The Future is Now

A couple things before I start this entry. First off, the pictures I’m popping in here are not relevant to the discussion… I just haven’t posted them yet, and rather than post relevant pictures and then have to post these again, I’m just going to do these now. Second, many of you will read this post and say it belongs in the random musings section… but it’s my blog… so if you want to sort blog posts… start your own. In yo’ face.

Thirdly, I swear to god if anyone else tells me how awesome it is to be having Thanksgiving right now, I will blow a fuse. Although I do have good news on that front (which we’ll get to), I want my freaking spinach pie and my annual chess game with Alan and my spinach pie and the obnoxious conversation at the dinner table (but don’t let my absence stop you from egging Dawn on, Uncle Johnny… always funny) and the stuffing and the pre-thanksgiving tenderloin and the post-thanksgiving tamales and leftovers. And my freaking spinach pie.

Anywhosits, today was a charming day. I studied all afternoon yesterday, and it only dawned on me this morning that in all of that studying, I never did my homework. So this morning, I did my homework, and when class was done, I took Harry Potter, my Hebrew to Hebrew dictionary (yeah that’s right: i’m too awesome for english translations), and my towel to the beach. And I sat and read for a while, and I napped, and I enjoyed the cool breeze and the sound of the Mediterranean. I’m leaving here in exactly six weeks, and I’m starting to feel that overwhelming regret.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m more than ready to be home, with friends and family and a language I don’t have to focus to fully understand. The regret isn’t over leaving. It’s ineffable… but I find myself with the same regrets I had as college began to wind down. I’m recognizing that one day I will know exactly how valuable to and influential on my life the time i have spent here has been, and when I do, I will wish I had recognized it while I was here, so I could have soaked it up every minute of every day. I loved college, but what changes your life about college is not the classes or the studies or the relationships, it’s the impact those experiences have on your persona, and when you look back nostalgically on all you did and all you learned, you can’t help but wonder how that wave of satisfaction and self-comprehension would have felt washing over you in the moment instead of a few years down the road.

So I enjoyed the beach and pondered eventual regret. I know it sounds odd. But if it’s possible for a notion of catharsis to be cathartic, then I guess that’s what I had going today.

Or maybe it’s the meth.

Just kidding Grandma.

After my time on the beach, I stopped at a bistro and had a bite of lunch. While I waited for my food (which by the way, I must mention, is never much of a wait. It’s freaking unbelievable how quickly they prepare and serve food in this country), I read my paperback copy of The Audacity of Hope, which arrived in the mail a couple days ago. You know, for all the jargon I’ve heard from anti-Obamaites about how he’s the “most liberal guy in the senate,” I’ve never heard one person cite any other reference than conservative pundits and Fox News. And if any of those people read this book, I think they’d be pleasantly surprised. I mean, there’s no doubt he’s a democrat, but he makes as compelling a point supporting bipartisan rational thought and mutual understanding in his book as he does in his oratory.

So far, here are two passages that have really resonated with me:

…the Democratic Party has become the party of reaction. In reaction to a war that is ill conceived, we appear suspicious of all military action. In reaction to those who proclaim the market can cure all ills, we resist efforts to use market principles to tackle pressing problems. In reaction to religious overreach, we equate tolerance with secularism, and forfeit the moral language that would help infuse our policies with a larger meaning.

It’s this last section that sticks with me. Democrats who support tolerance and benevolence amongst all (black, white, gay, straight, etc.) respond to claims that they are anti-religion by accepting the role of the non-religious and therefore amoral party. I am a person who has always believed that religious zealousness does not equate to high quality of character, and sometimes even detracts from it, and I think he’s right; why accept the role of the “anti-moral” simply because you don’t believe that a bible that never condemns slavery and asserts man’s superiority to woman is, at the very least, an outdated set of morals?

I think Democrats are wrong to run away from a debate about values, as wrong as those conservatives who see values only as a wedge to pry loose working-class voters from the Democratic base. It is the language of values that people use to map their world. It is what can inspire them to take action, and move them beyond their isolation… [The] broader question of shared values–the standards and principles that the majority of Americans deem important in their lives, and in the life of the country–should be the heart of our politics, the cornerstone of any meaningful debate about budgets and projects, regulations and policies.

It’s like what he said in his DNC speech, where he said you may be “right to life” or you may be “pro-choice,” but we can all agree that we want to see fewer abortions across the board. There’s a difference between ideology and values. And we may have different ideology, but we do share many of the same values.

Again, let me say, I’m apprehensive about his presidency, and I’m absolutely certain there will come a point in the next 4-8 years at which he will break my heart. But these ideas aren’t great because they’re Barack Obama’s; they’re great because they’re true and meaningful.

So let’s get back to my day. I came home after lunch and stuff and began reading some journal articles about foreign student exchange. For those of you who don’t know… I was working on a huge research project my sophomore year of college with the head of the IR department. Our directed, 1-on-1 research was intended to culminate in a 30-40 page paper addressing the next steps our country should take in Cultural Diplomacy, or Soft Power; this professor had asked me to do this project because he knew I was a double-major in IR and music, because he believed I had a unique perspective due to my dual interests, and because I think he liked me. So I began working, but he kind of went MIA, and we never finished the project. After receiving an Incomplete (an “I,” which after a certain period of time transforms into a zero, or in common terms, an “F”), I emailed him and called him for several months, and then all of a sudden, an A- appeared on my transcript.

I wouldn’t be saying or doing anything to jeopardize that… except that (a) i was like, 85% done with the damn thing, and (b) i’m signed up for a class with him when I get back in January. And if he asks me for that paper… I’m screwedsies.

A lot of my research is somewhat out of date now, for a few reasons. First, the report was originally intended to be sent to the Undersecretary of Defense, a friend of his, who has long since left her post in the Bush Administration, which is also about to leave. The recommendations I was intending to make were directed towards a republican-controlled congress and white house, both of which have flipped (I took this directed research during fall of 2005). Not to mention the fact that any recommendations for additional funding for experimental programs centered around music and cultural exchange would get laughed off the table with the cataclysm of economic woe, military misfortune, and domestic uncertainty that we face today.

So I’ve been reading newer articles and redeveloping my arguments. I also think that time both growing up since ‘05 and, frankly, living in a country where national security and cross-cultural understanding are two things that affect the daily lives of literally every single citizen have given me a more mature and more complete understanding of what I’m writing about. I’ve also learned, from all of my all-nighters and countless paper-craftings since sophomore year, some keys to writing great academic papers. So kids, listen up.

First off, you can’t find points in articles, you have to find articles on your points. Instead of saying, “hmmm… what can I learn? what will the data suggest?” go with the scientific method. Come up with hypotheses. Once you have them, use the subjects of your hypotheses as keywords in JSTOR and other journal database searches. You’ll find research that directly supports your hypothesis. Then, as any good academic does, try to disprove your own point. Search for articles that directly contradict your hypothesis. Then decide which side of the data makes the more compelling argument, and go for it. I know it seems cynical to say, “Don’t go in trying to learn,” but I promise you’ll learn a ton whether you want to or not.

Here’s an example of something I learned accidently while trying to prove my hypothesis: do you have any idea how many more students participate in study abroad programs in western europe than anywhere else in the world? And guess which countries’ programs are on the rise? If you answered “China, Japan, and other countries whose economic and social situation is trending up,” you’re smarter than you look. But what does that mean for peripheral states like those in the Middle East, muslim states in Asia, and countries in eastern Europe?  It means countries that either (a) already understand us or feel connected to us, or (b) have strong economic ties to the modern and western world are getting all the love, and countries that don’t are left in the dark to continue misperceiving us as purely hypocritical, self-aggrandizing, and narcissistic. And I mean, we can be those things, but we can be other things too… imagine if Iranians and Saudis and Russians and Pakistanis knew and truly saw that side of us.

I got a phone call from Galia today inviting me to celebrate Thanksgiving with her and her American friends at someone’s house a few blocks away tomorrow night. And I got drinks on Monday night with Michelle Hathaway, a music major from my graduating class who’s working at the Tel-Aviv Opera House for the next few months… she informed me that Mike’s Place, the American bar nextdoor to the American Embassy, will be having a party Thursday night, so I’m guessing I’ll head over there when we’re done at this guy Todd’s house. Funny thing about Galia: she’s Canadian, so this will be the first time she’s ever celebrated Thanksgiving, and she’s doing it in Israel. So… that’s weird.

It’ll probably be a quiet and slightly lonely night for me out here, since I’m just sitting, reading, and thinking about how I could be with my family and my dogs right now on my favorite of all the holidays. But if you’ve managed to read this far in the blog post, this is something I hope you’ll let resonate:

We have a lot to be thankful for. I know it’s cheesy, but take a minute to think about the fears and hardships and traumas that people in this country I’m living in have to face that we will never, ever know. On any given day, there are hundreds of radical militants on every one of their borders attempting to breach the line and wreak havoc on a mostly peaceful population. Kids here don’t go to college until they’re in their mid-twenties because if they don’t serve in the military, there will be no place on earth where Jews can be certain their government will never, ever turn on them.

I don’t mean to say we should be complacent, that we should sit back and grin and rejoice in what we’ve got. Personally, I’m of the opinion that we should express our thankfulness for the lives we lead and the blessings we’ve received by working tirelessly to achieve our full potential, make right the wrongs that we and others have committed, and succeed in any and all of our endeavors. We are so lucky to be able to do what we want to do, enjoy what we want to enjoy, love who we want to love, and be what we want to be. So we should all do, enjoy, love, and be those things, and we should pursue that with unrivaled zeal. Every single day.

I miss you all, and I hope my pedantry hasn’t turned you off of my blog forever…

I get it from my father. So complain to him.

When I See YOU, I See You Upside Down

But my brain knows better… It picks you up and turns you around.

Man what a great song.

Some of you probably wonder why I don’t update constantly with new pictures and new stories and exciting adventures. Today is a good example of why. Last night I was up til almost 2 am, putzing around, reading and watching TV. I woke up a bit before 11 today, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and hit my books. I studied until about 3:15, when I took a break to make myself a sandwich. I then ate my sandwich while trying to read the subtitles of איך פגשתי את אמה, or “How I Met Your Mother,” on TV. Then I did a little studying, til I realized I’d maxed out my brainspace for the day, and I got online to post.

Where are all your pictures from today, Matthew? you may be wondering. You don’t want to see those. I’m in exercise shorts and an undershirt, and I just realized I’ve had mustard on my cheek for like an hour.

I went last night to grab a spot of dinner with Ayala and her friend. I thought we were going to do a movie, but Lazy Kerekesh was too tired, as always. So we got some food, and I came back homesies. I may meet up with Hen tonight at the Bingo bar… we’ll see. I’m trying this new thing where I don’t say no to anything here. I mean except Meth. No meth. I’ve seen those Montana commercials.

 Anyway, the sun has set… it’s 4:45. Amazing how short the day is here nowadays. It’s been a little rainy here too, so I’m not typically up for much wandering. As always, I’d love to hear from all of you… email me your life updates or tell me when you wanna skype, I’d be thrilled. But for now, I think I’ll go record some more music and snack a little. Tomorrow I have class again, so I should also finish my homework up. Ohhh, life.

The Grand Update

“When I began thinking about the question, “What matters to me most?,” I thought, without health, without being healthy, robust, of mind and body… without that, it’s hard to do much else. It’s hard to love, it’s hard to work, it’s hard to have relationships. Health is key, for me.” -Warren Bennis

I realized when my mom was here that I’ve been losing weight, eating poorly (and infrequently, due to the cashlessness) and hardly exercising. And it’s not just my physical health; as interesting and exciting an experience as being here is, it can be lonely and pretty quiet out here, so I’m not entirely mentally healthy. But rest assured, I’m taking deep breaths and eating right and refocusing myself now, making sure that the me that comes back to LA in 46 days is the best possible version of myself. 

So heads up people… this entry is going to be pretty lengthy, because there’s a lot of stuff I want to share with you. I thought about splitting it up into a few entries… which I may still do. I’ll let you know if I change it up. So, as the great Blackstreet once said, “Let’s go back… waaaaaaaay back… back into time!”

A few days before my mother got here, Israel remembered Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. For those of you who don’t know the story of Rabin, I’ll summarize with what I know… Rabin was the first Labor party PM in Israel, and defeating the hawkish Likkud party, the right-wingers in Israel, allowed him and his government to pursue actual peace with the Palestinians. In September of 1993, Rabin received a letter from PLO Leader Yassir Arafat essentially renouncing violence and recognizing, for the first time in the history of Palestinian leadership, Israel’s existence. After Rabin recognized the PLO’s right to lead the Palestinian people and renounced violence as well, he met with Arafat and then-President Clinton to establish the Oslo Accords, which granted the PLO authority in Gaza and the West Bank. In 1994, Rabin won the nobel peace prize with Arafat and Shimon Peres (now President of Israel) for the Oslo Accords, and he oversaw the establishment of peace with Jordan.

The idea of the Oslo Accords was to lay out a framework for a peaceful relationship between Israel and the Palestinian State, and Rabin was committed to achieving that dream. But Israeli society, as always, was very divided over the issue; almost as many people viewed him as a hero as viewed him as a traitor to the Zionist cause. (Sidenote: That’s something that is painfully complex here… any peace will come with sacrifices, land that both sides believes is theirs, and when you don’t trust the other side to maintain peace, how do you feel motivated to make a sacrifice for them? Both sides are right and both sides are wrong.)

A lot of people blame the Oslo Accords for the jump in violence since they went into effect… but I have a feeling that there wouldn’t have been such a jump if Rabin could have finished the work he started. Unfortunately, he never did. On November 4th, 1995, after speaking in what’s now called Rabin Square here in Tel-Aviv, Rabin descended the back steps of the stage and was approached by a right-wing radical Orthodox Jew named Yigal Amir, who leveled a pistol and shot Rabin in the chest. Yigal Amir is still rotting away in prison, and the mention of his name is enough to anger to the point of spitting almost anyone you meet here, even right-wingers; there are enough people killing Jews in this world, we don’t need Jews to be killing Jews too, especially not the ones who devote their lives to the future of the Jewish People.

So I went to this memorial celebration in Rabin Square, and there were thousands upon thousands of people and candles and songs and tears. Interim Prime Minister Tzipi Livni spoke, famed musicians in Israel sang… it was a beautiful celebration. But what I took away from it was this: as horrible as our education system is in the US, and as poorly as we seem to be educating kids around the world, we’re apparently doing something right, because in America with Obama and here with Rabin and Livni, even when society tends to be drifting right-ish, our generation is trending smarter.

I think it is because all we’ve ever really known is a globalized world, that we as a generation tend to understand that there really is no absolute right or absolute wrong opinion, but there’s right and wrong when it comes to the life and liberty of other human beings. Even after the millennia of fighting between these people, there’s hope that one day their children and their grandchildren will not have to secure the borders from imminent threat, that the next generation will be able to sleep near the border of Gaza without worrying they’ll be woken by the Red Alert siren.

Cathy and the Gang arrived on Monday, 11/10, and as soon as class was done I hopped on a train to Akko to meet them. Akko is a small town about an hour and a half north of here by train, and I ended up meeting up with them just before they went to dinner. Apparently this town and the Netanya area are sister cities with San Antonio, so we went to dinner at this family’s house whose matriarch has been actively involved in the relationship with San Antonio’s Jewish Federation and making use of the money being sent each year. They all gave me their names and numbers and invited me back for holidays and dinners whenever I want, which was really nice… they also did the Jewish mother thing. “You know I have a daughter,” one woman said. “Actually, I have two,” she smiled, “they’re twins. You’d like them.” It was… cool?

On our second day in Akko we met a group called Sikkuy, and I’m telling you, this organization screwed themselves bigtime. The guy who runs the program, whoever he is, apparently travels throughout America to raise money, telling people about what they do… how they’re an organization committed to opening the lines of communication between Arab-Israelis and Jewish-Israelis, how they believe in equal rights for equal citizens in the State of Israel, how they believe the future of both the Israeli people and the Palestinian people relies on understanding and communication and tolerance. It’s actually really well pitched.

But the guy who runs the program, whoever he is… he wasn’t there. Instead, we were meeting with 6 people who do the work on the ground. And apparently these people didn’t get the memo, because what their mission consists of is lobbying for Arab rights in Israel. Period. When you ask them, as I did, and as we did several times, what they do to facilitate communication between Jews and Arabs, they dodge the question because there is no answer;- that’s not what they do. And they scream Discrimination! because “Arab” cities’ infrastructures are much worse than “jewish” cities’ infrastructures, but they neglect to tell you that Arab city governments are notably more corrupt, not because they’re arab but because these cities that they’re talking about have track records of withholding government money for personal use. They scream Discrimination!  because Israel talks about just syphoning off their land and shuffling it into Palestinian authority… but when you call them Arab-Israelis, they’re offended, because, as one woman put it, “I am not Israeli. I am palestinian. You stole my land. Hatikva is not my anthem. That flag is not my flag. I shouldn’t have to pay taxes to that government.” These people believe it is discrimination if Israel says, “You don’t want to give anything to this state, why should we offer you the privileges of being a full citizen of the democratic state of Israel?”

A Beautiful View of Akko

I’m all for peace here. Truly. I don’t believe there’s a solution that’s not a two state solution, and I understand why Palestinians feel persecuted out here, and in a way, they’re right: this was their land, it was “taken” from them, I understand their sentiment. But I understand it to a point. And the truth is, racism and discrimination are different things. Jews in Israel don’t like Palestinians, but discrimination connotes the withholding of rights and privileges that people rightfully deserve, and I have a hard time believing that people who openly support the demise of Israel, who refuse to contribute to society, and who play the eternal victim rightfully deserve any more rights and privileges than the bare basics. It’s not as though they’re being punished, they’re just not being rewarded, and if they want the rewards they should do something to merit receiving them. Above all, I think it’s a double-standard to say “I don’t recognize the state of Israel, but it should recognize me.”

More importantly, they shouldn’t be selling themselves as something they’re not. Come to the US and tell people, we believe Arabs in Israel are being persecuted and deserve more privileges, and we don’t think they should be asked for any kind of contribution to society in order to receive the full glorious set of privileges afforded to Jewish citizens. They’d be able to raise money. But it is conniving and inappropriate to sell yourself as an organization whose primary purpose is fostering understanding between communities when your real purpose is to accept the lack of understanding, cherish the divide, and say “Jews will be Jews and Palestinians will be Palestinians, Palestinians in Israel shouldn’t have to appreciate or respect Jews or the state of Israel in order to be respected themselves.” And I think it’s gross. But I guess that’s just me.

An Underground Hospital Wing

We drove near Haifa and visited a hospital that really amazed me. They have essentially two hospitals on the grounds, one regular hospital and one duplicate hospital underground, connected by a maze of underground roads and hallways and wings. They explained to us that they have multi-million dollar AC rooms that can syphon off air if there’s a dirty bomb, how they built second roofs on wings in order to protect important equipment from the shelling, and how their state medical program allows them to require doctors to participate in drills moving the hospital above ground to below ground. Just imagine how much excellent medical care they could provide to people if they didn’t have to worry about spending millions upon millions to fortify the hospital and prepare it to withstand attack.

But they can’t. Do you know why? Because instead of targeting military bases, Hezbollah in Lebanon makes a point of targeting civilian hospitals and power plants. Like I said before, I’m all for peace and equality, and I know that Israel is armed to the teeth too. But Israel is armed to defend itself, and you will never, ever hear about Israel targeting Palestinian schools, hospitals, or homes. 

On our way back the next day, we stopped in Haifa to get a good look at town and at the Ba’hai Gardens, one of the holiest sites for the Ba’hai faith. Ba’hais are all about precision, about order and clean, and you can see it in the gardens. It was gorgeous, I’ll post more pictures on the Pictures page.

We also went to a children’s home in Netanya called Beit Elizraki, and it rocked my world. This thing would never work in the US unless somebody incredibly, incredibly wealthy decided it was his mission to make it work… so maybe when I’m a rockstar. This guy Yehuda runs the home, taking in kids who have either been abandoned or who live in dysfunctional family situations (verbal or physical abuse, drugs, sexual abuse, alcohol, or just neglect). It’s a home for over 200 kids, all of whom claim Yehuda as their legal guardian. 

He takes them to their first day of school, he sees them off when they start their time in the military, he helps them pay for college, he gives the girls away at their weddings. They take the young girls to the mall a couple times a year to let them shop for their own clothes. They have one tutor for every few kids, tutors who come in each afternoon to help students excel, and their students are some of the smartest and most motivated kids in the region. And it’s all for the goal of breaking the cycle; Yehuda’s dream comes true each time a child grows up, starts a family of his or her own, and raises kids without requiring the services of Beit Elizraki. I mean truly incredible. If you’re looking for a place to send your money… send it here.

In Tel-Aviv, we went to dinner as a group at the port one night and on our own the next. Ayala came to dinner with us both times, so Mom and Mike got a chance to get to know her a little. My hebrew still requires a lot of savlanut (patience) from Ayala, but it’s good enough now that we have what she calls “Safa Sudat,” or “Secret Language.” That’s a great thing about hebrew… with spanish, you can kind of get a feel for when someone’s making fun of you or talking about you, because things sound somewhat similar. Not Hebrew though, my friends. It’s like having real-life soliloquy, being able to offer an aside without anyone hearing or listening. It was fun, although I still feel a little bad about the fender-bender Ayala got herself into coming to pick us up from the hotel. Everyone was ok… but poor girl got slammed trying to cross into the sheraton driveway.

Went to Jerusalem a little later in the week. I upgraded my ring… I wear a silver ring on my left thumb, got it when I was here in December to remind me of this place, and I was pleased to get a better ring with no mention of god on it (the old one had a prayer, and lord knows I’m not really the religious type). It was actually the ring that made me realize that I’m too skinny; it’s not very secure on my finger right now, but it’s the same size as the old one… then I noticed my pants weren’t staying on, like more than usual, and that only about 17 girls per day bat their eyes at me, which is way down from my normal average of 53.5. That’s how I came to the conclusion I need to get back to good.

On Tuesday, I went with my mom and a busload of American jews to Sderot. Sderot’s in the paper a lot because it’s so close to Gaza. It seems the horrible pondscum waste-of-space crooks in Gaza can’t afford the good stuff that occasionally meanders into Gaza from Iran, so you know what they do? They saw off about four feet of water pipe, stuff the bottom with fertilizer, fill the main chamber with nails, glass, ball-bearings, and anything else that can puncture the skin. They attach fins that they make out of scrap metal and stuff a fuse in the bottom in order to ignite the fertilizer. Then they close the lid, aim it in the general direction of town, and fire.

That’s why Sderot’s well known: homemade missiles don’t fly far, and the community center is 900 yards from the border.

When the Red Alert siren sounds, citizens in Sderot know that they have 12-15 seconds, if they’re lucky, to get to shelter.

About a week and a half ago, Israeli intelligence indicated that the Palestinians were digging a tunnel from Gaza to the ground beneath a military base near Sderot. The objective was to get under the base so that militants could abduct Israeli soldiers. When Israel learned this, they saw it as a breach of the ceasefire agreement, and conducted a military operation, killing at least one important Hamas militant in Gaza. In response to what Hamas called an “unprovoked breach of the ceasefire agreement,” over 60 rockets hit southwest Israel last friday, 17 of which landed in towns or Kibbutzim. It stayed noisy Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and apparently Tuesday night right after we left, too.

We visited the police station in Sderot, where they hold on to all of the Qassam Rockets, Mortars, and shells that land in the area. Apparently there used to be thousands stockpiled there, but after President-elect Obama visited the site during the campaign, there was a mad dash by Israelis in the area to grab the old scrap metal as memorabilia, which I thought was kind of strange. Apparently what I’ve got in this picture is just a fraction of what they have. And they say they can tell which terrorist group sent the rocket by looking at the shape of the fins, cause every terrorist group has different fashion sense. They’re like high school cliques. Basically.

Some of Monday's New Arrivals

Finally, on Mom’s last day here, we walked around Tel-Aviv. It was lovely. In the evening, we sat on the beach and I got mom to try Hookah. It was funny. Emily, you’d have really enjoyed yourself.

I really enjoyed having them here. I was really lonely the day after they left, cause it dawned on me that seeing them was the first time I’d seen familiar faces in over 3 months. It’s like this Third Eye Blind EP, Red Star… It’s been so long since I’ve heard new music from these guys, and I’ve been sad without them, and hearing 3 new songs was so exciting!! But then the initial excitement wears off, and all I can think about is how badly I want a whole album of new music. I miss them now more than I did before the EP came out. Ughhhhhh.

But just for the record, “Non-Dairy Creamer” is good music and horribly tacky lyrics, “Why Can’t You Be” is fine but Stephan sounds super-flamboyant in the beginning, and “Red Star” is reminiscent of their second LP, Blue, and it rocks my world.

So now we’re up to date. The devil’s beating his wife in Israel (the sun is shining but it’s raining… i know some of you don’t know that expression, I don’t want to sound like a nut), I’ve got a refrigerator full of good food, and I’m planning to see a movie with Ayala tonight. I’m going to make these last 6 weeks fantastic, and I’m excited both for the time I have left and for my return to real life. I hope everyone has a great weekend, and we’ll talk soonsies!

Man I’m so sorry i havent posted

For those of you that actually read this blog… big sorries all around. I have no excuses… I just haven’t posted in a while, and a lot has happened here and there and I’ve just ignored it.

Anyway, let’s pick up where we left off.

Tuesday before last, I grabbed some pizza, bought two bottles of wine, and settled into my bedroom to watch the results come in. I got to enjoy the big night with Luisa and Kelsey on the video chat (I couldn’t have watched it alone), and was pretty dead drunk by the time it was clear that there was truly no chance Sarah Palin could become president in the next four years.

It was 6 in the morning when Senator Obama walked out on stage for the first time as President-Elect Obama, and I might have shed a tear or two. And then I might have shed another tear or two later. And, um, I may have spent all day wednesday crying off and on. In my defense, I was really tired from staying up all night, and stuff. But truly, I can’t find the words. I’m still searching. And let’s all just hope he’s great.

I missed class the next day, but when I came in on Thursday, my teacher had saved a copy of the international NYTimes for me. I also bought an Israeli paper… it has a picture of Obama and says, “יש לו חלום”, or “He Has a Dream,” which i thought was cool.

Leno’s on tv here. The guy who plays drums for Gym Class Heroes looks like a 40 year old lesbian.

Mom got into Israel on Monday a week ago tomorrow. I promise I’ll write a long entry about my travels with her and her group over the last few days ASAP… but I’m tired, so I’m gonna bail. Hope you’re all greatsies.

West Wing, Bobby, Recount, and Wag the Dog

If anyone’s more excited than I am about this huge event in American history, it’s the Israeli media. In the papers, magazines, on cable television, America Bocheret! is the theme of the week. While i sit and watch and wait, I thought I’d tell yall about my new class.

My new teacher’s name is Shosh. She talks really fast, and gets mad when people don’t do their homework. I wasn’t the smartest person in my class on Monday, and that, in and of itself, is a feat… but I have to tell you, I learned more in 30 minutes in there than I have in 3 weeks in the other class. Seriously, it’s great. I’m very happy in there and I’m getting smarter.

That being said, I’m still far from knowing hebrew. I hung out with Ayala today, finally, and as cool as it is to get to know her in her native tongue, her tolerance of my inability is a testament to her patience. I’m great in hebrew with strangers, and i’m great with waiters, but with people I know, I realize just how bad I still am.

Though I’m starting to think my hebrew may be about to overtake my spanish. So that’s cool.

So I’ve got my wine, my pita, my obama t-shirt, and my tv. Hard to believe the Bush era will officially hit it’s 5:56 in a couple hours… but I’m ready. Catch yall on the other side.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Howdy folks.

So I realized towards the end of last week that I wasn’t feeling as challenged in my classes as I used to feel, and that maybe it was time for me to parachute into another, more advanced class. I figured I’d circumvent my teacher and just go through the system… sometimes I get the feeling she really doesn’t have any idea who’s decent and who’s not, seeing as we don’t turn in any work and she’s not grading anything. I think it’s probably hard to gauge who’s ahead and who’s behind when you’re not measuring performance, and I had a feeling that if I went through her she would say I wasn’t ready and I needed to stick it out.

I got to Ulpan early today to talk to the principal to get me moved, but apparently she comes in after lessons begin. So I figured I’d talk to her at the break. After the first half of class, my teacher pulled me aside and told me I really ought to consider moving up. So, that’s cool.

What’s really cool though is how naturally we had the conversation about me moving up. My hebrew is different now… it’s much more instinctive. And when I went and talked to the principal, told her that Esther recommended I advance, we had our discussion in hebrew. And this wasn’t “can I please have a coffee and a piece of pie?” kind of conversation. This was me saying to her, “I really enjoy the lessons, and I love our teacher, but i feel like the pace of the class is a bit slow for me. It was great when I first began, but I study so hard every day and night, I’m progressing much faster than the other students.” I didn’t even really have to think about what i was saying.

It’s such a cool feeling to just have it flying out of your mouth like that.

I’m a little conflicted. On the one hand, this class should be a lot harder and a lot more interesting. Plus, I’ll get to meet new people and have a new teacher (i used to like my teacher until i realized just how much time she wastes in class as she walks around and checks each individual paper for the 3 sentences we each wrote… it’s a time suck while the rest of us are just chillin), and it will force me to hit the books harder, as recently I havent really had any schoolwork to do, so I just do whatever I want to learn (though it seems that’s working pretty well). On the other hand, this class only meets Monday-Wednesday, so I lose one day a week. It seems counterproductive to me that in order to learn more you have to go to school less…

Still haven’t seen Ayala, but we’ve talked a few times and I should see her sometime in the next few days. On Halloween, a holiday whose Christian origins inevitably relegate its festivities to the American Embassy, the bar next door, and university dorm rooms, I went over to my friend Josh’s place for a party. Josh is in a program that places recent college grads in professional internships and houses them in a dorm-like apartment building. He’s been here since May, and will be here til February. I think I’m going to meet up with him tonight to watch some NFL, probably at Mike’s Place (the American bar next to the Embassy).

The party was on his complex’s roof. There were probably about 30 some-odd people there, people were all dressed up. One girl was Charlie Chaplain (also, she hadn’t seen The Office from the night before, when Pam wore that exact costume…crazy), two girls put foil cups on their heads and said they were hookahs, and in true American college-Halloween fashion, one girl wore a buttondown shirt and no pants and said she wanted to make some risky business with someone. It was… an American night.

I haven’t been around that many english speakers since I left America. And they were very american… like, we went to a bar on the beach (Bryan, it was that weird one with the hookahs, outside with the little orange triangle things, the place they had a party for just Birthright kids when we were here and it was super lame?) and they ordered like idiots. Absolutely none of them could speak a lick of hebrew, they were pushy and loud and drunk and stupid, and the waiter hated all of us… it was just like Birthright, actually.

So tomorrow I’m going to try the other class, Kita Bet. I ran into my friend Ofer on the way home today (he works at the Hayarkon48, the hostel that was my home throughout September) and we had a nice conversation, he said he’ll be surprised if Bet isn’t too easy too, that he’d put me at at least a Gimel level. He also said, “אתה לא הגעת לישראל בסוף הקיץ?” which is “Didn’t you get here at the end of summer?” and i laughed and he gave me a “Kol HaKavod!” which is the un-dorky way to say “Way to Go!”

I’magonna take a nap now. Tough break on that game, Pop… hell of a shootout though. SC played a similar nail-biter…Beat the Bears!

Last thing, and I know you’re all sick of my prostheletizing, but my nerves are shot and i’m freaking out big time. I know everyone has already decided who they’re going to vote for, and anyone who says they’re undecided is lying, and is probably either racist and not voting Obama or afraid they’ll seem racist for not wanting to vote Obama, which is pretty much the reason i’m so on-edge. I know he’s no savior, and frankly he probably won’t save the world, and there are a lot of Obamaniacs who would tell you otherwise. But this election is so important to me really for two reasons: (1) i think this is a once in a million opportunity to elect someone that the world can identify with, someone who represents the unity of our nation and the diversity that makes us so uniquely qualified to lead the world into the uncertain future, and (2) the idea of someone with as short a fuse and as unpredictable a behavioral pattern holding the keys to our nuclear arsenal and deciding when to send young men and women into battle horrifies me. Obama is a thinker, and it’s about time we had someone in the white house who really considered all of the options, exhausted absolutely all avenues of diplomacy, before committing young men and women to die for this country.

So I know I’m not changing anyone’s mind about anything, but please do me this favor: do not forget to vote. Do not choose to stay home. Even if you’re voting for Papa Smurf, I don’t care… this is too important, you need to go vote this week. I have no qualms about admitting that either outcome will lead to an inevitable sobfest for me out here in Israel, as I’ll either mourn a loss and dread the future or weep in the revelation that there really is hope that our country is evolving, celebrate the notion that we may indeed be headed in a positive direction, toward a light that is greater than ourselves.

I cannot wait for this g-d election to be over. But until wednesday, I’m going to be nervous and shaky and sleepless. I hope everyone’s happy and healthy and safe, I’ll post again soon:)