The Last Few Days

So, a few days since I've posted. Happy to say, by and large they have all been pretty good.

Let's start with Wednesday. Went to visit Toby's school (our contact, "Rachel" -- we still don't know her last name -- who seems to be the office administrator, has the day off on Thursdays, so...). And I can say this: it was much better than I expected. Although what I expected was that I'd see the school, be so depressed that I 'd have to figure out how I was going to homeschool Toby AND get my research done. The school itself, Yehuda ha-Levi, was actually not bad, and Rachel was absolutely wonderful. It seems Toby will be in a rather large kita bet, but that there are something like 20 other English-speaking children. I would guess that among them there are several bi-lingual (meaning, they'll be speaking Hebrew), but the odds look good that he'll have someone to talk to.

On Thursday, we were honored to attend the bar mitzvah of Rafi Abraham at the Sephardi synagogue in Yemin Moshe. It was great...the shul was very interesting, and the meal was excellent -- held at the Begin center a few meters away from Yemin Moshe.

Since we were near(er), we decided to finally take the trip to the Old City. A moving experience...mostly the experience of trying to move Beruria in her agula down the narrow alleys of the suk (just so you know: no ramps), with her in rather a sour mood. Toby was priceless: the Old City was his image of what all of Jerusalem looked like; he was so excited. We went down to the Jewish Quarter, and it was pretty much as I remembered it...crowded, fascinating...with one massive change: the Hurva synagogue. I am actually amazed that the building has been reconstructed. My last memory is of the rubble and single reconstructed arch. It is an impressive building; and I'll leave it at that.

Went to the Kotel (de rigour, of course). Toby and I caught mincha with a Sephardi minyan there, which pretty much put a damper on Toby's enthusiasm (it was much longer than he was accustomed to), but I found it really...elevating. The truth is, I never quite know how to feel at the Kotel. But I guess that's ok.

Had a coffee at the massive new mall built just below the Jaffa Gate. Talk about bizarre. And don't even get me started on the almost incomprehensible fact that a big chunk of the plaza seemed to have been underwritten by BMW. I have no idea where to go with that. But the coffee was good.

Ok...getting late. To be continued...

Jerusalem Ups and Downs

J'lem, day one. We had (have) so much we need to get done, and it's not getting done, but I guess we are entitled to one day to acclimate. We didn't actually manage to get out of the flat until about 11, and thought that we'd walk from here (Katamon, Bilu 12, for those just tuning in) via King David Street (so that we'd pass by Yemin Moshe and give Toby his first good view of the Old City), and on to Ben Yehuda street. The idea was, we'd be able to get a good falafel (we remembered a good stand on Ben Yehuda, but now I'm less convinced...I think the falafel at Hebrew U. was cheaper and just as good).

So, we walked, and walked, and walked, taking a coffee break periodically. Toby was a trooper, and Bru kept falling asleep in her stroller (which was probably a good thing, as she'd had a hard time sleeping the night before). Happily, the windmill was still there, and Yemin Moshe was as beautiful as ever. To think that when the colony was originally built, its residents only pretended to live there when Montefiore checked up on their progress and to collect their allowance...but I digress.

On Ben Yehuda street, I had the encounter I'd been dreading since I knew I'd be returning to Israel. Kara and I were looking at a map, trying to strategize the best way to get back home.

[Note to self: don't be so stupid as to open a map on Ben Yehuda street.]

As we're looking and discussing, suddenly I notice a man has taken an interest in us. He butts in to our conversation, asking us where we're trying to go. I look up, and immediately know it's bad. He's wearing a big bright blue Magen David baseball cap, a t-shirt covered with the slogan NO DIVIDING JERUSALEM, its collar covered in pins of the city seal, and he's holding a clipboard.

Now, my usual reaction to just about anyone who approaches me carrying a clipboard is to try and find an escape as quickly as possible. But I hope this time, naively, that he genuinely just wants to help (even though we don't need help, but never mind). "Where are you from?" he asks, and I just really don't want to say New York, because I know that's where he's from. "New York," I mumble. "Oh, from Long Island?" Ugh. "No, Westchester." "Oh, Westchester!" Blah blah something about New York blah blah.

Then, "OK, you picked a good map! Where are you trying to go?" Kara, ever the friendlier of our zug, answers "Do you know if this [points to blob of red in Talpiot, which we think was a mall we wanted to go out to to take care of some necessities] is the [name of mall]?" "Oh, you don't want to go there, you want to go to [name of some tourist trap shopping center near the King David]. You can't miss that. It's great! [More platitudes about said tourist trap.]"

OK, so our conversation with this gentleman is done so far as I'm concerned. But then it happens: POLITICS. I knew it would. It was inevitable...no one ever carries a clipboard for no reason.

"Now that I've helped you out, you can do me the small favor of signing this petition" he turns over clipboard to reveal a list of names and addresses of other people he's accosted, "telling Obama that we will never allow Jerusalem to be divided?" He really spits out the name, as though he could barely manage saying it.

My reply, accompanied by a grimace, was "I'm sorry, no, I'm not going to sign your petition," and then mumbling something about not wanting to put my name on anything political because of my position, etc. I mean, really, whether I agree with him or not (and, for many reasons, I do think that Jerusalem will not ultimately be divided), it is the height of chutzpah for him to make demands based on his presumptions about me. Truth be told, I didn't want to sign, no matter what it said.

His response was predictably indignant. "Do you understand at all what the importance of this is?"

This, dear reader, is perhaps the one question he could ask that would REALLY make me mad.

"Yes, I understand very well, thank you. And I'm not going to sign your petition."

And yet he keeps coming. "Why don't you explain to me, then, what this is about."

Sufficed to say, after this point, there was really nothing else going to happen in this discussion, save me ending it as soon as I possibly could through whatever means, short of signing his stupid paper.

I've been kicking myself for hours now with all of the things I SHOULD have said in response to this, and here's the best one I've come up with: "No, I don't think I will, because I don't owe you an explanation for anything I say or do. You intruded, unasked, on a private conversation, offered information that is less than useless to us, make 100 different presumptions about us based upon our dress and demeanor [I was wearing, I should mention, my usual black kippah srugah, Kara her hair covered as always, and a skirt], and then presume to demand my signature. You don't know anything about me, my ideals, my opinions, or anything else. To you, I'm just another American sap, so overwhelmed by the magic of being in Jerusalem, that any two bit schmuck like you can just walk up, take us by the hand, and tell us how it REALLY IS over here, and how we should just listen with rapt attention to all your TERRIFIC knowledge about what is quite possibly the most intractable, complex and painful political and spiritual issue that I, as a Jew, as a human being, and (at least for the next year) as a resident of this city, could possibly face. So no, I won't sign, nor will I explain myself to the likes of you. And now you can do me and my wife and my beautiful and increasingly impatient children a favor, and fuck off."

In the immortal words of comedian Steven Wright, that's what I should have said.

Dear readers, here is where I must apologize if what I've said offends, for I need all of the readers I can get. But here is how I see it: I think we all are entitled to our opinions on this and all of the wrenching issues faced by Israel today. They are none of them easy. We should discuss them. We should argue about them. We should be anguished about them.

But just don't assume that we all believe the same thing, nor that we should accept having the demand put upon us to defend our dearest opinions to any random person who feels inclined to butt in and shove a paper in our face. Because we don't and shouldn't.

At any rate, it will be a while before I open a map on Ben Yehuda street.

I promise the next post will be happier!

Last days in London

Well, we had a lovely stay in London (thanks Stef, Ashley and Paige). I admit I was not thrilled to be leaving, mostly because I had a fairly good sense that the going would be a bit harder in points south. After all, no cozy flat in Kew to welcome us, no pub downstairs to slake my thirst....

Before that, though, I should mention one of the highlights of the trip, and that was our visit to the V&A museum. Strangely, although having been to London a number of times and living in England for the better part of a year, I'd never been. And I really have missed out! The building itself is fascinating; the exterior done in a grand monumental Edwardian style, and then, quite surprisingly, one enters the courtyard through some of the galleries to find a fantastic renaissance revival garden, complete with some of the most beautifully overdone columns (image left, although you can't quite make out the intricate friezes on the columns).

Inside the V&A, as is my late interest, I had a look at the Asian art, and found some very lovely examples of buddhas and bodhisattvas from China, Japan and South Asia.

Oh...I forgot to mention the most outstanding part of the building, the "refreshment rooms," which are in fact part of the much expanded cafe, and which were designed by William Morris in brilliant early Arts & Crafts style. I"ll have to post a pic or two if I can figure out how to get this blog template to post more than one image.

(This just in: Toby, who is having some trouble sleeping in our new digs, just drew a picture -- Stef, you guys will want to pay attention to this -- the caption reads: "Mom and dad OK: walking in the hous....Me sad --- I miss London." On the left panel under the first caption is a pic of Kara and I, and on the right, Toby and Beruria laying in bed, with Toby up looking sad. I think he's a bit tired.)

Alright; more about our arrival tomorrow.

Arrived in London

We arrived in London last night after a fairly painless flight...five and a half hours, and Beruria only flipped out for the last 1/2 hour so. Quite an improvement over our last long flight!

Saying that, I do have to note one thing: even though we really did keep to ourselves quite successfully for the entire flight (and for a family of four with two children under 10, I think we behaved ourselves quite well...even me, which is saying something), this woman behind us gave me a major stink eye when I took the kids to the bathroom. What's up with that?

Right. Staying with Stef, Ashley and Paige in their lovely flat in Kew, where they have graciously put all of us up in their living room (or, as I found out, "front" room -- although I do seem to recall hearing my grandmother call her living room a front room, but nevermind).

On a sad note, I've been in London for nearly 24 hours and have not had a single pint. Not one. Hopefully this will be remedied soon...there is a pub literally within 15 feet of the front door of the flat...(Update: Ashely just brought me a half pint of Leffe. Ahhhhhh. Many thanks!)

Spent the day with our friends from Seattle long ago, Nic and Simon. It was delightful...especially Toby taking marching lessons from Jonah (the oldest) whose military parading prowess was remarkable (see video).

Saw the changing of the guard (or at least parts), and on to Trafalgar Square for sandwiches and pigeons.

After seeing a Simpsons episode last week, Toby was determined to visit Westminster Abbey (it was the one where Homer becomes a helicopter parent and builds a crappy balsa wood model of the Abbey)...anyway, so we shlepped down to Westminster. For some reason, I was compelled to pay the 15 pounds to go in (just Toby and I), and that was perhaps a mistake, as I think that the inside creeped Toby out (with good reason: I had forgotten just how many dead bodies there are in that place).

I have to hand it to them, though: as we were walking through, I in my kippah and Toby in his Mets cap, we were stopped at one point by a young gent -- do they call them deacons? -- who was wearing a robe...obviously working there. He was about to ask Toby to take off his cap, and then stopped -- and noticing my yarmulke, said "Oh...is that for his religion?" or something of the sort, and when I politely said yes, he apologized, and said no problem. I have to acknowledge that kindness on his part. I've certainly been in situations where such politeness was not extended. Way to go, England!

Alright...a clip and a pic and more to come.

Coming soon: A Year in Israel

Hello to my two readers:

As you may or may not know, Toby and I will be spending the next year in Israel (academic year, at least). Kara and Beruria will be joining us off and on during the year.

Stay tuned for our travel posts...Toby will be posting, too, as well as Kara (and Berur, if we can get her to).

Jess