The New Jew

Somewhere along the line I read that Israel was supposed to give birth to a phenomenon called "The New Jew:" That is, a Jew different from the anti-semitic Western Diaspora stereotype who cringed and spent his life indoors either studying Torah or counting money. In contrast, early Zionist posters showed muscular tanned guys who were fighters for independence by day and kibbutz farmers by night. Or perhaps it was fighters in winter and farmers in summer. In any case, you get the idea.

When I made aliyah almost 21 years ago from the USA, I had to invent my own Jewish history, because my family were American Assimilationists. Not that that isn't a form of Jewish history, but it doesn't usually lead to migration to Israel, unless one is trying to escape The Law, which I wasn't.

Armed with every kind of education except Jewish and Hebrew, I tackled the new project with all my old tools: analysis, thoroughness - one could say obsessiveness - earnestness, responsibility, independence, determination, sincerity, seriousness, etc. etc. I avoided the company of other olim so as not to be discouraged by their complaints.

Surprisingly (to me) what worked in The Old Country didn't work so well here, and I succumbed to the inevitable culture shock. I didn't find work or learn Hebrew as quickly as expected, and started to get discouraged. Then, at a moment of extreme desperation, I had a brainstorm that went something like this:

This place is really, really Different, so of course nothing will work as expected. The way to master it is to do everything the opposite way from what worked Before!

I began to apply this principle as follows:

1) I was getting very stressed by mail. From the start I got a few letters in Hebrew, and I couldn't read them. Because Independence was one of my values, I was loathe to ask for help in translating, so I came up with my own resolution of the problem: throw away any personal printed letter that doesn't have numbers in it, without bothering to try to figure out what it says. If it has a number in it, go to the Post Office and pay the bill. This policy has worked so well that it continues to this day. (In case you're thinking of taking advantage , be warned that I can now recognize the logos of the Electric Company, the Phone Company, and the Tax Authority, so don't try any funny business!)

2) Ulpan was getting me down. Having learned fluent French in my youth, I had assumed a talent for languages. The assumption failed to take into account the gradual deterioration of the language-learning parts of my brain, and left me stunned and frustrated. To cope with this, I modified the first part of my brainstorm as follows:

Both you and this place are really, really Different, so of course nothing will work as expected. My conclusion was the same, though: The way to master it is to do everything the opposite way from what worked Before!

In this case, my application was: stop trying to learn Hebrew for a year, take drawing lessons instead. In the interim, I did find work that required minimal Hebrew, and have continued the art lessons on and off. The results have been pure fun for me, and endless entertainment for taxi drivers who ask (sometimes in Hebrew, sometimes in English), "How long have you been in Israel?," to which I reply, in Hebrew, "Too long!"

In the process, I realized that my adaptability was in fact not new at all, just the old Jew surviving in modern dress. As Shavuout approaches, I'll spend it avoiding the Tel Aviv sun and studying my copy of James L. Kugel's How to Read the Bible (in English).

Plus ça change, plus ça reste la même chose.

Night Games on Rothschild Boulevard

Every evening, even before Rothschild Boulevard got "upscaled" with plantings, benches, pavements, and bike lanes, people have gathered to play bolles or bocce or whatever it's called in your country, and I see them doing it on my evening dog walk (top photo). The bright lights were added as part of the "upscaling," which I think happened when Tel Aviv -The White City - became a UNESCO heritage site a few years ago, but people used to play by ordinary streetlights enhanced by car headlights. I am always reminded of my youthful visits to Washington Square in New York's Greenwich Village, where certain corners were reserved for Italian guys playing this same game. I also remember seeing the game played in the Basque region and various other villages in the Pyrenees. I think there were even tournaments in Connecticut. Last October, while waiting to pick up Mermaid Girl after school, I even spied a group of men and women playing in Confederation Park in Burnaby, BC. (lower photo)

So much cozier and more environmentally friendly than golf...

Fun and Games on Rothschild Blvd.

I didn't have my camera with me, so I can only describe what I saw this morning: a large group - at least 30 - of mostly white-haired people clustered together, walking slowly up Rothschild Blvd., as I took Shuki for her morning, walk at 2PM. Aha, I thought. A swarm of tourists.

Now I got to indulge in one of my favorite games: guess what country the tourists are from, based on their appearance alone. Living in a UNESCO World Heritage site gives me plenty of opportunity to indulge, and I've become a bit of a tourist-connaisseur. But this group was challenging: their walk and dress was too square to be Israeli or Russian. They were too tall and fit to be Italians. Too quiet to be Americans, and besides, American women wear sunhats and and American men wear baseball caps. in this group, only the men were wearing hats, no baseball caps. French? Not stylish enough. Scandinavians? They were wearing mostly solid colors, and I had a feeling, possibly because of Marimekko memories, that the Scandinavian women would sport tops with a bit more color.

Shuki and I managed to approach the group slowly and look nonchalant while I listened to their language: German. Their leader did not use a megaphone or a microphone, so they had to stand close to him to listen to his spiel. I know enough German to know it when I hear it, but not enough to understand what he was saying. I've encountered German skin-patient tourists in Israel before, in planeloads at the Dead Sea for (their) government-sponsored psoriasis cures; I've encountered German Christian tourists in groups at the various plentiful Christian holy places like Jerusalem and Tiberias. I've encountered individual German tourists in Tel Aviv, but never before an organized group of well-heeled retirees.

Once again I get to think how the world has changed during my lifetime.

Three Little Maids From School

Three Little Maids From School
Originally uploaded by savtadotty

[I miss Gilbert and Sullivan!]

Well, not exactly maids, more like three grandmas...we're waiting for class to start, outside the Alma Institute in Tel Aviv.

The subject was "Racism and Anti-Semitism," and I learned a lot about history. For example, anti-semitism is a particular example of racism, and racism started in the nineteenth century as a way to justify colonialism. The racism geni was let out of the bottle, so although genetic science and Barack Obama have shown that "race" is technically a meaningless category, racism persists even among its victims.

Before the 19th century, there was plenty of anti-Judaism, but it was based on religion (e.g. the Spanish Inquisition) or culture (the ghettos), not "race," which hadn't been invented yet. The difference, although it may seem like hairsplitting, was that a person could choose to convert or assimilate into the mainstream religion or culture, but not to change his/her "race."

Now I have to work on forgiving the British as well as the Germans. Was I better off before the lecture?

Shabbat at last!

Doggie Porn
Originally uploaded by savtadotty

As if my dog didn't have a minute's rest all week long? Well she's almost 16 years old and has finally taught me to bury her treats in blankets or under pillows for her to dig up, so she deserves a comfortable retirement. She probably thinks I'm a very slow learner and handicapped by my missing tail.

Which is true.

Independence Day, 2009

Patriotic Dorothy
Originally uploaded by LisaG in Tel Aviv

The annual Israel Independence Day barbecue was very successful. I achieved new heights in patriotism, and this even without the aid of beer or wine.