Quality Entertainment

Once, a friend of mine revealed to me an indisputable truth: when you're abroad, you'll watch anything that comes on TV - as long as it's in English. Though I must to concur, allow me to expand a bit. I'm not talking about vacation here. I mean when you're overseas for a period of time - when you're immersed in another language and culture. It seems some internal mechanism increases your tolerance for ridiculousness, so long as it's from a familiar culture or language. A few examples:


I watched way more of this movie than I'd like to admit. Yes, that's Willie Nelson in the background there, playing Uncle Jessie. Oh Willie, you wrote "Crazy." How low you've sunk. Let's continue...












Synopsis: Chris Farley and the effeminate guy from friends are pioneers in the American frontier. Hilarity ensues. I lost 5 IQ points with this one.





























Last and indeed least we have Kazaam. "This film misses more than Shaq at the free throw line." The reviewer continues, "Everything about this film is simply horrid, and I can't fathom it would find an audience anywhere." He obviously wasn't thinking about expat Americans flipping around at 2 in the morning.














Two questions arise here. First: Why is this crap on Israeli TV every night? For this I have no guess, though and can tell you it's giving foreigners a warped sense of American culture. The world already thinks we Yanks are a bit dull, and Shaq-Fu over here isn't really helping.
Second is why? Why am I able to watch the stupendously vacuous output of Hollywood where normally I can't tolerate one second of it? Perhaps it's the mind numbing effect. Living in a new language is a real challenge to the brain. All interactions require extra effort. By the time the evening comes around, you're ready to just pull the plug on mental activity. That's where John Goodman dressed as Santa comes in. Oh! and did you know that Kid 'n Play made a movie? Behold Israel - The High Top Fade!

Porcupine Slippers

I received my Teudot Zehut or National ID card a few days after landing in Israel (don't worry, I chopped out any identifying info). It was a proud moment for me. After 2,000 years of exile, the children of Israel were again a free people in their homeland. I was honored to represent my lineage in the land of Jewish sovereignty. Yet little did I realize that my marker of Israeli identity, though seemingly official, was less than complete. It seems that one indicator of my national status was still missing.

That was until I received a gift.

Yes, these indoor shoes are the real mark of a new immigrant in Israel. Called Na’alei Kipi נעלי קיפי, these outwardly ridiculous, yet surprisingly useful and comfy slippers now complete my absorption into Eretz Yisrael. In fact, when I first wore them, three different people said to me "Oh, now you're really Israeli!"

Allow me to make a few assumptions as to explain the popularity of this item. First, Israelis have yet to discover insulation. Though my concrete box of an apartment could withstand a rather powerful blast, it is quite bad at regulating temperatures. This, coupled with the slate flooring (sand a rugs don’t mix) makes for chilly foot conditions. So goes my hypothesis on my new footgear - but where does the name come from? Glad you asked.




This horrifying creature is call Kipi Ben Kipod קיפי בן קיפוד or Kipi son of Porcupine, and I’m told he is a popular character on Israeli Sesame Street – Rehov Sumsum רחוב סומסום. Have a look these pictures and notice that he (apparently it’s a male) wears this style of slipper.

Also notice that this is the scariest thing you've ever seen on Sesame Street.

See the look of shock and fear on this young man’s face as he stares, paralyzed with fear into its soulless eyes.

Even Israel’s Oscar the Grouch winces, wide-eyed with terror, under the looming shadow of this ghastly figure.


So why did the creators of Rehov Sumsum choose such an appalling beast to teach kids about squares and the number 8? Perhaps to traumatize them early, so as to toughen them up for later in life. Most of these kids are going to serve in the army. We can’t have the defenders of the country running around, scared of their own machine guns. This is Israel after all. Not a day goes by without somebody trying to kill us. No time for sissies – and that goes for the girls too!

In all seriousness, Israeli Sesame Street does try awfully hard to teach the children well. There are always segments about making peace, respecting other cultures and embracing differences. Israel’s Arab population is represented and characters are always viewed in the positive spirit of egalitarianism. Jim Henson would be proud. It's also pretty funny. Here is a clip that I’ve translated into English and added subtitles to. Sorry for the crude, no-budget quality. Freeware.



So what’s going on in Hamas’ Gaza…













What’s that Mustafa Mouse, Jews are the sons of pigs?













72 little Minnies, just waiting up there for him.

Booze and Don't

Being new a new immigrant in Israel, I have a lot of free time. I’m often making all kinds of cultural observations that would be good to write about. Problem is, most of these are made on the bus and I forget what they are. So until I get a notebook I figured I’d write about a subject close to my heart – one I feel comfortable writing about. Something sure to get the creative juices flowing.

If you ever come to Israel, you should acquaint yourself with the local beer. There are two notable mass-produced Israeli beers. These are Goldstar גולדסטאר and Maccabiבירה מכבי . Both are pale lagers at 4.9% abv (wikipedia), but the two beers are quite different in taste. Maccabi is the real Zionist beer – mostly cause of the name. I picture Judah Maccabi reclaiming the Temple and then cracking open a pounder. It’s gold in color and light in taste. There’s nothing really wrong with Maccabi – it’s just your average yellow beer.

Goldstar is what I would call an amber lager(not a pilsener), though the bottle says Dark Lager Beer. It’s best from the tap. It has a smooth creamy texture – almost like from a hand-drawn tap. The flavor is subtle; a little sweet, a little spicy and a mild finish. In short, if you find yourself in a bar in Israel, drink lots of Goldstar. It’s a very tasty beer, and certified kosher of course.

But not all beer in Israel is what it appears to be…

Have a look at this.

Looks like beer, right? It’s with all the other beer in the grocery store. It’s listed with all the other beers on a menu. Has to be beer. Well it’s not. Israelis call it Malt מאלט and I still can find a purpose for its existence on the planet. It’s brown, thick, sweet and without any alcohol. And it’s posing as a perfectly normal beer. I would say it’s children’s beer, but that’s what Maccabi’s for.

Anyway, steer clear of this stuff. And be extra careful of the diet version. Yes, diet non-alcoholic beer.

I guess you take the good with the bad in a new country so now I’ll close with one of my favorites. Arak ארק is a clear, colorless, unsweetened aniseed-flavored distilled alcoholic drink, produced and consumed in the Eastern Mediterranean countries, Syria, Lebanon, Israel, Iraq, and Jordan. Thanks Wikipedia. It’s kind of like Sambuca but not as thick. If you get a bottle of Ouzo, that’s pretty close. In Israel, Elite Arak is 40% abv and Arak Aluf (champion arak) is 50%.

This is how I prepare it.

Notice the change in color from clear to milky-white.

Like so many things in the Middle East, arak is meant to be enjoyed slowly. Sit in the warm sun or cool shade, sip on a cold glass of arak and stare out at the sea. It’s something all the people of the region can agree on. Of course, most of the neighboring population is Muslim and forbidden to drink alcohol – There’s a devil in every berry of the grape (The Qu’ran) Oh well, more for me. Le’chaim!

הנגבה

Much like Abraham, soon after entering this land I headed south. See Genesis XII:9
.וַיִּסַּע אַבְרָם, הָלוֹךְ וְנָסוֹעַ הַנֶּגְבָּה

And Abram journeyed, going on still toward the South. In the Hebrew it’s written Negba or toward the Negev.
Unlike our forefather however, I didn’t have to pretend that my wife was my sister for fear of death at the hands of Pharos’ henchmen. Of course, I didn’t get any oxen, he-asses or maid-servants out of the deal either. When I entered the former land of Canaan I just got 1250 NIS (new Israeli Shekels) cash, a little book and a bunch of papers that identified me as an Oleh Chadash (new immigrant), and a free taxi ride to anywhere in the country. This is what is given to all new immigrants at the airport. Not as good as Abraham’s lot, but not to bad.
After trying out my new Hebrew signature several dozen times on many documents, we gathered our bags and found our ground transport. Our taxi driver’s name was Shalom and he was great. Between him and Carolina, there was lively banter all the way to Mitzpe Ramon – all in Hebrew of course. I was pleased with my level of comprehension. I still don’t understand everything though, which gives me a good excuse for spacing out while others are talking – something I very much like to do especially after a long flight.
Shalom had bought drinks for the trip and refused to let us pay, saying he was happy to buy something for young people like us returning to Israel. We saw pictures of his grandkids and exchanged stories of global travels. After three hours or so, we arrived at Mitzpe at my in-laws home. Our driver came up to the apartment and was offered not just coffee and a bathroom but was invited to stay for dinner. We insisted he didn’t help anymore with the six 50lb bags we were schlepping. He rested for a bit, drank his coffee, wished us luck then hit the road. This is a very different type of cab driver/rider relationship than one would find in the states. That’s Israel. There is still a sense of solidarity between the people – that we’re all in it together, one family fighting the same fight.

So Avram got his camels and whatnot and I got my cash and paperwork. For all that these things differ, the landscapes we saw on our trips were at times identical. I love southern Israel. For many it’s the forgotten area: Bedouins, camels, sand, crappy little depressed town. Many tourists never make their way Negba. I think they’re missing a lot.
The south is the most biblical place for me. It’s where I feel most connected to the Patriarchs and Matriarchs and to how they may have lived. It’s quiet. The kind of quiet where the slow wind is the only sound. A place so quite that God might chose it to speak to someone - and where someone might have a chance of hearing. The days are hot and sunny; the nights are cool, dark and starry. In Mitzpe Ramon, which is situated on the edge of a naturally formed crater, you can walk five minutes out of town in any direction and feel like you’re on another planet. Living in the Negev, one senses his place in the natural surroundings. It’s inescapable. Every time you step outside you see that the wilderness is vast and that you are small.

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Ya’elim (Ibix) that have come to far into town. A mother stopped her van and made her kids chase them back toward the crater. A typical scene in Mitzpe.



Taken just outside of town. Not exactly professional footage I realize, but it does give you a feel for the land and the crater.

Alpaca '08

A few days ago, Israel held municipal elections. Jerusalem gets all the attention but it was also a big deal here in Mitzpe Ramon. The ruling family has been in power for years and managed to squeak out a narrow victory of just a few votes - between 17 and 40 depending who you talk to. The current mayor is the sister of Amir Peretz (former minster of defence) and her husband is the former mayor. The husband was forced out of office after it came to light that he illegally held two government positions simultaneously, or so I've been told.

Most everyone I spoke with was against the current mayor. However, there were a lot of people joyfully beeping their horns a one o'clock in the morning after the final vote count.

This picture of Peretz, which was the first one to pop up when I searched google, was taken during the war with Lebanon. I don't think I would vote for his sister either.

It was good to see the alpacas and llamas were involved in the election process. Every group needs representation.

First Post

...לֶךְ-לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ Go forth from your land, from your birth place and from your father's house to the land that I shall show you...

So said God to Abraham in the parsha Lech Lecha which was the weekly reading for Shabbat on November 8th, 2008. Coincidentally, I left the United States on the 9th to make Aliyah to the land of Israel.

View of the Machtesh from Mitzpe Ramon