’roll”. That made us feel a lot better about the fact that hundreds
of copies still remain untouched in our homes to this day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After Danny Z left the band, we three remaining members had
to re-calibrate. Without the special electricity he created with Zev, it was
hard to maintain our energy level as a rock trio. So we gradually shifted to an
“unplugged” format (in which we were actually plugged in but just played
softer). I replaced my drum set with a cajon and also played acoustic guitar. What
this lower decibel level lacked in energy it compensated by allowing us a
calmer space to listen, connect and experiment. We played a few more gigs, this
time mainly in folk clubs, but as in the previous phase, mostly we
rehearsed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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A film about a completely unknown band rehearsing at home
might sound like an unlikely proposition but that is exactly the challenge that
filmmaker, friend and music fan, Roni Lipetz decided to take up. After first
creating a terrific music video for our song <b>He Come Down In a Big Machine </b>he
decided<b> </b>that he wanted<b> </b>to document our rehearsals. The old idea
of the “open rehearsal” had resurfaced, except that instead of people
physically coming to our rehearsals, our rehearsals would come to them via
Roni’s film. About a year later, in March 2019, <span class="MsoHyperlink"><b><a href="https://vimeo.com/272202894?utm_source=email&utm_medium=vimeo-cliptranscode-201504&utm_campaign=29220">Midlife
Crisis<span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></a></b></span><b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>The Movie was being applauded at the Epos
Art Film Festival at Tel Aviv Museum. Recognition at last!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Rdqy3vL_cQw/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Rdqy3vL_cQw?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<i>Music video: He Come Down In A Big Machine <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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By now, given the age and condition of its older members,
Midlife Crisis had become a misnomer, a dad band old enough to be a grandad
band. It was time to wrap things up. We decided to collect the recordings we’d
made over our five years as a trio, some at Ambience, others at my home studio,
and release them as a farewell album - <b>Ends and Beginnings</b>. No actual CD
this time but it has been released “commercially” and you should be able to hear
it or download it on all major platforms (Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes etc). <a href="https://soundcloud.com/mid-life-crisis-band-1/albums">Here’s</a> a free
link to the album on SoundCloud. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll also be posting tracks on the band’s <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Mid-Life-Crisis-48358959363/">Facebook page</a> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Ends and Beginnings</b> with its mix of rock, blues,
R&B, folk and reggae is more eclectic than its predecessor and maybe a
little more reflective too. Among the themes
- dreams, fate, change, false messiahs, inspiration, desperation, cultural
appropriation, ends and beginnings. We
hope you like it.</div>
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Midlife Crisis was a band that made zero impact on Israel’s
music scene. We had no fan base and received little attention. It didn’t
matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We created our own brand of
music for (more or less) 17 years and remain friends to this day. I’m eternally
grateful to bandmates Zev Labinger (guitars, vocals), Danny (B) Blumberg (bass,
vocals) and Danny (Z) Zilberman (guitars) for sharing some of the best times of
my life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-87874348585549048032019-11-17T12:37:00.002-08:002019-11-20T00:34:42.408-08:00Labels and Fables<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">While rockets from
Gaza were flying above our heads last week, angry messages were flying from Jerusalem
to Brussels. Not over the targeted killing of Islamic Jihad commander Bahaa Abu
al-Ata but over </span><a href="https://www.timesofisrael.com/in-landmark-ruling-eus-top-court-says-settlement-product-labeling-mandatory/" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt;">the
decision of the European Court of Justice (ECJ)</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"> that the EU’s labelling of Israeli
settlement goods in European supermarkets was legally binding. All EU member
states needed to label certain products from settlements in the West Bank, East
Jerusalem and the Golan Heights, e.g. with a label that reads “Made in The West
Bank - Israeli settlement”</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Speaker of the Knesset,
Yuli Edelstein for example sent a letter to the President of the European
Parliament David Sassoli, expressing his “dismay and disappointment” over the “disgraceful”
decision. Edelstein’s letter contained most of the Netanyahu government’s standard
arguments on this issue. The verdict “applies a double standard to Israel […] since
out of “dozens of such areas around the world, […] only Judea, Samaria and the
Golan Heights are subject to such labelling regulations.” Judea and Samaria should
not be considered occupied by Israel “as they were never part of another
country” and Israel’s control over them was legitimised by the Balfour Declaration and the 1920 San Remo Resolution. The court was prescribing differential treatment for Arabs and Jews based
on ethnicity, was prejudging the “outcome of Israeli-Palestinian negotiations” (that
one made me LOL) and had knowingly adopted the arguments of the BDS movement. Labelling
would “inevitably result in a boycott of goods” from the settlements but also
from Israel proper. The move was bound to harm relations with the EU and would,
“undermine the EU’s ability to play a fair and objective role in the Middle
East peace process.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">PM Netanyahu, not
mincing words, declared that, “Europe the other day decided to act against
Israel and put labels on products that are made here. They don’t join the sanctions
against Iran, they join sanctions against Israel. Unbelievable!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">All this sent me back
in time to November 2015 when the European Commission issued an <a href="https://eeas.europa.eu/sites/eeas/files/20151111_interpretative_notice_indication_of_origin_en.pdf">“Interpretive
notice on indication of goods from the territories occupied by Israel since
June 1967.”</a> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Technical documents are
not my favorite reading matter but, since at the time (full disclosure) I was
employed by the EU Delegation to Israel as press and information manager, I
took the time to read this one carefully. The reaction in Israel then was as apoplectic
as it is now and I was part of a team who had to explain the EU’s positions to a
skeptical if not hostile, Israeli media and public. This was not a boycott, we stressed.
The EU was opposed to boycotts of Israeli products. This was merely a technical
measure, mandated by international law and part of the EU’s global labelling system.
European consumers had the right to be informed as to the provenance of settlement
products and since the EU didn’t recognise the settlements as being part of
Israel, their Made in Israel label was misleading. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any event, the labelling would be limited to
only a few fresh food products, cosmetics, olive oil and wine and its economic
impact would be very limited. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">None of this cut much ice
with the public or the government which (temporarily) cut off diplomatic
contacts with EU officials and continued to denounce the notice as a hostile political
act carrying more than a whiff of anti-Semitism. Perhaps the hardest point to
explain was why the EU applied its labelling in such a monolithic fashion without
regard to the local political context. Didn’t the EU know that the (East) Jerusalem neighbourhood
of Ramot had been annexed to Israel and was therefore not a “settlement” and
would remain under Israeli control in any conceivable peace agreement with the
Palestinians? And did the EU really expect Israel to return the Golan Heights
to Assad?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">One of the main Israeli
arguments, then and now, is that first to be hurt by labelling will be some
26,000 Palestinian workers employed in Israeli settlement enterprises “who
enjoy good working conditions, fair wages and gain professional knowledge [..]”.
The EU in its ignorance, was harming the “real peace” being forged as Jews and Palestinians
worked alongside one other (camera pans to happy Palestinian workers in settlement
factories). The EU’s response that
it would rather see those Palestinians employed in their own state, was
shrugged off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">What happened next was…
not much. The EU member states, even those that had pushed for the labelling
notice, showed far less enthusiasm for actually implementing it and the
European Commission which has the duty to remind the member states of their
obligations, appeared to be not overly anxious to do so. To illustrate, <a href="https://www.timesofisrael.com/europe-failing-to-implement-eu-settlement-labeling-directive-study-shows/">a
recent study</a> showed that only 10% of Israeli wines from the West Bank and
the Golan were labelled across the EU as instructed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The whole affair might
have continued to stagnate but after the French economy ministry adopted the notice
in 2016, the Psagot winery, (situated in a settlement outside Ramallah),
challenged the labelling notice as unconstitutional in France. The French court
agreed but since France was subject to EU law, decided to pass the matter on to
the ECJ. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">By all accounts, Israel’s
foreign ministry, aware of the danger of a final ECJ decision on labelling would
have been happy if Psagot had dropped its appeal, but was unable to halt the
procedure that ended with precisely the </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">opposite </b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">result than that sought
by Psagot and by the government. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Nevertheless, Psagot’s
CEO, Yaakov Berg was <a href="https://www.jewishpress.com/news/global/europe/eu/psagot-winery-commits-to-fighting-eu-courts-anti-semitic-ruling-on-labeling/2019/11/13/">unrepentant</a>.
The winery he said, was proud of its contribution to combating this decision and
intends to continue the struggle. The entire episode reminded him of “when my
grandmother was told [by the Nazis] that her shop under the law would be
labelled as having ‘Jewish’ ownership.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Will the EU’s member states
now clearly enforce the labelling guidelines or will Israel's counter-lobbying cause them to think twice? And if labelling becomes widespread, what will be the outcome? According
to President of the Israel Manufacturing Association, Shraga Brosh, there would
be potential damaging consequences not only for the settlement enterprises
concerned but for all Israeli products sold in Europe since importers were
liable to reconsider buying Israeli products for fear of becoming entangled in
the labelling issue. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Perhaps some. My guess
is most will continue to buy Made in Israel products if the quality and the
price is right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_CzYaEBtHpK3dYMEBbcSwSsmJzXrTErbXYWjAFMbzQsrZBbchpqzj-Q8F1sOb1FXWc3xioncl96aDJi0Y6Xjn9of4ZjsqRBi_swsySqmvFXtvVAxO7h6isuU600nqymHqSfyn9ojzzoB/s1600/bottles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="130" data-original-width="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_CzYaEBtHpK3dYMEBbcSwSsmJzXrTErbXYWjAFMbzQsrZBbchpqzj-Q8F1sOb1FXWc3xioncl96aDJi0Y6Xjn9of4ZjsqRBi_swsySqmvFXtvVAxO7h6isuU600nqymHqSfyn9ojzzoB/s1600/bottles.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">But what of the
political consequences of the ruling? </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">European proponents of labelling argue that it
contributes, “to the preservation of the two state solution”. On the Israeli
left too, the argument runs that Israelis need a wake-up call, to feel some economic
pain to remind them that the occupation is not cost-free, that despite the best
efforts of the government, the Green Line cannot be entirely smudged. How far
will the ruling go towards meeting those goals?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">Today, (according to a
recent Haaretz poll) only 43% of Israelis believe that a two state solution or a
confederation is the preferred solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict while
about the same percentage are in favour of one form or another of annexation. In
mainstream Israel 2019, settlements authorised by the government are regarded as
entirely legal and therefore outside attempts to differentiate them from Israel
proper are considered reprehensible. Moreover, the ruling by the “anti-Semitic”
EU body will provide Israel’s national camp” with plenty of grist for its
propaganda mill. So while Israel’s tiny left may enjoy a brief ray of sunshine,
the net result, if any, will probably be a further hardening of Israeli attitudes
towards the EU without any appreciable contribution to the “two state solution”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">And
what if you are convinced, as I am, that the fact that over 400,000 Jewish
Israelis now live over the Green Line, has already made a two state solution an
impossibility? </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">Should I be pleased that
the Green Line may be reinstated in the public’s awareness? I have to admit that
my heart is not full of joy. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">If a two
state solution based on the Green Line is a dead duck, then Israelis and
Palestinians are destined, or doomed, to live in a one state reality. Ultimately
this means that the Green Line’s symbolic role as the prospective </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;">border between Israel and a future Palestinian
state is bound to fade into irrelevance, with or without European rules about the
wording on packaged organic tomatoes.</span></span></div>
<div style="background: white;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One
day, Israel will have to drop the pretence that the occupation is temporary and
the EU will have to drop the pretence that there is a “Middle East Peace
Process” that will lead to a Palestinian state. When that happens, all sides will have to re-calibrate. </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Meanwhile,
the EU is perhaps the last staunch defender of the two state solution and if
you still believe that such a solution is possible, you should appreciate that.
Regretfully, from the vantage point of the Tel Aviv Rooftop, it seems to be fighting
yesterday’s battle, a battle that Israel, for better or worse, has already “won”.</span></div>
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Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-78727314464702774512019-09-30T03:10:00.001-07:002019-09-30T06:25:05.254-07:00 Five Sinai Scenes <br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">1. Crossing
the border <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The transition
into the Third World is immediate. Time slows down. The Egyptian customs
officials greet the trickle of incoming visitors from Israel with a lazy indifference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the entrance to the marbled Taba terminal there
is a sort of podium where visitors are supposed to fill in entry forms. The
forms have been commandeered by three men who, in return for <i>baksheesh,</i>
fill them in for you. At the bank, my dollars are turned into an unwieldy wad
of Egyptian pounds. The ATM machine doesn’t work.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In a Bedouin
taxi we speed unnervingly along the twists and turns of Israeli-laid southbound
coastal road. No-one’s wearing seat belts; Khaled, the driver, is singing along
to a hit song. To the left, the beaches and sparkling waters of the Red
Sea/Gulf of Aqaba and the rosy outline of the Jordanian side of the gulf; to
the right, imposing red granite mountains, changing hue in the late afternoon
sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The once unspoiled
desert coast is now scarred with the concrete carcasses of abandoned tourist
resorts, a graveyard for the megalomanic developments made in the Mubarak era
that failed or were halted in mid-construction. Between these we meet familiar
sites like old friends: the Salah a-Din Citadel, the “fjord” and the long stretches
of beach where the simple Bedouin <i>husha</i> tourist camps are named ‘Freedom’,
‘Utopia’, and ‘Eden’. Khaled swerves off the main road and we bump down a long
dirt track and pull up in what we hope will be ‘Paradise’. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And once
settled in over sage tea and (for those interested) speedily scored some grass
from virtually any member of the friendly young staff, and having taken a first
glorious dip in the refreshing, clear, buoyant water, Sinai’s magic begins to permeate
and the outside world fades into insignificance. The border has been crossed.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. Heba <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Charming, vivacious,
in dressed-to-kill beachwear, Heba is chatting in Egyptian- Arabic accented
English with two musclebound Israeli guys who answer her in American-accented
English. She’s telling a convoluted story about an embarrassing encounter and they
are nodding sympathetically. Later we strike up a conversation with her
ourselves and discover that Heba, who has “lots of friends in Tel Aviv”, is a
yoga instructor who has studied in India and runs a studio in Cairo where yoga
is increasingly popular. She discovered yoga only after her children graduated
from high school and loves to visit Sinai, despite the gruelling 8 hour bus
journey. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These
conversations with the outgoing and obviously liberal Heba were less interesting
for their content than for the fact they took place at all. In all the years
(over 30!) that we’ve been visiting Sinai, this has been the longest
conversation I have ever held with an Egyptian tourist to Sinai. Over the last
few years we’ve seen an increasing number of young, cool Cairenes at the
Bedouin-run beach camps we favour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
two sides- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Israelis being in the
clear majority - normally keep a respectful distance but now and then a
remarkable person like Heba is able to break the ice. Since Egyptians are
strongly dissuaded from visiting Israel and most Israelis would feel unsafe in
Cairo, the south Sinai coast is perhaps the only place in the region where they
can meet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Heba sets
her smartphone to video on the low wooden table and angles it into a frame
created by the low wall of the <i>zula </i>and palm fronds of its roof, with
the sparkling Red Sea as background. Then, her dark blue wrap fluttering
dramatically in the wind, she seems to elevate horizontally with only one hand resting
on the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3. Starlight
and music</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We lie on
our backs, stargazing, wavelets lapping at the sand, a balmy caressing breeze. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The firmament of stars numbs us into humility in the face of an infinite universe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Behind us in
the <i>zula</i>, a group of young Bedouin men accompanied by a <i>darbuka</i> and an <i>oud,</i>
start singing a traditional song. The long, snaking, hypnotic piece is the
perfect soundtrack. </span>Click <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNPEJ-jrEoA">here</a> for a taste of traditional South Sinai Bedouin music. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Later, a
hyperactive Israeli man we’ll call Tomer, plugs in a Bluetooth speaker and the
tranquillity is shattered by the thumping repetitive beat of an Egyptian hit with
lyrics that sound like “mashi mash , mashi mash.” Soon he’s dancing with the
young Bedouin in robes. The young Israelis lining the <i>zula</i>, which is now a
disco, join in, complete with whoops of delight, hand claps and laughter. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you’ve
been wondering what pop music from the Arab world sounds like nowadays <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14rEdDZTSKU&list=PLMmVJHHEJ428mve3WlURcZqBrGBpZvdIj">here’s </a>a
link.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tomer,
accompanied by his two young boys, is smitten with the Bedouin (“There’s so
much we can learn from them, brother”) and talks up the idea of moving his
whole family from the Israeli rat race to the tranquillity of Sinai. He also
seems to be on the make, conspicuously ingratiating himself with the locals and
acting towards the visitors as if he owns the place. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We hear more
of “Mashi mash” and its sister “Heya hey” over the coming days and decide that we’ll
look for a quieter place next time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBB1zha1-Zr2gLeXICCkEYNjB-ys9o5NG_GEdSlT9J-DyRXm82zA91i9WNwMSoGskgWvWVIxkjrn9jnLKlqLZVpLchRsWBBJt2QUXrOCYvEtlS1T2bKQGYg5w2Pv8ky_R1uYIEL2yinuC2/s1600/P1110392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBB1zha1-Zr2gLeXICCkEYNjB-ys9o5NG_GEdSlT9J-DyRXm82zA91i9WNwMSoGskgWvWVIxkjrn9jnLKlqLZVpLchRsWBBJt2QUXrOCYvEtlS1T2bKQGYg5w2Pv8ky_R1uYIEL2yinuC2/s400/P1110392.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> <b>Playing the simsimiyya</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4. Women and children last<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No dancing
for Bedouin women though. Nor are they to be found among the kitchen or
cleaning staff. It’s only along the beach that we meet them, swaddled in dark layers,
carrying one bag on their heads and another in their hands. They find a place
in the shade and spread their wares; colourful ornate plastic necklaces and
bracelets, fabrics and clothes, a long embroidered dress, a <i>kufiyah</i>, a
<i>sha’awal</i>, a <i>gellabiya</i>. Once they have made contact, they are charming but determined
salesladies. It’s pleasant to sit on colourful rugs in the shade of the <i>zula</i>,
sift through their merchandise, and bargain playfully with them in basic Hebrew
as they laugh behind their veils. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
waiter from our camp brings them some food. Later we see them kneeling in
prayer and then taking a nap.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gaggles of
boys and girls aged from about 7 to 12, are also part of the operation and will
not hesitate to use emotional blackmail to make a sale: “You bought from
Mohammed and Jud, but not from me!” they complain in Hebrew. We agree to make more
unnecessary purchases on condition that they use the money for school books.
They nod solemnly that they will. We give them <i>Bamba</i> and pens for the <i>madrasa.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We interact
with these friendly Hebrew-speaking Egyptian Bedouin on a superficial level
without understanding their lives, their codes, their tribal laws, how they've been impacted by the 21st century and by government discrimination. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If Bedouin women are allowed to sell jewellery to tourists
on the beach, why are they not allowed to work alongside men in restaurants or
shops? How would a man like Sayid, the worldly, dashing manager of our camp who
alternates between flowing robes and cutting edge western fashion and has sped
off to Cairo in his new BMW, relate to his wife, to his daughters?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kbUDbY6-NnRyxWVnHOf7jW4CgrdDP6GEqXb3u-QoGsX30neGJqyG_3pvdN8WiVp9-CkScY9OyUhrMWMfhyphenhyphenLjVlBfo52OIVgpkuA16e0SysQduQMNG1Bx9H3enY9vUfpKnpONxt4oHjMY/s1600/P1110400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kbUDbY6-NnRyxWVnHOf7jW4CgrdDP6GEqXb3u-QoGsX30neGJqyG_3pvdN8WiVp9-CkScY9OyUhrMWMfhyphenhyphenLjVlBfo52OIVgpkuA16e0SysQduQMNG1Bx9H3enY9vUfpKnpONxt4oHjMY/s400/P1110400.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5. A trip to
Nuweiba<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The taxi is
two hours late. The driver looks friendly but speaks no Hebrew. I’m sitting next to him and we are all
speeding recklessly towards Nuweiba City when we encounter a truck ahead of us. The driver
sits on its tail. We approach a blind curve. The driver looks at me with a
mischievous gleam in his eye signifying, “Whadya say? Shall I overtake the
truck and risk it?” “No, no!” I gesticulate wildly, stay in your own lane!” The
driver regards me piteously, revs up the engine and overtakes the truck. I try
not to look. We swerve round the curve with no margin for correction and are
not killed in a horrific and totally avoidable accident. The driver displays a smug
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>victory smile. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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town shut down. In the dusty old bazaar area there are more souvenir shops than
tourists. Inexplicably, Nuweiba’s northern and southern parts are divided by
about 5 kilometres of emptiness which we drive across to reach the grubby port
area for a meal at Doctor Shish Kebab where we are the only patrons. Soon it
will be Rosh Hashana and thousands of Israelis will start streaming into Sinai
but it seems unlikely that Nuweiba, with so little to offer, will be reaping
the benefits of their cash.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I2m9wB39c_4m1hvlbBXHVmiOeaqsiQtO08hfEOKQgU2TVbxm2U53M4rtJYN4Y_E9A61IWwxNW5glNZgEJk4O8mAO5cF3A3QFOom2I5YEeRjpaf4yjy_CQLY-Pfr-I9ld3nJ75S7J1ax6/s1600/nuweiba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5I2m9wB39c_4m1hvlbBXHVmiOeaqsiQtO08hfEOKQgU2TVbxm2U53M4rtJYN4Y_E9A61IWwxNW5glNZgEJk4O8mAO5cF3A3QFOom2I5YEeRjpaf4yjy_CQLY-Pfr-I9ld3nJ75S7J1ax6/s400/nuweiba.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="line-height: 17.12px;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Nuweiba. Photo: Yotam Haviv</span> </span></span></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a
depressing urban experience it feels wonderful to return to nature. A wallow in the sea, a walk
along the beach in the twilight, crabs scurrying from their holes into the
water, mountains growing darker by the minute, the windsurfer skipping across the waves
for the last time today. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></o:p></span><i style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLNJ7nNCzld7lQEi4gi1iZ2lW-j2j3gNJ_ZrpYbXfrz-pTBqFfkX-RJ4GI_-4WoAa9G9vBmHZUG6-5VhoSTabwe4V6obIuixuyRSkn6GupVnpYU24TF5riApgNUQzL5ko-fRIE1KTrfo6/s1600/P1110148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLNJ7nNCzld7lQEi4gi1iZ2lW-j2j3gNJ_ZrpYbXfrz-pTBqFfkX-RJ4GI_-4WoAa9G9vBmHZUG6-5VhoSTabwe4V6obIuixuyRSkn6GupVnpYU24TF5riApgNUQzL5ko-fRIE1KTrfo6/s400/P1110148.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 13.91px;">Key for the uninitiated: <i>baksheesh - a tip;</i> <i>husha</i> – a simple hut made of palm fronds; <i>zula - </i>a cosy shaded area lined with carpets, cushions and low tables; <i>oud - </i>a lute-like stringed instrument; <i>darbuka </i>- a hand drum; </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>kufiyah - </i>traditional headdress; <i>sha'awal</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">- baggy pants; g</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>ellabiya - </i>traditional long sleeved garment worn over clothes by both men and women; <i>Bamba - </i>popular Israeli children's peanut snack; <i>madrasa </i>- school.</span></span></span></div>
<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-27638866956261144192019-08-21T06:48:00.000-07:002019-08-21T10:23:50.361-07:00Ten Days in Brexitland<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">London: Brexit for ever and ever? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Landing at Luton
airport felt like falling from the skies slap-bang into the middle of a post-no-deal-Brexit
worst case scenario.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the
runway a metallic voice on the PA told us that Luton airport was in the midst of an emergency and that disruptions were to be expected. Power lines had been cut all
over the country and unusually heavy rain had penetrated the airport’s roof, flooding
the floor below. Delays were to be expected. We were 9<sup>th</sup> in the line of waiting planes . <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After finally
disembarking, we shuffled, in an endless crush, for our passports to be stamped
by overwhelmed immigration officials. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All in all it was a dramatic entry to the UK:
disintegrating infrastructure, bureaucratic muddles and climate change shocks
all rolled into one. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That initial
impression was quickly dispelled as we wandered around the streets of London. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the prospect of crashing out of the EU
without a deal looking ever more likely, Brits may be deeply divided, confused
and even desperate as the October 31 deadline for Brexit looms; but there’s
little sign of any of this in London’s bustling streets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINuDXPSjXhrZUKtspuYUBYvWC5Q1bUR_YFnduFrC32zVjwyLMVAisyw_PXoncuiixRMeWJlynMHX0CYZrBWirppfsRKeGxot1sNe2VVs-d7VrWihL_jM7rOZmYWlbRC0KpZZGrvuiWC5e/s1600/P1140098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINuDXPSjXhrZUKtspuYUBYvWC5Q1bUR_YFnduFrC32zVjwyLMVAisyw_PXoncuiixRMeWJlynMHX0CYZrBWirppfsRKeGxot1sNe2VVs-d7VrWihL_jM7rOZmYWlbRC0KpZZGrvuiWC5e/s320/P1140098.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portobello Road antique market</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had heard that, fearing food shortages, citizens were stockpiling food but as we lost
ourselves along the aisles of a major Waitrose supermarket, our provincial eyes
dazzled by the tasteful superabundance, the idea of stockpiling seemed
laughable. Nevertheless, according to </span><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/aug/12/britons-have-spent-4bn-stockpiling-goods-in-case-of-no-deal-brexit" style="font-family: inherit;">one
report</a></div>
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<i><span style="color: #121212;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Britons have spent £4bn stockpiling goods in
preparation for a possible no-deal <a data-component="auto-linked-tag" data-link-name="auto-linked-tag" href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/eu-referendum" style="border-bottom: 0.0625rem solid rgb(220, 220, 220); cursor: pointer; touch-action: manipulation; transition: border-color 0.15s ease-out 0s;"><span style="color: #ab0613;">Brexit</span></a> . One in five people are already
hoarding food, drinks and <a data-link-name="in body link" href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/jan/18/revealed-uk-patients-stockpile-drugs-in-fear-of-no-deal-brexit" style="border-bottom: 0.0625rem solid rgb(220, 220, 220); cursor: pointer; touch-action: manipulation; transition: border-color 0.15s ease-out 0s;"><span style="color: #ab0613;">medicine</span></a>, spending an extra £380 each,
according to a survey by the finance provider Premium Credit. The survey found
that about 800,000 people have spent more than £1,000 building up stockpiles
before the 31 October Brexit deadline.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Could this relative
trickle turn into a tsunami of stockpiling? It could, according to Amatey Doku,
former vice-president of higher education, National Union of Students. Asked “the
big Brexit question – where will we be by the end of the year?“ by the Observer, she said:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“No deal will be felt much sooner than we expect. If it is
averted, it is likely that it won’t be until the last minute. By that point
consumers will go into a panic and start stockpiling food…I think the UK will
see the biggest demonstrations in its history […]” <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz9JAGaTYZTMf1tAytyq5Hd0R439HghOgAxC9uEfbXJC8uFPaC8kpPbD1MuH4aNOyEdNe0cCwnTgTrqnKUGTGLxRmHe2tp1-rAMtb5jUZjudwIs86B12xJXxJy-i9ialt8m-ABGhtheQQ3/s1600/IMG_20190812_192242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz9JAGaTYZTMf1tAytyq5Hd0R439HghOgAxC9uEfbXJC8uFPaC8kpPbD1MuH4aNOyEdNe0cCwnTgTrqnKUGTGLxRmHe2tp1-rAMtb5jUZjudwIs86B12xJXxJy-i9ialt8m-ABGhtheQQ3/s320/IMG_20190812_192242.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where will the UK be this time next year?</td></tr>
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<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, ahead of the reopening of parliament in early September and with
PM Boris Johnson’s majority hanging by a thread, reports emerged </span></span>from Westminster, <span style="font-family: inherit;">of a so-called
“rebel alliance” to force him to at least delay leading the UK off a cliff.
A Tory minister trying to coordinate these efforts noted that this “unholy
coalition” consisted of members from, </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">“moderate Labour, Labour frontbench,
Lib Dems, Scottish Nationalists, minor parties, independents and moderate
Tories. It’s difficult.”</i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> And there I was thinking that Israeli politics was
fragmented. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of political
scenarios the rebels are considering involves a “breach of convention” in
which backbenchers would “seize the parliamentary timetable” and pass their own
laws, independently of the government (!!). Whether or not this comes to pass, the
very mention of such an unprecedented step is an indication of the depth of this
great rift in British politics.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On this trip, prices in London were suddenly cheap. With sterling having fallen against
the shekel, food, theatre tickets, clothes were all relatively inexpensive. We
were able to enjoy some excellent theatre and music in London for significantly
less while the Brits travelling abroad are already paying significantly more for
their euros or dollars. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVoZxiXAKjNda1fB72Ubg4moeMkSQW2GJfMV-K93r3iO1-gtgxqB2RBkpNfFiy1wcOdJucPE1I6etY9HJ20pwecVfW4V2zYQ5yO34b3gsYT7fCDC2-pbWQMUYYStaTut4-GtwIHDqdIMVW/s1600/IMG_20190812_210624_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVoZxiXAKjNda1fB72Ubg4moeMkSQW2GJfMV-K93r3iO1-gtgxqB2RBkpNfFiy1wcOdJucPE1I6etY9HJ20pwecVfW4V2zYQ5yO34b3gsYT7fCDC2-pbWQMUYYStaTut4-GtwIHDqdIMVW/s320/IMG_20190812_210624_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging by a thread. The Bridge Theatre's amazing production of A Midsummer Night's Dream</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">No-one knows how all this is going to end. Worse still, it may never end at all. As Jonathan
Freedland <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/aug/09/no-deal-brexit-negotiations-brussels">explained
in the Guardian</a> in a piece subtitled, ‘this nightmare will go on forever: “</span><span style="background: rgb(254 , 249 , 245); color: #121212; line-height: 107%;">Unless we call the whole thing off, this is
our future: leave v remain, remain v leave, Brexit for ever and ever.</span>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ireland: Green fields, dread and hurling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Can there be
a friendlier people than the Irish? In Israel, people pass each other in the
street with, at best, an air of indifference. In Ireland, people will greet you
from the other side of the street with a friendly wave. Everyone seemed more than
happy to chat, to help, to share a joke. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It rained
every day. But between the showers came sudden bursts of sunshine. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We drove (on the left) along shady single lane
country roads of County Galway, entranced as the clouds scudded over fields and
forests succored by abundant rainfall into endless shades of green. The rolling
hills were studded with contented sheep and cows grazing in the open pasture
and all seemed well with the world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZPl8mtVDGBcQsu3qzPzU1LSmHkK2DAE3m-4FhWgn9VhPNW32W3liNPmzIjZLAlSy9bBUlseiN3HigPU3RuOZ3Ibvl8BGk5oD9JYLJgs9lKbLM_ZoqnuNIQMRb38jaXaQDoIEncieHhM4O/s1600/IMG_20190814_145809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZPl8mtVDGBcQsu3qzPzU1LSmHkK2DAE3m-4FhWgn9VhPNW32W3liNPmzIjZLAlSy9bBUlseiN3HigPU3RuOZ3Ibvl8BGk5oD9JYLJgs9lKbLM_ZoqnuNIQMRb38jaXaQDoIEncieHhM4O/s320/IMG_20190814_145809.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Along the
way were neat villages with many well-kept modern houses, some of them quite
grand with expensive cars parked in the drive. Even in this rural area it was
clear that Ireland (termed the “Celtic Tiger” in the late 1990s –late 2000s boom
years) has come a long way since the 1960s, when, we were told, many homes
lacked electricity or running water. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Irish economy is still relatively strong (4% growth this year, a predicted 2.7%
for next) but given its close trading ties with Northern Ireland and the UK, <a href="https://www.thejournal.ie/irish-economy-2-4771999-Aug2019/">economists
are warning</a> that a no deal Brexit could radically change the picture.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, on
the tranquil banks of Loch Derg, more important matters were at hand. The
neighbors of our gracious hostess, tethering their fishing boat to the jetty, offered
us two freshly caught pike for supper. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How
could we refuse?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvO-JFP8HPHUFbXvc8X06Q2DnspwZgS5rlXAEDEagfvHNLlDoRQDMyBaeofBHWv_Y4gYR6GEsPVs7Vu3yTemUfs5hjiCGKBe3GCKDN0FALVr1WuQYhuhk1ZVjqPOXxKni-8E_tXJnVvbZ/s1600/P1140129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvO-JFP8HPHUFbXvc8X06Q2DnspwZgS5rlXAEDEagfvHNLlDoRQDMyBaeofBHWv_Y4gYR6GEsPVs7Vu3yTemUfs5hjiCGKBe3GCKDN0FALVr1WuQYhuhk1ZVjqPOXxKni-8E_tXJnVvbZ/s320/P1140129.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loch Derg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The City of Galway
was lively and charming. The Atlantic coast was dramatic and squally and if you
ever find yourself in the lovely village of Terryglass in County Tipperary,
Paddy’s is a must. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0-EFusVgzfHl_Tc5iS5dpdEw1ErjebK3bOirfsncK6CaD-cEvjKSbjrUxmmk2nIt6AlZ6czyP38iAAdj8q2Ih1KUAxPSS9DVggrXhPvgKZgO5WGoK7XS2awsLNyFBpOvfdL6ii2nuCNw/s1600/IMG_20190815_150618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0-EFusVgzfHl_Tc5iS5dpdEw1ErjebK3bOirfsncK6CaD-cEvjKSbjrUxmmk2nIt6AlZ6czyP38iAAdj8q2Ih1KUAxPSS9DVggrXhPvgKZgO5WGoK7XS2awsLNyFBpOvfdL6ii2nuCNw/s320/IMG_20190815_150618.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was only while
listening to the radio on the road back to Dublin that the Brexit drama raised
its ugly head again. The (Irish) Sunday Times had obtained a full copy of the
UK’s classified “Yellowhammer” report on the expected outcome of a no-deal Brexit.
Among other disastrous predictions this included [an expected] <i>“return
to a hard border in Ireland as current plans to avoid widespread checks will
prove “unsustainable”: this may spark protests, road blockages and “direct
action”.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Direct action" sounded ominous. A return to
a hard border between the Republic of Ireland (Eire) and Northern Ireland is dreaded
on both sides. A <a href="https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/brexit/brexit-poll-saying-majority-backs-irish-sea-border-rejected-by-dup-38414210.html">poll </a>found that most people in Northern Ireland would prefer a regulatory border between Northern Ireland and Britain rather than a border between the two parts of Ireland. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks to the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Good_Friday_Agreement" style="font-family: inherit;">1998 Good Friday agreement</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
the population of the two Irelands, particularly the nationalist Catholics, have
been traveling and trading freely across the border. A hard border would not only seriously complicate trade, it could also lead to violence. Our Dublin taxi driver told us that some nationalists
had already planted a “warning bomb” some weeks earlier. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ireland has a long and bloody history but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1cfI5on5n84">this short film</a> might
help to explain why the question of what happens at the border is so crucial. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Border flare-ups are not the only concern, the economic implications are no less daunting. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">According to
the </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Irish Independent</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, ministers fear that the country will be plunged
into a </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">‘major national emergency’</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> in a no-deal Brexit. One editorial
referred to Ireland as a <i>“tethered sacrificial lamb on the battlefield, as our
nearest ‘neighbor’ goes to war with the EU,”</i> and bemoaned the country’s lack of
preparation for the worst. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Dublin on Sunday evening was
buzzing but, unlike London, not cheap. We’d learned that we’d be arriving just
in time for the “Irish Superbowl”, the </span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">2019<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> All-Ireland Senior </span>Hurling
Championship Final<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">, a uniquely Irish
event. The two sides, Tipperary and Kilkenny, were considered finely matched. In
‘</span><span style="line-height: 107%;">The Bleeding Horse’
(don’t ask) we joined the friendly locals in watching what </span><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">one of the most exciting sporting events we had ever
witnessed. Playing before 85,000 spectators at Dublin’s Croke Park stadium, the
two sides swerved, crashed, passed and dribbled non-stop, while balancing the sliotar
(ball) on their hurls (bats) before aiming for a goal. </span></span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM6VxwGZlqPuOYw4gA3EdijJGm6G36leodsgm3AbyK6JeNWjC2UphyCWDbW0hpAeV7BDSLzGPHy8HWAHv-tb8eEeVrl81lqnniPcjn9jpJ9eC1xL4nD_regviPW3s_umDCjXj5M_4VWzk/s1600/0_inpho_01580848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM6VxwGZlqPuOYw4gA3EdijJGm6G36leodsgm3AbyK6JeNWjC2UphyCWDbW0hpAeV7BDSLzGPHy8HWAHv-tb8eEeVrl81lqnniPcjn9jpJ9eC1xL4nD_regviPW3s_umDCjXj5M_4VWzk/s320/0_inpho_01580848.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;">What a game, and it’s an
amateur sport too. (for hurling <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurling">see
here</a>).<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A triumphant Tipperary defeated Kilkenny by
28-20. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And
at least for those riveting 70 minutes, no-one in Ireland was worrying about
Brexit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-66320817773333794832019-07-29T07:31:00.000-07:002019-07-31T01:39:12.068-07:00 The “Most Israeli” Song?<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLZIiVkJ5E8bMi7fRLHE0x7OXFK8i2dt924QTpEOV3sM4FLgpwgtTTtCMsiaSPalZgRDZrJVNTbAuU19xIpYGz3HTAFDtkzvuZ7wxyWyMGv9wBiBxfi0BhDaToHLH1w1zTuEFbk0CbO7Ej/s1600/Kobi-Peretz-pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="380" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLZIiVkJ5E8bMi7fRLHE0x7OXFK8i2dt924QTpEOV3sM4FLgpwgtTTtCMsiaSPalZgRDZrJVNTbAuU19xIpYGz3HTAFDtkzvuZ7wxyWyMGv9wBiBxfi0BhDaToHLH1w1zTuEFbk0CbO7Ej/s320/Kobi-Peretz-pic.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kobi Peretz</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Messing around on the rooftop
the other day while listening to a cultural roundup on the main current affairs
radio station, Reshet Bet, I heard a new song by the Mediterranean music <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>singer Kobi Peretz called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hV_oeKf3dLU">“Barukh Hashem”(Thank God)</a>. The presenter - Vered Yiftachi-Green - predicted that it was destined
to become a “national anthem” and, after the final strains had died away, enthused:
“This is the most Israeli song!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The arrangement had all the elements
of big hits in Israel nowadays: low key, minimalist verses accompanied only by Spanish
guitar and oud, leading to an earworm chorus over a thumping Reggaeton beat. Yup,
I nodded to myself, it’s a hit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hadn’t really paid
attention to the lyrics, apart from noting that <i>barukh hashem</i> (thank
God) featured regularly and that there was a general self-satisfied <i>hakol
beseder</i> (everything’s fine) message. But since this was being touted as the
quintessential Israel song of the moment, I decided to take a closer look. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here’s are the lyrics in a rough
English translation: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“The wife’s healthy and everything’s cool at
work, there’s food on the table and you’re breathing, so say Thank God.</span></span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></i><i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you fall out of bed, try to fall on the
right side and believe that everything’s all right and that you’ve been given
everything and even if you fell on your face, it left no marks .</span></span></i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You no longer have a reason to run away, sing
with me with all your might, take the time to forgive yourself man, Thank God, everything
is all right. </span></span></i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For as long as we’re here, if there’s no wine
we’ll toast with water, we’ll say Amen, with children on our knees, I haven’t
slept for two months, Thank God </span></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So what if you got confused, it happens to all
of us in life, so believe, it’s written in the Book.</span></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">… You have a million reasons to be happy </span></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></i><i><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You are everything my brother, you are the
force, what a world, you are allowed to yell out man, Thank God, everything’s
all right. “</span></span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">So….the person addressed in
the song is a man who has made some sort of mistake, apparently a serious one,
since he’s taken a fall and needs time to “forgive” himself. The stress is here
is definitely on self-forgiveness and not, for example, on repentance (“so what
if you got confused, it happens to all of us”). And, after all, he has a lot to
be thankful for, so Thank God.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the clip, Kobi in
trademark bleached hair,wears a virgin-white T-shirt and just to make sure that
everyone gets the message, the lyrics appear in sync with the music. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Something about the lyrics
needled me. I started to harbor suspicions about Kobi Peretz’s friend (“my brother”).
What had he done that now needed to be forgiven and why was Kobi so keen - with
the help of God, a healthy wife and a baby - to absolve him? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kobi Peretz’s Hebrew Wikipedia
entry provided the answer. In March 2015 (after rejecting a plea bargain which
would have avoided a prison sentence) he was convicted for tax evasion of 5 million
shekels (and more) and sentenced to two years in prison. This was later reduced
to 18 months and he was released in July 2018.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of course, now I dimly
remembered the headlines and the heavy hints in the lyrics fell into place. Kobi’s
“brother” is none other than Kobi himself and his plea for forgiveness is part
of his campaign for public rehabilitation. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Kobi Peretz was once one of Israel’s leading Mediterranean
music stars with a string of platinum and gold records and sold out shows. But in
2010, his legal troubles surfaced and were compounded by a series of dodgy decisions.
His career took a dive and then came the prison sentence.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But he’s still a big star and his slick rehabilitation machine is working overtime.
The first song he released after himself being released - “Toda Lakh Mami” (Thank
you Mami) - has been watched over 6 million times on you tube. Will “Barukh
Hashem” be the key to his return to the very top? I wouldn’t be surprised.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many Israelis have always considered corruption to be normative but w</span></span><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ith the September 17 general election on the horizon,</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> the country's various tribes are</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> in an especially forgiving mood in which shortcomings are overlooked and exoneration granted to dubious politicians </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">whose parties they support.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Public response to PM Netanyahu’s
multiple corruption charges is a good case in point. While their exposure and
his response (attacks against the media, the legal system and the police)
has severely alienated his center-left-secular political rivals, his supporters
on the traditional-religious-right show few signs, if any, of wanting to ditch
him. In fact, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">as in the previous elections, the only real topic is </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">how to react to Netanyahu's behavior: kick him out,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> or look the other way and forgive him.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">And in the liberal-left camp,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> Meretz was in a forgiving mood when it held its collective
nose and joined forces with former PM Ehud Barak presently under a cloud of
suspicion concerning his connections with pedophile businessman Jeffrey Epstein.
“The minute he told me he had cut off all contacts with this person, the road
to cooperation was opened,” newly appointed Meretz leader Nitzan Horowitz told
Israel Radio. ”[…] I prefer to look at the advantages and benefits that this
connection brings us.”</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As for me, at first I took offence at Vered Yiftachi-Green for characterizing the catchy but deeply cynical ‘Barukh Hashem’
as “the most Israeli” song”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But sadly, having given the matter some thought, I guess I have to agree.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-78519947456813627952019-07-09T02:30:00.000-07:002019-07-10T00:30:51.233-07:00What happened to Richard Zimler? <br />
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A few weeks ago a friend lent me a copy of the 'The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon' by the Portugal-based Jewish-American author Richard Zimler. Historical murder mysteries are not my literary cup of tea but it was hard not to be affected by the backdrop: the harrowing descriptions of the Lisbon massacre of 'New Christians' in 1506 and the vivid portraits of these forced Jewish converts to Christianity who continued to practice their Judaism in secret under mortal risk. On its final page, the kabbalist hero Berakiah Zarco, having finally escaped to Istanbul, warns his Jewish brethren in prophetic mode: "Cast out Christian Europe from your heart and never look back!" The book was a bestseller in 1998 and won numerous awards.<br />
<br />
Strangely enough I came across Zimler's name again only a few days ago in a news item. Zimler claims that, while promoting his new book "The Gospel According to Lazarus", his publicist, 'John', told him that he had been turned down by two,"cultural organizations that had previously shown enthusiasm for holding an event with me." "They asked me if you were Jewish," 'John' told Zimler, "and the moment I said you were, they lost all interest. They even stopped replying to my emails and returning my phone messages." In later conversations with the event organizers, 'John' was convinced that they were not personally antisemitic, "but they feared a backlash - protests by their members and others - if they extended an invitation to a Jewish writer."<br />
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In an <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/jun/29/ive-never-met-antisemitism-in-britain-until-now">article</a> in the Guardian, Zimler wrote, unsurprisingly, that he was: "deeply shocked and upset... It made Britain seem like a place I didn't know and maybe never knew...The situation seemed particularly ironic because I have long endeavoured in my novels to give voice to people who have been systematically silenced by prejudice and bigotry."<br />
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Several questions regarding this story remain open. To protect those concerned, Zimler refuses to divulge either the identities of the cultural organizations who allegedly rejected him or the real name of his publicist friend 'John'. And if Zimler is right and the present political climate in the UK (at least in literary circles) has indeed created a "chilling effect" on event organizers when it comes to inviting Jewish authors, then from where was the "backlash" going to come? Militant Labourite anti-Zionists? BDS activists? Palestinians? Not clear. And how come it hasn't yet had an effect on the Jewish authors who (my London contacts assure me) are still still regularly appearing before audiences across the country.<br />
<br />
At the same time, it seems far-fetched that Zimler would fabricate the story. He was at pains to point out that he has no connection to Israel whatsoever. He doesn't seem the type to launch a witch hunt against anti-semites and the Observer gave his new book a glowing review; so it's hard to point to an ulterior motive. And perhaps we should also take him at his word when he says that he "never knew" Britain.<br />
<br />
In the Britain I knew, throughout my youth and student years, anti-semitism seemed to be ubiquitous. There was no official discrimination but anti-semitism was still woven into the culture. I was subjected at one point or another to the whole gamut, from jokes and insinuations through scorn and ostracization to actual physical assault. Equally upsetting was the experience of meeting a new person and agonizing over when (if at all) to 'admit' my Jewishness. Would he/she still find me worthy or would his/her face twist in an effort to avoid disgust?<br />
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Most non Jews were not anti-semitic and I had many non Jewish friends but the thought of having to regularly contend with boorish anti-semitism for the rest of my life was sufficient to convince me to move to Israel. At the time, "making aliya" was considered by many British Jews to be an act of almost heroic proportions, but I always thought that the real Jewish heros were those who stayed on to face the anti-semites.<br />
<br />
Fast forward almost 50 years. Surely my past experiences have long been superceded by a new, more tolerant reality. People have evolved, we're all surely aware by now of the need to embrace "the other". Actual outcome: in 2018 there was a record breaking number of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2019/feb/07/antisemitic-incidents-uk-record-high-third-year-in-row-community-security-trust">antisemitic incidents in the UK</a> for the third consecutive year. Over 100 per month.<br />
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What a contrast then to discover that Germany was taking robust steps to tackle antisemitism, although some would argue, not the right kind of "anti-semitism" and not for the right reasons.<i> </i><br />
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In May, a no doubt well-intentioned Bundestag overwhelmingly <a href="https://www.jpost.com/Israel-News/German-Bundestag-rules-BDS-is-antisemitic-589999">passed a resolution </a> (non-binding) titled "Resisting the BDS movement decisively - fighting anti-semitism." It states that "the argumentation patterns and methods used by the BDS movement are anti-semitic" and that its Don't Buy (from Israel) campaign was reminsicent of the Nazi era "Judenboykott".<br />
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The only party to abstain was the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD). Obviously because being far-right they would naturally tend to be anti-semitic and therefore pro BDS, right? Wrong! The AfD had submitted their own motion calling for a <b>total </b>ban on BDS in Germany. Yes, it's a topsy-turvy world out there in antisemitism politics nowadays and it makes for strange bedfellows.<br />
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Naturally, official Israel, from Netanyahu down, was quick to congratulate the Bundestag for taking, "an important step in the war against the boycott and the new anti-semitism." But there was also a barrage of criticism from left-leaning Jewish intellectuals, 240 of whom signed a petition calling on the German government not to adopt the motion and asserting that,"boycotts are a legitimate nonviolent tool of resistance". The controversy spread. After Peter Schafer, the respected director of Berlin's Jewish Museum, endorsed the petition, there was a public outcry and <a href="https://www.haaretz.com/world-news/europe/berlin-jewish-museum-director-resigns-after-tweet-supporting-bds-freedom-of-speech-1.7369819">he was forced to resign</a>.<br />
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Pitching in from Israel, Meretz Knesset member Michal Rozin wrote to German lawmakers that the legislation was, "disturbing and destructive for the possibility of peace here on the ground" The main concern, she wrote, should be the scenario of annexation , "not the campaign of the Israeli government against the BDS movement which distracts from this grim reality."<br />
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Or, as Prof. Daniel Blatman Israeli historian and chief historian of the Warsaw Ghetto Museum put it in Haaretz<i> </i>, we are the midst of a "historical revolution in the undertsanding of anti-semitism: No longer do anti-semitic Germans define who is a Jew that must be ostracised from society, but rather certain Jews define who is an anti-Semite or who is a philo-Semite and the Germans adopt their view." This, <a href="https://www.haaretz.com/opinion/.premium-maybe-when-it-comes-to-anti-semitism-no-different-germany-exists-1.7434793">he argued</a>, was case of, "functional anti-semitism" that defines Jews and non-Jews alike based on an array of specifications and traits that suits Israel's current nationalism."<br />
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In the Richard Zimler story, assuming it's true, the presumption of a fierce anti-semitic response to his invitation led to a cowardly decision by non-antisemites to bow to the power of an assumed anti-semitic mob and to boycott a Jewish writer, unconnected to Israel, merely on the basis of his ethnicity. The damage to Zimler himself is slight, and the jury is still out on whether his case represents a trend or was just some weird aberration. It must nevertheless add another wrinkle of concern to British Jews, already appalled by the inability of the Labour Party to deal with antisemitism within its ranks and wondering what the future might hold.<br />
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In Germany, a cocktail of residual Holocaust guilt mixed with Israeli diplomatic pressure, produced a resolution that places restrictions on freedom of speech and places the definition of who is an anti-semite solely in the hands of Israel's government and its allies. What is certain is that in the international antisemitism games, Israeli political interests play a key role.<br />
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In return for the support of populist leaders in Hungary and Poland who drive a useful wedge into the EU's positions on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Netanyahu is prepared to turn a blind eye to what some are calling the "distortion of antisemitism" in those countries. Similarly, the Bundestag resolution has much more more to do with the future of "Judea and Samaria" than the fight against anti-semitism in Germany. In that sense it is hardly less depressing than what happened to Richard Zimler.<br />
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<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-51243931105361505512019-06-19T05:53:00.000-07:002019-06-22T00:03:57.572-07:00Why annexation is a big deal <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYEyioC7qqH0whuEV3v5DgqQwaBE19Lupa7R_Lq1vkZ4elNB8Vyd4iajLwp2d42jzCrbmScCuLL1tEm_EMlfcP7kdGAeQi75ZqSuLTFEGM0X__Se6sW7J3EP9pv6iIqEkwty4KY5DQ8tW/s1600/201306_area_c_poster_eng.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="510" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYEyioC7qqH0whuEV3v5DgqQwaBE19Lupa7R_Lq1vkZ4elNB8Vyd4iajLwp2d42jzCrbmScCuLL1tEm_EMlfcP7kdGAeQi75ZqSuLTFEGM0X__Se6sW7J3EP9pv6iIqEkwty4KY5DQ8tW/s400/201306_area_c_poster_eng.jpg" width="340" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">This is B'tselem's map of Area C (in red), the figures might no longer be accurate. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I made a silent vow that this renewed phase of Tel
Aviv Rooftop would keep politics to the absolute minimum. I'm breaking it so
soon because annexation is in the air. And annexation is a big deal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
The annexation in question is that of Area C of the West Bank, which the Oslo
accords placed under full Israeli military and civil control but which
international law deems "occupied territory". Area C comprises 62% of
the land, all of the Israeli settlements and, depending on who you ask, between
80,000 and almost 300,000 Palestinians. Placing Area C under Israeli
sovereignty would leave almost 3 million additional West Bank Palestinians
stranded in Areas A and B - an archipelago of disconnected towns and
villages. Israel might offer the Palestinian Authority a kind of
Bantustan 'autonomy' in these islands but, even in the extremely unlikely event
that they would accept it, the annexation of Area C would undoubtedly mean the
end of the "two state solution", the end of the Palestinian ambitions
for their own state and the end of Israel as we know it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
The argument that under a so-called "one state solution" Israel would
be neither democractic nor Jewish has been repeated endlessly. Netanyahu
himself has stated that he is against Israel becoming "bi-national"
(a euphemism for one state). But what might that mean in practice?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
Imagine this situation: Some four million Palestinians (West Bank +
"Israeli Arabs") are irrevocably under Israeli control with no
hope of self-determination. Greater Israel comprises almost as many
Palestinians as Jews. In a dramatic meeting, the Palestinian Authority
disbands itself. Both sides have thrown the Oslo Accords into the garbage heap
of history. Israeli troops are now patrolling the major Palestinian cities,
where there is ongoing unrest and daily violence. Areas A and B are being
administered by Israeli government officials and the salaries of West Bank
Palestinian doctors, nurses, teachers and civil servants are now being paid by
the Israeli treasury. The Muqata'a in Ramallah, the former headquarters of
Palestinian 'President' Mahmoud Abbas, is now staffed by soldiers from the
IDF's Central Command. Rightist dreams that the WB Palestinians will be granted
political rights by Jordan have been dismissed out of hand by King Abdullah.
Israel is fending off a barrage of external condemnations and boycotts (Trump
excluded) while internal polarization has never been greater. "One person
one vote for Palestinians" has become a rallying cry throughout the world;
many Palestinians join the call, others join Hamas. Manifestations of
antisemitism in Europe and the US have snowballed. The stream of liberal
Israelis to safer shores swells to an exodus. I could go on ...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
The ravings of a disgruntled, self-hating leftie? Really? For what,
if not such nightmare scenarios, have persuaded successive Israeli
governments to resist appeals by the zealots to apply sovereignty to 'Judea and
Samaria' since 1967? Yes, Israel annexed Jerusalem and the Golan Heights, but
taking the West Bank would be biting off more than it can chew. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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So, anti-Zionists everywhere take heart. If Israel starts annexing chunks of
Area C, your day will soon be coming. The country that once claimed to be
'Jewish and democratic ' will suddenly, irrevocably be neither. And,
incredibly, all this will accomplished by it's own hand, by "the most
right wing Israeli government ever". Together with your most loyal allies,
the jubilant Jewish settler lobby, you will emerge victorious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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But what are the real chances of annexation happening?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Well, at least superficially, The signs are all around us. The pressure to
annex Area C has gradually moved from the parties on the messianic religious
right (e.g. Jewish Home) to an ever more militant and religious Likud. On
Netanyahu's watch, Likudniks with liberal values (Beni Begin, Rubi Rivlin, Dan
Meridor) have been replaced with a young guard of militants which seems to be
losing patience with the unresolved status quo in "Judea and Samaria".
With some half a million Israelis now living over the Green Line the notion
that settlers should be subject to special rules, or international
interference, is to them, anathema. "We win elections," they
grumble, "but we don't rule." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Moreover, the idea is gaining traction with the general public. A recent
Haaretz poll found that 42% of the Israeli public favored some form of
annexation (11% full annexation with political rights for Palestinians; 16%
full annexation with no political right and 15% "just" area C). Only
28% were opposed to any annexation and 30% didn't know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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And then, Bibi himself, three days before the April 9 general election, stated
baldly "</span><span style="background: white; color: #2d2d2d; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Yes. I will extend sovereignty but I don't distinguish
between the settlement blocs and the isolated ones, because each settlement is
Israeli and I will not hand it over to Palestinian sovereignty." True,
given the timing, t</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">his
was a transparent bid to siphon off votes from his more militant right wing
coalition partners, but once on the record it becomes hard to shake off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Now comes the statement (June 9, New York Times) by Trump's pro-settlement
ambassador to Israel, David Friedman, </span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">“Under certain circumstances, I
think Israel has the right to retain some, but unlikely all, of the West Bank.” </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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In Israel, (and around the world) this was generally understood as Friedman
preparing the ground for eventual recognition of annexation. And why not, given
Trump's track record - recognition of Israeli sovereignty over the Golan
Heights in March this year and of Jerusalem as Israel's capital in 2017.
It's little wonder that the Palestinians, furious with the Trump
administration, are redoubling their efforts not to cooperate with his limping
'Deal of the Century'. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Some, however, have noted a discrepancy between the "Friedman backs
annexation!" headlines and what he actually said. While Netanyahu used the
words "extend sovereignty," a phrase indistinguishable from
annexation, Friedman used the more diplomatic, "retain" and
would not "prejudge" how the US might respond to a unilateral
annexation move. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
Meanwhile, exhausted by the recent last elections, held hostage by its prime
minister in the sacred cause of keeping him out of jail on corruption charges,
Israel is again heading for new elections in September. When the results are
in, Avigdor Liberman (Yisrael Beitenu) could well hold the keys to
Bibi's next coalition yet again. Knowing that, will Netanyahu use the
annexation card to siphon off votes from his rival and prop up his fragile
regime? You can put money on it. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />If you are a person who wants Israel to maintain its Jewish majority and if it matters to you that Israel remains a democracy, you would want to </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">avoid the annexation of
Area and C at almost any price and this indeed is what Israel has done up until now. Moreover,
no-one is marching in the streets for annexation and 'Let's Annex' flags are
not hanging from Israeli balconies. It's not going to happen very soon. It
could happen gradually and not in one fell swoop. But for as long as the
right-religious camp remains in power in Israel and for as long as Trump
remains in power in the US, it will be the threat of annexation - not
Iran, not Hezbollah, not Hamas - that will be the biggest threat to
Israel's existence. </span></div>
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Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-17217125925478803352019-06-02T06:40:00.001-07:002019-06-02T12:46:34.269-07:00Re-Remembering David Crosby<br />
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<o:p></o:p><span style="text-indent: -36pt;">We recently saw the film <i>David Crosby: Remember My Name </i>at
the Tel Aviv Cinematheque and as I write, I’m listening to his hauntingly
beautiful music on Spotify. Sitting close to us in the audience was the
multitalented American-Israeli guitarist/songwriter Danny Sanderson (<i>Kaveret,
Gazoz</i> etc.) </span><span style="text-indent: -36pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -36pt;">and next to him, wearting
sunglasses, was the actress Anat Atzmon, perhaps<i> the</i> sex symbol of Ashkenazi 1970s
Israel (<i>Dizengoff 99</i>). But times have changed and Anat is currently appearing
in the Yiddishspiel Theater production of <i>Bistu Shein</i> – a “sweeping musical
drama interlaced with the best hits of the Barry Sisters.” Danny has also
mellowed with the years. He recently played his classic hits with the Israel
Philharmonic. Danny and Anat, like much of the audience, like us, were over 60
and looking it. </span></div>
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Soon, we all plunged together with the white-maned Crosby-
surprised as anyone to still be alive – through his glorious, tragic, manic
life. Completely candid, Crosby was clearly in the mood to repent and used the
film as his confession box. Sorrowfully, he mentioned that none of the major
artists he had worked with (e.g Neil Young, Roger McGuinn, Graham Nash, Steven
Stills) would talk to him today. Amazingly he can still hit the top notes like
no other and is performing a recording with cool young artists less than half
his age. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When the lights went up the audience applauded, weakly. I wondered
how many of them felt any real connection to his story of rebellion, rock’n’roll
and self-abuse set against turbulent America in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Beyond the
fringes of the Israeli left and the Tel Aviv <i>bohema, </i>that brand of smash -the-system-and-let’s-get-stoned counter culture never really caught on in an Israel already
high from winning the Six Day War. Legend has it that in the early 1960s, Golda
Meir prevented the Beatles from performing in Israel since she was afraid that
would “corrupt the youth.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I only came across Crosby myself (as well as CNY and
CSNY) after I arrived in Israel in 1972. <i>Teach Your Children, Helpless,
Our House </i>could be heard wafting over many a kibbutz swimming pool from a
cassette tape imported by a long haired American volunteer. Of course, I knew Graham Nash,
Crosby’s partner in sublime harmony, from the British pop group, the Hollies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Later I would play Crosby’s first solo album <i>If I Could Only
Remember My Name</i> over and over in the echoing space of our living room in
Baka’a in Jerusalem, the glorious harmonies rising to the tall ceiling along with
the hash smoke. The album would then be replaced with the other LPs in a long
wooden ammunition box I had lugged home from the army. That’s how it is in Israel:
the liberal, freedom-seeking culture of the west smacks up against the local
reality. An uncomfortable co-existence. <o:p></o:p></div>
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To this day, although almost bald, I sometimes involuntarily
belt out the first few dramatic bars of “Almost Cut My Hair”.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Playing guitar in an open tunings is always a joy. Apart from
creating a pleasant drone, open tunings seem to change the whole playing
environment, encouraging you to seek out undiscovered new chords. Crosby has
his own open tuning – EBDGAD. Play that open chord and you are instantly
transported to Crosby mode. I happened to discover this tuning a few months ago
and after a few days of playing around with it wrote and recorded an
instrumental that I named Crosby. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks to Wetransfer I sent my recording to Itai Kriss in
New York who added a flute part that I think Crosby would approve of.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> <a href="https://soundcloud.com/david-kriss-1/crosby-1">https://soundcloud.com/david-kriss-1/crosby-1</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-61598861621986623032013-05-05T03:54:00.000-07:002013-05-05T03:54:03.768-07:00Metamorphosis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU9n1R2waT61HGTDJi74FGIhqjQb4Ug9pDxd9PN95_y8rv-spSXkABHpDg30Q7AsNHgtqwAUVE3_2gG30RDEXud5FHdu2MPmhDz7unvFOl-7k7djV8e9_DHfImzIuRQVOxwXr7MX-oy7a/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU9n1R2waT61HGTDJi74FGIhqjQb4Ug9pDxd9PN95_y8rv-spSXkABHpDg30Q7AsNHgtqwAUVE3_2gG30RDEXud5FHdu2MPmhDz7unvFOl-7k7djV8e9_DHfImzIuRQVOxwXr7MX-oy7a/s400/DSC_0120.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Florentin is in metamorphosis. Ramshackle constructions are rapidly giving way to new building projects that are springing up everywhere. Here the stylish, Bauhaus inspired residential project designed by Ilan Pivco rises above Florentin's makeshift sheds. </div>
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The street artists are still running wild for now but, as the building cranes approach, like endangered species may soon have to find richer hunting grounds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcjWpRP60faMAilbYGLMXD8pr38LQTGqiLFo2dnu9wWATO-ByQgUxKurkr1Bo7kSQ6e81XH0QvJIjTFGAZZ3e-Fegx9w6lnKuRlndaH2GiwaVZb0c7Vfp0iZ1Pwf5TFB6Vhzcpve5JZtv/s1600/DSC_0115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcjWpRP60faMAilbYGLMXD8pr38LQTGqiLFo2dnu9wWATO-ByQgUxKurkr1Bo7kSQ6e81XH0QvJIjTFGAZZ3e-Fegx9w6lnKuRlndaH2GiwaVZb0c7Vfp0iZ1Pwf5TFB6Vhzcpve5JZtv/s400/DSC_0115.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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These industrial alleyways populated by metal shops, carpenters, students and artists won't be here for much longer.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2ytWkg68w0IYrC5UZzjxHyHMeN7urpvwWA-VQPAOUYVPp25-QsKOSVASYJ4Fvru-5aY224AyWalb1gXUtl8BrIIbcCzrDitg4WSTjnxuqVULpLiRJX9lWeWCmLpD5sB1zjHXWeEXyKDn/s1600/DSC_0095-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2ytWkg68w0IYrC5UZzjxHyHMeN7urpvwWA-VQPAOUYVPp25-QsKOSVASYJ4Fvru-5aY224AyWalb1gXUtl8BrIIbcCzrDitg4WSTjnxuqVULpLiRJX9lWeWCmLpD5sB1zjHXWeEXyKDn/s320/DSC_0095-001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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But two young architects bought an old store, in a street much like the one above, renovated it, designed it to collect as much light as possible and have transformed it into a flat and studio. Their </div>
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block is slated for demolition but meanwhile...</div>
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Spotted in a design studio we visited on' Open Houses' weekend. Tel Aviv separates itself from the rest of the country: a scenario that many would say has already taken place. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi51jYxIHcPjmi5BV8-jtVj0FkNOQjJkRQWigIUe33eMSGp_ETMsK39WSmh9mi9VsWp_UGCTOfqJZ_j7mHqI6vbdy-pB3w65tMKX-k7JdqF3ZBXoHiqtZ-ry4P6tqPjuxNkx4ETh_9dFjU/s1600/DSC_0103-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi51jYxIHcPjmi5BV8-jtVj0FkNOQjJkRQWigIUe33eMSGp_ETMsK39WSmh9mi9VsWp_UGCTOfqJZ_j7mHqI6vbdy-pB3w65tMKX-k7JdqF3ZBXoHiqtZ-ry4P6tqPjuxNkx4ETh_9dFjU/s400/DSC_0103-003.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Back to Florentin for some more street art....<br />
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A detail of ceiling in Neve Shechter , a recently opened religious/cultural centre. The wall paintings were part of the original Templar design. Later the building was called Cafe Lawrence and was used as a cinema for British soldiers.</div>
Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-69448814209590564652013-03-09T01:19:00.002-08:002013-03-09T01:19:38.745-08:00Some new pics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tel Aviv's not Paris but sometimes it can be romantic. <br />
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Street artist Rami Hameiri's studio on Hayarkon.</div>
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An eye grabbing creation of his a few steps up the road with one of the new hotels that are springing up on the sea front in the background. Probably won't be long before Rami's place will be swallowed up by a new building too.<br />
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Dalia's Hats on Nahalat Binyamin. From another time but still open for business. <br />
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In the winter the beach expands.Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-19278919651706371752013-02-02T08:11:00.001-08:002013-02-02T08:11:13.052-08:00Recent images<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Graffiti, Yehuda Halevy corner Allenby. Click and you'll see that the part of his blanket is painted over newspaper </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some images snapped, mainly by phone, in the past few weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">David Ben Gurion reading the Declaration of Independence, a detail from a mosaic created by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nachum_Gutman#cite_note-1">Nahum Gutman </a> the quintessential Tel Aviv artist. It comes from the mosaic sculpture below that has recently been placed between office buildings at the very beginning of Rothschild Boulevard. A few yards away, work is progressing (slowly) on a massive underground parking lot. When it's finished it will be covered and turned into a piazza. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the entire piece, which as a sculpture is, well, ugly. Which is why Tel Avivians never really took to it. For years it was situated on Bialik Street (for my money, the prettiest street in Tel Aviv). If you click on the link above you'll see a photo of it on Bialik. A few years ago Bialik was renovated and the municipality exploited the occasion to replace Gutman's mosaic with a round pond with water lilies that is much more popular. The sculpture was placed in storage to be reassembled years later (without fanfare) in its new location. </span></div>
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A corner of the Central Bus Station. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A false hunt for an exhibition on a Saturday evening took us to Tel Aviv's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tel_Aviv_Central_Bus_Station">Central Bus Station </a>. This gargantuan monstrosity, which took over twenty years to build, and contains a thousand shops and restaurants, was for a few years the biggest bus station in the world (!). Nowadays is now surrounded by neighbourhoods that are now populated almost entirely by migrant workers . A few steps away from Jewish-Arab Tel Aviv -Yaffo you enter a third world more reminiscent of Cairo or Delhi. The big poster on the top left advertising Western Union carries a message in which the first two words are Walang Palya. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An attempt to cheer the place up </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A sculpture by Ofra Zimbalista climbing up the wall of Beit Haomanim (Artists House) in north Tel Aviv </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At 10 Mazeh Steet an old eclectic style building from the 1920s (complete with tower and turrets. colonnades and romantic balconies) which stood forlorn and deserted for years, has been rescued and integrated into a new residential building. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing I didn't come across in the past few weeks is thousands of election campaign posters defacing walls and peeling off noticeboards in the rain. The elections weren't very inspiring but at least most of the campaigning is now done on the Net.</span>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-39779488028248355432013-01-01T05:00:00.002-08:002013-01-01T05:00:40.518-08:00Acco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On New Year's Eve we took the train up to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acre,_Israel">Acco </a>(Acre) to wander around the old city and eat some fish., Despite being steeped in history and rich in architectural treasures, Acco has never taken off a major tourist resort. And there lies its sleepy, run down charm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the moat, part of the impressive Crusader fortifications, someone found a useful way to utilize wasted space. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A courtyard </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Acco, in today's Israel is best known for its humous humous joints and its annual alternative theatre festival but it's also a treat to wander through its authentic shuk whose wares are aimed at local tastes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khan_al-Umdan">The Khan El Omdan </a> (Khan of the Columns) was once an important trading post but has become so run down that entry is limited to the entrance where a man sits selling fresh pomegranate juice. The Khan is crying out for preservation (and a business plan).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here and there, traces of a vanished magnificence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hamudi's spice and coffee shop in the shuq. Business has been slow since the war in Gaza. A lot of cancellations, he told us over a Turkish coffee on the house. </span>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-51877756623711681332012-12-30T03:40:00.002-08:002012-12-30T03:50:48.589-08:00Optimists in Habima Square<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvwPywcjys8cRS5oROY14cAC9FhpiKqCqwec9E1DzPt16lFfGJ89D4Mawe_tOFELBCq9P81QPgzaZjjw3XOWeRUxnBiBd8u7cnujRmltrhnq-nFRYP4hBof6Rdp4FGqqKCUyAy9xChuLl/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvwPywcjys8cRS5oROY14cAC9FhpiKqCqwec9E1DzPt16lFfGJ89D4Mawe_tOFELBCq9P81QPgzaZjjw3XOWeRUxnBiBd8u7cnujRmltrhnq-nFRYP4hBof6Rdp4FGqqKCUyAy9xChuLl/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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I It was a bright and sunny Shabbat and we decided to ride our bikes up to Beit HaOmanim -the Artists House in north Tel Aviv. In Kikar Habima (<a href="http://www.habima.co.il/show_item.asp?levelId=64339">Habima </a>Square) at the end of Rothschild Boulevard we came across this scene.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRUqpdVcKO5eAa-vxJ53oGzn6YVlLKE4ZmmqYJpU5oo12Z4KWPeuuL6DVg5k_HiKgEx7o2ceFpSxyryrognVljdIGehsoTXEarHppFH9GJ-xx6lfy_K-eZ4u26bgfNzfqOd8TthTAyQNs/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRUqpdVcKO5eAa-vxJ53oGzn6YVlLKE4ZmmqYJpU5oo12Z4KWPeuuL6DVg5k_HiKgEx7o2ceFpSxyryrognVljdIGehsoTXEarHppFH9GJ-xx6lfy_K-eZ4u26bgfNzfqOd8TthTAyQNs/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sitting around a table, placed in the sandpit of the sunken garden, were a group of Israelis (on the left) and Palestinians (on the right). Armed with a microphone some bottled water and notepaper they seemed to be debating the finer points of final Israeli-Palestinian peace settlement. Around them, children ran between the flower beds, owners played ball with their dogs. A few interested spectators listened from the deck terraces.As usual, the Israels were casually dressed while the Palestinians were dressed formally. There were no signs of informational material. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9mt-HdwW_guJhN9VzRcEBlTvp6zfJHcRudxhFxMZusNb1LKrUdtQE6w9UWpsUGJFozTm1nYL9nVyayhaWWE-L5KkFeBW8P3NkgpEt10Npr6MvxPXiWUQ4HAu2LsVi5K1GzmdVduE9htO/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9mt-HdwW_guJhN9VzRcEBlTvp6zfJHcRudxhFxMZusNb1LKrUdtQE6w9UWpsUGJFozTm1nYL9nVyayhaWWE-L5KkFeBW8P3NkgpEt10Npr6MvxPXiWUQ4HAu2LsVi5K1GzmdVduE9htO/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was interesting that the Israeli side was not entirely composed of classic left wingers as is normally the case in peace encounters. One of them, in the centre of the picture, was wearing a big white kippa and a shanti-settler style shirt. He also seemed to be representing settler concerns on the panel. From the context, I assumed that they had reached the point where they were discussing the land rights of settlers who chose to remain in Palestine under Palestinian sovereignty.<br />
"And what if I want to sell my house?" asked the bearded man in the kippa.<br />
"Why not," answered one of the Palestinians. "You can buy and sell to whoever you please."<br />
"And what if I get together 30 young families and we want to do a building project in Beit Lehem ?<br />
"I don't see any reason...." mumbled the Palestinian.<br />
"But first give us '67," interjected another Palestinian.<br />
"What do you mean by 'first'?" added one of the Israelis, "Is this a two stage process?"<br />
And so it went.<br />
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Two thoughts ran through my mind. The first was the heartwarming thought that here were a group of committed activists from both sides trying to thrash out mutual problems through debate: and in public no less. They were willing to listen, if not always to agree. The municipality had (presumably) sanctioned the event and as such, it was the sort of commendable democratic practice that could only happen in Tel Aviv (or maybe Haifa). The second was, 'These people are living in La La Land'. (Without going into all the details) the future looks bleak for a negotiated settlement and most Israelis and Palestinians, for different reasons, have lost faith in the idea. These might be people of good will but they were rehearsing for a play that was unlikely to be staged, <br />
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Kikar Habima taken from a different angle and in a different season. A picture postcard of a place.Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-69109981235896255242012-11-18T07:58:00.002-08:002012-11-18T08:10:14.383-08:00Day 5 of Gaza campaign. Some notes from the Rooftop <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wake up, check the news. On Day 5 it seems as though ceasefire talks are underway. French foreign minister flying in. Hamas reps talking to the Egyptians in Cairo. Quiet night in the south and no missiles shot down over Tel Aviv since yesterday morning. On the other hand, tens of thousands of reservists called up with the army preparing itself for a possible ground incursion. Tanks and artillery lined up to go in. Israel, like Hamas with its missiles aimed at symbolic Tel Aviv, upping the ante to deter the other side and/ improve its own starting point for setting cease-fire terms. General impression : Israel doesn't want to send in ground troops but will do if Hamas halts its fire. Hamas wouldn't mind a cease-fire but needs this round to end in a victory so demanding its own terms (opening of Rafah crossing, halt to targeted assassinations). Thankfully drink coffee. Make fruit salad, feeling uncomfortable positioned between a ceasefire and a serious escalation, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Go for a walk. Glorious weather. Decide not to take any form of communication with me so as to be liberated from the news for 45 minutes. Through the quaint alleyways of Neve Tzedek to the beach. Sea as flat as a plate. Sand sparkles in the morning sunlight. A few swimmers, joggers and cyclists. Back home, switch on radio. Earnest conversation with expert on the amazing success rate of <a href="http://www.haaretz.com/news/diplomacy-defense/a-look-at-israel-s-iron-dome-missile-defense-1.478642/a-look-at-israel-s-iron-dome-missile-defense-1.478642">Iron Dome </a>rocket interception system suddenly interrupted by a calm but insistent voice: "Colour Red siren in the Ashkelon Beach Regional Council"; the signal for everyone in that area to scramble for the shelters. An actress selling accident insurance to the over 50s punctuated by "Colour Red alert in Ashdod, Colour Red alert in Ashdod." Appears that the talks aren't going so well, or perhaps that these are their final salvos aimed at justifying a declaration of victory before the cease fire kicks in? Take a shower. Start worrying about a ground incursion. Tying up my shoes before going out, I hear the siren go off outside. Chain reaction:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Uncertainty: </b>Is that really a siren?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Fear</b>: A missile could land on my head and kill me!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Rationalization</b>. After all what are the statistical chances of my specific building being hit?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Irrational Confusion</b>: 'Where the hell did I put the phone? Can't go downstairs without the phone..</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Movement</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out of the door and to the landing one floor down which, according to the Home Front Command, is the safest place to be if you live on the third floor of a three floor building and can't otherwise get to the shelter in a minute and a half. Hear the families on the bottom floors entering the shelter which we recently cleared of excess bikes to make room for its original purpose. Think to myself, this is stupid, after all what are the statistical chances of my specific building being hit? Hear very audible BOOM!. Think thank goodness I wisely chose this relatively protected space. See neighbour 'L' slowly opening her door clutching two month old baby girl, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">both of them bleary eyed ,</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and slowly descend the steps, . "They seem to time them with her naps," L tells me unhappily, clearly feeling the pressure. "Is it over?" she asks? I tell her it is and we both go back up. I tell her to tell me if she needs anything. Back in the flat I remember that you're supposed to stay in protected space for 10 minutes after siren. What the hell. 'A' calls. Tells me that someone saw the rocket being intercepted over the sea opposite Yaffo. Radio presenter reminds me and other spoiled residents of central Israel that what we just experienced has been the daily experience of residents of the south for 12 years. I also wonder what it feels like in Gaza with over a thousand airstrikes in 4 days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Walk to the post office, shops, forgetting to follow Home Front instructions to constantly spy out protected spaces should I be caught short by an incoming missile. Neighbourhood as usual. People in cafes, girls on bikes, except that an ever higher percentage are glued to their phones. Serious cash register problems at Bagir menswear outlet unconnected to Operation Pillar of Defense. Lady at post office especially friendly: perhaps something to do with wartime camaraderie? At the local mini market I ask 'N' the cashier where they run to when the sirens go off. To the ground floor of a building under construction over the road, she says. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back home, see this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">"The Iron Dome anti-rocket </span><span style="background-color: white;">system i</span><span style="background-color: white;">ntercepted two rockets fired at Tel Aviv Sunday morning. A siren sounded in the central city</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">shortly before the interception and an explosion was heard. Hamas's Izzadin Kassam Brigades took responsibility for the launches.</span>Shrapnel from the interception struck a car in the greater Tel Aviv area, setting the vehicle on fire. There were no immediate reports of injury."</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;">The car hot by shrapnel </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;">in Holon </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;">from the rocket interception over Tel Aviv. The driver jumped out in time and was saved. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S</span>tart fretting that these "strategic" attacks on Tel Aviv might push Bibi/Barak into ordering a ground incursion. See that, according to US officials, "<span style="background-color: white;">Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu assured US President Barack Obama on Friday that he does not plan to launch a ground operation in the Gaza Strip - unless Hamas escalates its rocket war.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> Wonder if those two rockets constitute an escalation? </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Check out the news sites: </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Rocket seriously wounds man in Sha'ar Hanegev region. Rocket strikes building in Ashkelon : no injuries. Netanyahu: IDF prepared to broaden Gaza operations. IAF strikes launching area of Tel Aviv bound missiles.25 missiles hit Israel throughout the morning. MDA treats 4 injured throughout the morning. 12 for shock.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On TV, another expert is in the middle of a long winded Koranic analogy demonstrating Hamas's duplicity vis -a- vis the Islamist splinter groups in Gaza when we cut to Ashdod where the sirens a have been blaring. See pictures of a bombed out living room. Nobody hurt because they were in the stairwell. Turns out that Naftali Bennet, new head of the religious-rightist Jewish Home is also in Ashdod. He wants to stop messing about, send in the army, topple the Hamas government, reoccupy Gaza and set up an Israeli controlled buffer between Gaza and Egypt to halt the flow of missiles. A siren goes off behind him. TV announcer says we're halting the interview. Naftali runs for shelter.We see a picture of a deserted square in the middle of Ashdod, sirens wailing. Later local residents emerge, one of them competing with reporter for camera's attention and telling us that she's prepared to stay in the shelters for as long as it takes as long as they let the army do the job and stop the missiles "once and for all. Amen!" </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Radio expert says that the next 24 hours will be "crucial".Tune into Galei Tzahal for news but the army station is broadcasting from the Sapir Regional College near Sderot, a town noted for the disproportionate number of talented musicians as well as the disproportionate number of Qassam rockets it has absorbed.We're hearing an interview with a promising local singer-songwriter about to release his first alum but are interrupted by "Colour Red siren in the Eshkol Regional Council". Sorry, Noam, when did you say the album was coming out?</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">17.15. By now 70 rockets fired at Israel today, 40 of which intercepted. But no firing for the past 90 minutes. Reports coming in of an entire Gazan family killed. Gazan death toll now 60. Expert says that following the massive airstrikes of the first few days, Gazans don't know when the next one is coming. They've stocked up on food and water and are staying indoors. IDF has taken over Hamas radio and TV broadcasting messages to stay away from Hamas firing positions and warning of an impending ground incursion.Not far away, tens of thousands of young soldiers and older reservists are waiting for an order that may or not come. Each of them with a family and friends. Expert 1 says problem is that neither side yet has the "winning picture" that can allow it to halt without losing face. Expert 2 says that a tahadiye/ cease fire agreement has almost been reached but predicted it wouldn't last more than a month or two before unraveling like all the others. <i>Ma shehaya ze ma sheyihyeh.</i> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">What happened in the past, we'll have in the future. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-9942514499225622112012-09-19T03:14:00.003-07:002012-09-19T03:28:56.717-07:00Everything's Gold<div class="MsoNormal">
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The writer and poet <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haim_Hefer">Haim Heffer </a> a bastion of secular Israeli culture from the “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmach">Palmach</a>
generation”, passed away yesterday and today they are playing his songs on the
radio. When I first arrived in Israel and began to distinguish a few Hebrew words
in the songs I was hearing on the radio, many of them were his. I also cut my teeth on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maqama">maqamas </a>that he wrote in Yedioth Aharonoth, in
which he’d comment in rhyme on current affairs – a form that seems hopelessly outdated
now but was taken seriously then. Even someone taking his first steps in the language
could recognize that Heffer was a master wordsmith with a prolific output. But,
for me, the sentiments expressed in many of his lyrics belonged too closely to
the 1948 generation, to times and places before my time, that were foreign to me. . <o:p></o:p></div>
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Not so with one song that I loved from the start : Hakol
Zahav (Everything’s Gold). Heffer wrote
the lyrics for the singing troupe Ha-Tarnegolim (The Roosters) under the direction of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naomi_Polani">Naomi Polani</a>. Since the Tarnegolim, who became wildly successful, started appearing only in 1960, I prefer to think that the song's upbeat message was not
intended to lift the nation’s morale but rather to simply lift the human spirit
in general in the wide-eyed style that the Tarnegolim were perfecting. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You can hear the original version <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bknkhgVX9c">here</a> </div>
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Hakol Zahav’s music is the work of another master, the much
loved composer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sasha_Argov">Sacha (Alexander)
Argov</a>. Argov’s intricate but unforgettably jaunty melody and Heffer’s childish, irreverent
wordplay meshed to create an Israeli classic. The message is simple :
everything around you is beautiful if you have the eyes to see it. This
pre-dates the Beatles “There’s nothing
you can see that can’t be seen” by almost a decade.</div>
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Heffer niftily plants the word ‘gold’
throughout the song, almost creating the illusion in the mind of the listener
that his/her own world is composed entirely of sunbeams. It also helps that the
Hebrew word for orange ‘<i>tapuz</i>’ is an abbreviation of <i>tapuah-zahav</i> (golden
apple). And then comes the C part where Heffer writes (in rough unrhymed translation)</div>
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"Not everyone who goes out into the street</div>
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Sees what his eyes meet</div>
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Mostly, a person goes out into the street</div>
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Distracted by his own concerns </div>
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I feel like getting up close to him</div>
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And telling him with a a big wide grin</div>
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What a night! What a sea! </div>
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What shade! How hot it is!</div>
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Go crazy you idiot!</div>
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Do nothing with everyone else! </div>
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Ring bells for no good reason!</div>
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Look around you man - everything is gold!"<br />
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(It sounds better in Hebrew)</div>
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Hearing these yelps of wonderment at the everyday ordinary, with lyrics that could almost be taken from from "Hair", Ha-Kol Zahav, which had been recorded a decade before I heard in, say 1973, stood head and shoulders above the sentimental, patriotic fodder of the time. And while I was conscious that someone who had heard Hendrix play live should not be enjoying a song with an 'umpa umpa' rhythm accompanied by an accordion, it was too late, I was hooked.... Looking back, it might not be too much of an exaggeration that Ha-Kol Zahav was an important part of my integration process, an Israeli song that seemed, somehow, to resonate with the "counter culture" that I was familiar with.. <br />
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And maybe, in the rebellious universality of the message, also lies the secret of the endurance of Ha- Kol Zahav as new generations of musicians cover it in different styles. </div>
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Here’s a clip from an Israeli film called 'Danny Hollywood' where the singers start off by parodying the original and then launch into a
rock version (You may have to copy it. Blogger doesn't want to insert videos)</div>
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUCGN09-mJU&feature=related</div>
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Avi Adaki did this “indie version” a few years ago, changing the jolly umpa umpa rhythm to an Arabic beat and turning the “C” part into reggae.<br />
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<a href="http://e.walla.co.il/?w=/272/1785216">http://e.walla.co.il/?w=/272/1785216</a></div>
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Photographers too are always on the lookout for the sort of golden light that lifts the spirit and think themselves lucky if is they stumble across it.. </div>
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Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-65885734991063808202012-09-09T13:05:00.000-07:002012-09-19T03:25:58.075-07:00Changing places <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We've recently returned from two weeks in the USA visiting family and had the good luck to exchange the Rooftop for a fortnight with Paula Derrow and her husband whom we met through a house exchange site. So while Paula and R were discovering the charms of Neve Tzedek, A & I were wandering around the Upper West Side. And while they were enjoying the beach here at the eastern end of the Mediterranean, we were riding bikes down the Hudson River Greenway, all the way to Battery Park.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apart from the financial savings, people who exchange homes do so in order to simulate the experience of living as an "ordinary" person in a foreign place. Living in an apartment block and not in a hotel, means that you get to meet the neighbours in the stairwell or the lift; you visit the local grocery store, buy in local shops and eat in local restaurants. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everywhere we went in New York, people were kind, courteous and patient. What happened to the brusque and gritty New York of old we wondered? Where did all the fast-talking hard-bitten New Yorkers with no time for tourists go? But time and again people went out of their way to direct us or help us in some way. We also noticed that neighbours greeted each other more generously than in Tel Aviv. That people acknowledged each other and seemed more open to some sort of social contact than in Israel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Times Square?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we got home and started exchanging notes with Paula, she shared her blog 'The 49th Year' where she'd written some posts about her stay. After praising the virtues of New Yorkers, it was somewhat startling to read her impressions of Israelis (mainy Tel Avivians). Fo For example people she was introduced to , took the time to show her around Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, something that a New Yorker would never do. And there was more... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 14.44444465637207px;">"One thing that's so nice about being a tourist in this town is that all these people take you right into their world--they are not jaded about tourists the way New Yorkers are but are genuinely interested about where we're from, why we're here, what we've done. (Imagine listening to a Times Square tourist with such interest and enthusiasm.)" </span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 14.44444465637207px;"> </span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How is that Paula was able to strike up numerous conversations in which complete strangers expressed genuine interest in her when in my experience that is a fairly rare occurrence in Tel Aviv. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Amish (?) cheese seller and attractive clients, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Farmers Market, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Union Square </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"And about the Israeli
character, so often described as pushy, money grubbing, arrogant:" wrote Paula "Yes, we've
seen some arrogance, but mostly we've seen warmth, eagerness to help and
happiness that we've come to their country, despite trouble brewing with Iran.
Kind of like misapprehensions about New Yorkers."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This cynical Tel Avivian might suggest that, "happiness that we've come to their country, despite trouble brewing with Iran," could be also construed as amazement that anyone would be so foolhardy as to visit a city that could soon find itself under a barrage of missiles. In the two weeks that I was in new York, Iran was hardly mentioned in the news while in Israel the threat of war had been headlining for weeks, driving us all to the verge of hysteria. So Paula, (I'm admittedly speculating now) was probably vaguely aware of tension with Iran while the people she spoke to were all too keenly aware of it, not to say truly afraid and naturally assumed that she would would be too. We might live in global village but, unless you really look for it, the news is still doled out in local flavours, sometimes leaving the tourist in a state of blissful ignorance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Crossing the street in Manhattan. Aristocratic locals? Visiting Austrians? </span><br />
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<i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meshane makom meshane mazal</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (Change your place and you'll change your luck) goes the Hebrew saying. In New York, exuding the relaxed, vibrations of befuddled tourists, we may have prompted some of the kind and polite reactions we got there. Paula and her husband, both undoubtedly charming people, may have elicited a similar response here. A response reserved, to an extent, for outsiders? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Street musician and Omaba supporter, playing for change</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See Paula Derrow's blog <a href="http://thefortyninthyear.blogspot.com/">here</a> (scroll down for her Israel trip)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More photos of New York City and Connecticut </span><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102567923813869920997/USA2012" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> here </a></div>
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Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-60512452362477377702012-08-10T07:32:00.002-07:002012-08-10T07:34:23.660-07:00Evidence of normality on the Rooftop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOGSfMrU1B9Ka-kOVeOIxgK7NLZKeFBecIrmvPSTq9DRZSBSxdgWJEFovZxi3ypXhBUhYmo4dwSDwuNdg7VHle2eVkPr6uyh0Ulmaw8F5popt5PK1SpKM8SlztHWa1I0RLYajum6wmMHE/s1600/DSC_0308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzOGSfMrU1B9Ka-kOVeOIxgK7NLZKeFBecIrmvPSTq9DRZSBSxdgWJEFovZxi3ypXhBUhYmo4dwSDwuNdg7VHle2eVkPr6uyh0Ulmaw8F5popt5PK1SpKM8SlztHWa1I0RLYajum6wmMHE/s400/DSC_0308.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The endless hot-muggy weather has kept me more indoors than out. It's only in the early morning or evenings that I escape the AC for some fresh air. Venturing out at sunrise a few days ago I discovered that a fully grown sunflower had appeared on the Rooftop. </div>
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Over the road, signs of work on the Tel Aviv metro. <br />
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A humid haze hangs over the sea to the west.<br />
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To the north on nearby Yitzhak Elkhanan, a big residential tower is going up.<br />
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The sun rising through the office buildings to the east.<br />
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To be welcomed by the sunflower...<br />
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At this time, with the threat (no one for sure knows how real) of an imminent war with Iran and its satellites feeling more credible by the day, and just before we head off for NYC for a family visit, I wanted to post these signs of normality. In a superstitious attempt to ward off the coming disaster? As a way of documenting the Rooftop and its immediate surroundings before the .... </div>
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Here's a small sampling from today's news:</div>
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"A foul wind is blowing over Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, with weekend
gusts toward Caesarea. A wind of pugnacity. Before the eyes of Prime Minister
Benjamin Netanyahu, and in the spirit of the chants of which he is so fond
("They are frightened"; "There's no free lunch" ) - it's as if a new sign has
been raised high, bearing the words: "Strike now!" " (Haaretz)</div>
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"Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defense Minister Ehud Barak advocate an attack of Iran's nuclear facilities in the upcoming fall, Yedioth Ahronoth's senior commentators Nahum Barnea and
Shimon Shiffer reported Friday. According to Barnea and Shiffer, "Not a single state official or military
official or even the president – supports an Israeli attack in Iran." (Ynet)<br />
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Paris has reportedly drawn up emergency plans to evacuate French citizens from
Israel in case of war.<br />
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The plan, reported by French news outlet La Tribune, would see 200,000
French nationals ferried in small boats to large warships stationed in
the Mediterranean.Diplomatic sources told the news outlet the plan was
drawn up amid fears that Israel may come under attack from Iran or Hezbollah in
the wake of an Israeli attack on Iranian nuclear sites. (Times of Israel)</div>
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Wishing us all a safe fall.... </div>
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<br />Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3170491482852297087.post-60006334750248542762012-07-22T06:26:00.003-07:002012-07-22T06:26:30.105-07:00(Keep on) Rockin' in the Free World<br />
July 12, Neve Yosef Community Center, Haifa. MidLife Crisis performs Neil Young's socially relevant 'Rockin' in the Free World' at a the Neve Yosef community theater festival. Filmed by ML.<br />
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It took over three hours navigating traffic jams to get to Haifa in Danny B's 'band van' and when we arrived at the prestigious "back balcony" stage, the audience consisted of roughly 3 little girls and a savta . But MLC will never pass up a gig, no matter how small (as long as we're all free that day and preferably if there's a drum set). After a few numbers, more people dropped in. A few started dancing. For once we had monitors and could hear ourselves. Threatened with only a short 45 minutes, our set extended to over an hour and a good rockin time was had by all. We've been promised the "front balcony" next year. At last, the big time! <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7ARkUo4SfXU?fs=1" width="459"></iframe>Tel Aviv Rooftophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428273705568403755noreply@blogger.com0