8/30/09 Telegraph Ave: The Phenomenauts

The Phenomenauts played a free show at a street fair in Berkeley. There was nothing remarkable about this performance whatsoever. One noteworthy event occurred: the skinny and blonde merch girl threw a drunk. There were free iced tea samples at the merch table, and a bum come up and started dumping them out. I’m sure they tried to get him to stop nicely, but he was pretty wasted. This stick of a woman grabbed the dude by his shirt, pushed him through the audience, and gave him a shove on the other side of the street. I have no idea who this lady is, but any band which has such a badass merch girl deserves some respect.
= science and honor =

Confessions of a Fan Girl pt. 1— History and Why The Matches are Great

The Matches played music together for over 10 years. They released 3 albums on an indie label, cultivated thousands of desperately loyal fans, and toured the world. But they began as our very own local boys.

Before they were The Matches, The Locals built up a fan base by a technique they developed called Commotion Promotion. Commo-Promo involved playing acoustic guitars and singing outside of venues as shows ended and ambitious flyering missions. What started as a high school band in 1997, The Locals had built the L3- Live Loud Local scene at iMusicast in Oakland, CA. The Locals—in collaboration with the other East Bay Allstar bands Solemite and The K.G.B.—would put on L3 shows at least monthly. These bands, which all had impressive fan bases, would play with less well-known local bands, thereby promoting them and exposing their fans to other local music.

In 2002 The Locals faced a lawsuit by Chicago-based band Yvonne Doll and The Locals. They chose the new moniker The Matches. Rumor had it that the name was a reference to The Clash. I had not yet seen The Locals, but I swore I would never call them by their new name.

The Matches released their debut album E. Von Dahl Killed The Locals in 2003, and were soon courted by major labels. The Matches were different than The Locals; they were more grown up. They abandoned ska. But a lot of things remained the same. They still stayed after their shows to talk to their fans. Their songs were still manic and danceable. They still put on Hell3, the annual Halloween L3. They didn’t play at all of them, but they still happened.

In 2004 they signed to Epitaph Records and re-released E. Von Dahl. Solemite and The K.G.B. folded, and The Matches were left as the main local band, though many of their fans were disillusioned when they signed a record deal. They played the last show at iMusicast in 2005, a Hell3.

Decomposer came out in 2006, and it was a huge change from E. Von Dahl. Nine producers worked on the album, and it showed. The 2008 release A Band in Hope was another drastic departure from their earlier work. Their bassist left later that year, and he was replaced. They announced a hiatus in 2009, and played their last show to a sold-out crowd at The Fillmore in San Francisco, where they used to serve nachos when they were in high school.

These are the bare facts of what used to be The Matches. I can explain all that to people, but for some reason it doesn’t convey why I am a die-hard fan. There are a few key components which made their fans so passionate. Perhaps they will give you some insight into the world of a fan girl. Band boy- fan girl relations, self-deprecating songs, and loyalty are three of the major factors that kept me a fan.

All concert goers between the ages of 12 and 21 are enamored with band boys. They always know where they are in a room. They also know all sorts of sensitive personal information about them, some of it real. And they pray their favorite band boys remember who they are. The Matches don’t remember all of their fans, nor did they go to prom with any of them; but they did turn them down like gentlemen. The Matches almost always came out into the crowd after their shows. They talked to flirtatious 15 year olds. They signed countless Chucks. Adolescent girls would literally line up to talk to frontman Shawn Harris, and he would talk to every one of them, gotdangit. Shawn used to get into the mosh pit with us at iMusicast! And they walked the very narrow line of being close with their fans, but not too close. I can tell you a few shocking stories of band boy - fan girl relationships, but the Matches really kept it to a minimum, especially in their later years. I really respect that. They put in all the effort into talking with their retarded ass fans and did not exercise their right to tap that.

I didn’t create many Matches fans. I really can’t expect anyone to like them based on their albums. You had to see their live shows! I wrote my college essay on them, and I got into colleges with it, thankyouverymuch. There are a few aspects of their songs that I think other can appreciate, even if they dislike the genre that The Matches get thrown into. (I don’t want to say what it is, I get so embarrassed!)

The Matches don’t have any dumb love songs. There are no songs about “take me back,” “you’re so beautiful,” or “I just want to be with you.” The one song they have with “love” in the title is about Shawn hoping his ex has found out second hand that he’s seeing someone else: “tangled in taxis with another/ hope you heard!”

One of my core values is self-deprecation. If you can’t laugh at yourself, I’ll do it for you! The Matches don’t brag or whine. They mostly just make fun of themselves. They make fun of their pathetic lives: “since all my candles fit on one cake/ took from my folks all the advantage I could take/ repaid them with a wave;” “aching in my head/ I’m banking in the red/ and compulsively charging CD’s to my account …now it’s too late in the day for a matinee/ and I ain’t got the money to pay for you anyway/ what should I say?” “I’m a mark for their marketing plans/ I’m Americancer/ a MySpace romancer.”
And they make fun of their failed attempts at romance: “She said I’ll fall asleep before I fall in love/ your stories bore me, boy, let’s make something up right now/ she pressed inside my shirt then gave me a shove/ said ‘what do you really know?’… will you like me?... I get a laugh/ but I’m not joking/ you think I’m joking;” “My Doe is a little bit psycho/ but she look alright with the lights low;” “Come now, what’s your name again? I’m not implying come morning I’ll need to know/ but you never know.”

Self-deprecation is tied in importance with loyalty in my book. The Matches reference their shows and fans! “Our handstamps fade/ and I cringe at the stupid names we’re called…sweating in the dark we’re freed as the weight of the week disappears with a thud…every weekend we are massing/seeking sonic escape…we bleed audio blood!” “When you belong to a song, you belong;” “Mother would trip if she saw the way that girl wears her clothes/ to the L3 shows.”

The Matches always came home. No matter where they went, they always came back to Oakland and played for us. From time to time they would play secret shows that just their alert fans would know about. Things like that really meant a lot to us. While some fans felt betrayed when they signed with Epitaph and started touring more (with the WORST bands,) they never had a home other than Oakland.

Not only were the Matches great to their fans off stage, but on stage as well. They would sprinkle us with water when it got hot, sometimes giving their bottles to particularly dehydrated fans. The crowd would always rush the stage at the start of the set, and the Matches would make sure the people in the front row didn’t get too squished. That’s really considerate! Not all bands do that! I think my favorite moment was at an ‘acousticast’ (acoustic iMusicast) show that they were added to at the last minute where Shawn sat on the floor in the middle of the pit and sang with us.

Right before their last show, The Matches released a 10-song album online which lacked a coherent title. I’m sure part of the reason they released it was to make money, but I also know they did it because their fans wanted the new songs. They could have just called it quits, but they gave their fans everything they could before it was all over.

One of the L3ers started meowing during the humming part in Track 11, and it stuck. After years of this—we could tell it annoyed them—they literally stopped the set to ask us to not meow. They had everyone meow one last time, and then that was it… except that we kept meowing when they started up the song again! They didn’t play Track 11 much, so I can’t tell you how many more chances we had to mess up their song. But at their last show, they let us meow! I know that sounds trivial, but it meant a lot. It meant they would miss us.

I have damn good reasons for loving The Matches, but maybe “you had to be there.” Whether or not you care for their music is irrelevant. The Matches are a hard-working, loyal, and talented band. So many things made them a great band that the fact that I liked their songs was just icing on the cake. There is something about The Matches that just clicks inside of each of their fans.

Ideology vs. Practicality in Gaza and Sderot

When Israel unilaterally withdrew from the Gaza Strip in 2005, I supported it. All 9000 Jews were removed (some forcibly) from their homes. Greenhouses, synagogues, gas stations, anything that was owned by Jews or Israel was dismantled. Gazans destroyed much of what was left behind. The Jews used the media to promote their causes, and it was terrible to watch them weep as they were removed from their homes and put on buses. And it was terrible to see the young soldiers execute their cruel orders. I supported it because I felt that the Palestinians have a right to their own state in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. The peace process had been stalled for years while the intifada was going on, and I felt that this was one giant step towards peace. There were no negotiations, no deals, just Israel handing over the land to the Palestinians.

One year later Hamas won the Palestinian elections, and a year after that Hamas expelled all Fatah members from the Strip. This coup by a terrorist group (Israel was already not thrilled that Hamas was in the government) led to an international boycott of the Strip. This boycott prompted Hamas to increase their rocket fire into Israel. (The rockets began in 2001, but were frequent starting in 2004.) So for a number of years, Israeli citizens were subject to indiscriminate rocket fire. About 15 Israelis were killed, many wounded, and many more suffer Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Additionally, many Palestinians were killed in Gaza as a result of weapons that detonated early or that fell short, and Israeli assaults on the Strip on account of the rockets.

I visited the town of Sderot, which has received a majority of the rockets. I have described it as being my own living nightmare. I also visited the town where the Gaza Jews were relocated. Their pain is still fresh, and they live in very small bungalows with their large families.

That day I realized what an all-around intolerable situation it was: Gaza Jews are removed by their own government, Israelis near Gaza suffer rocket attacks, and Gazans are trapped in what has been described as an “open sewer.” That day I changed my mind about the withdrawal. It had caused great pain for thousands of Jews, and brought no rewards to Israel. The Gazans as well don’t seem to have benefited much from the loss of the Jews (though perhaps they gained some dignity for having their land free of occupation.) I don’t think this could have been predicted in 2005, though.

I don’t know if the Jews should have stayed in Gaza or not, or if Israel should have done something about Hamas being in the government, or if the blockade is useful. What I do know is that we’ve come to a problem of ideology versus practicality. The Jews were removed for reasons of ideology, as if the act itself would usher in some divine series of events which would lead to peace. Gaza is blockaded because of ideology, and rockets are fired for ideology. None of these things have gained anything positive for anyone. But what about reality? What about the Gazans who suffer from the blockade and because their leaders refuse to renounce violence? What about the settlers who long to return to their old homes? What about the residents of Sderot who spend their days in fear? This is not normal for anyone!

When faced with this dilemma of ideology versus practicality, I side with practicality. The settlers, Gazans, and Israelis near Gaza all suffer because of ideology. I wish that Jews could live wherever they wanted. When Gaza becomes part of the State of Palestine—which we all know by now that it will—it would be up to the government of Palestine whether to give citizenship to its Jewish residents, and it would be up to the settlers to decide whether they want to live in an Arab country. Perhaps they could live there as Israelis living abroad. If the Jews were still there, I doubt Israel would blockade it. There has to be a reasonable balance between ideology and practicality. It is good to be guided by a set of ideals, but sometimes the time isn’t ripe for them to be enacted. For some ideas there will never be a ripe time. I think a Palestinian state free of Jews is a fine idea, but would make a horrible reality.

This conflict between ideology and practicality has played out again and again in the Middle East. It has led to endless conflict, and is an excuse to slow everything down. Clearly, doing things according to ideology doesn’t work, and neither does citing practicality as an excuse for not moving forward. Israel and Palestine’s leaders need to step up to the plate and get this resolved in a moderate and just way. I will not go into what that way is, but most Israelis and Palestinians know what it will look like.

Cultural Learnings 12.0 (Israel Here & There)

The Palestinain-Israeli conflict has been going on since before Israel’s creation in 1948, and has claimed thousands of lives. It appears to be what we would call “intractable.” But the Conflict itself takes on new, contradictory meaning when you’re in Israel. It becomes both more real and important, and less real and important.

When you’re there, things fall into place. Everything you learned regarding the Conflict begins to make sense. Violence is no longer a 30-second bit on the news, but rather possibly sitting next to you on the bus. You can see how tiny the land is, how traumatizing it is to evict people, how communities work.

But it also loses all its meaning. As much as people fight passionately for their side of the Conflict, you don’t see much of that in Israel. You learn to ride the bus without getting off whenever an Arab with a duffle bag gets on. Jews and Arabs interact in a completely mundane way—together on the bus, at the grocery store, at the ATM. As much effort as we in America put into arguing, that doesn’t really happen over there. In Israel people are concerned with their health, their kids, work; you know, normal things. I’d forgotten about that over here.

Understanding Israelis and Palestinians also helps to make sense of the Conflict. Israelis are a very paranoid people, sometimes for good reason. They don’t trust the Arab leadership, but neither do the Arabs! Israelis always assume someone is trying to screw them over. If there is a space in the lane next to you, you cut in. If you don’t, someone else will. There are no lines; rather, whoever wiggles their way to the counter gets helped first. If you’re not pushing, you obviously aren’t trying too hard to get what you want. Ironically, there is no concept of “I was here first.” Israelis are in everyone’s business. They ask fat women when they’re due (regardless of pregnancy status,) they want to know where you got those shoes, and “Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Why not? I have a cousin you should meet,” is a common third sentence among people who have just met. That’s just how they are.

And this explains some of the Conflict. Imagine negotiating with someone who thinks you’re trying to screw them over. Israel is the most progressive country in the Middle East, but there will always be a conservative undercurrent. It is a country of ideologues, where everyone has an opinion which is indisputably correct. And if you want someone else to listen to your damn opinion, you’d better yell. If you listen politely, it means you don’t have anything to say. If you’re not arguing, you must be agreeing. Even if you’re agreeing, you still have to yell!

You have to be aggressive to survive a day in Israel. You have to demand what you want. You have to shout, you have to push. You might even forget that it’s not like that everywhere. In some places it’s ok to just listen. In some places you will be helped in the order in which you arrived, without any exertion on your part. And that’s why the Conflict looks different when you’re here or there. Here if someone’s shouting it means they’re serious; there it just means you have to shout back to make them listen.

In Israel there is a party for every opinion. Everyone wants their concerns voiced. It’s not like that in the rest of the world. Sometimes you have to “compromise.” There is a way of getting what you want out of an Israeli, you just have to act like one. But is Palestinian culture so different after all these years that they don’t know how to get what they want from each other? I dunno! Shit’s intractable, remember?

I didn’t meet many Palestinians in Israel. I lived in East Jerusalem with many Arab neighborhoods close by. I interacted with Arabs on the street, on the bus, and in restaurants, but I never talked to any about politics. No one talks about politics. I heard a few lectures on my program, but the fact that someone was being paid to talk about politics in Israel is already suspicious. From things I’ve learned, I think Palestinians are holding on to things that they need to let go—they’re not going to get all that they’re asking for now. They need to focus on what they can get out of negotiations.

When I’m in California, the Conflict is all-consuming. Everyone freaks out about everything Netenyahu does. After all, he is the leader of the only Jewish state in the world. But in Israel, he’s just another big-mouthed politician; no one takes him seriously. In Israel I felt free to criticize Israeli policies. Things are so polarized here that I feel like since the Other Side won’t admit any wrong, that I can’t admit any wrong. In Israel I didn’t have a voice—I’m not a citizen and I can barely speak Hebrew anyway, who cares what I think? But here I represent world Jewry. My Side can’t be divided, so I have to go along with everyone else even when I don’t agree.

If you don’t understand Israeli culture, you can’t understand the Conflict. Will understanding the Conflict solve it? Probably not. At this point, I don’t even know if being in Israel helps or hurts your understanding. What I’m trying to say is, sometimes you have to be IN the Conflict in order to live outside of it.

Israel: FML! part 2

News sources are supposed to be “fair and balanced,” to quote a media conglomerate that is neither. The news should be free of bias. There are guiding principles of journalism which ensure fair coverage. But what happens when a newspaper is biased? What happens when it quotes its own staff? Nothing! People still read it! This is what happens at al-Jazeera English (AJE).

Many of the articles found on al-Jazeera English (http://english.aljazeera.net) seem fair and informative. It often runs articles which focus on more international situations, rather than domestic or regional issues. Some of AJE’s practices, however, are less than newsworthy. There are two main methods to which I object: quoting your own staff, and being ridiculous about Israel.

AJE quotes its own staff. An article will lack a by-line, and then quote the al-Jazeera correspondent in that area. Many articles follow the format of an initial presentation of the facts, followed by a quote from either an “al-Jazeera correspondent" or someone else. Here is a quote from a recent article about the Fatah conference in Bethlehem:

Al Jazeera's Nour Odeh, reporting from outside the conference centre in the West Bank town, said Abbas' words were an attempt to appeal to a movement divided over how it should proceed.
"The kind of heritage that Fatah carries is based on the fact that it led armed resistance. It would have been very difficult to conceive of Mahmoud Abbas disowning that legacy," she said.
"The division in Fatah is not only generational, it is also about the tactics of the movement - where it must move forward, how it must deal with Hamas and the division, and how it must deal with Israel."

And here is another one, about Honduras’ ousted leader:

Mariana Sanchez, Al Jazeera's correspondent in Mexico City said: "Mexico is considered the big brother of Central America so it is very important for Zelaya to come here and get the support of Calderon.
"Zelaya is launching what he has called a diplomatic crusade. He needs the presidents of Latin American to continue voicing their support. He intends to go to Brazil in the next few days another very important country."

Neither of these correspondents is saying anything particularly inflammatory, but it still raises concerns that a newspaper would quote its own people.

My second main concern with AJE is its negative portrayal of Israel. Some news sources may be more pro-Palestine than pro-Israel, but AJE goes beyond the pale. I have never read an article supporting Israel in any way, or one that criticizes Palestinians or their leadership. Is it possible that Israel has never done anything good in the past year that I’ve been reading AJE? Is it possible that the Palestinians have not made a single mistake? In addition to being one-sided, AJE enjoys criticizing American politics (don’t we all!), especially as pertains to Jews.

In one alarming article, AJE reports on how the “Israel lobby” caused Charles Freeman to rescind his candidacy for a US intelligence post. Worse than quoting their own staff, AJE quotes some shmuck from The Daily Beast blog. Here’s his quote:

Max Blumenthal, a blogger and journalist for the Daily Beast website who has been following Freeman's nomination process, told Al Jazeera that his withdrawal was "a catastrophic defeat for the Obama administration".
"What happened is the Israel lobby won," he said.
"What [Freeman] said that I think is most remarkable in his statement, is that apparently the Obama administration will not be able to dictate its own Mideast policy and he places the blame for this squarely on the Israel lobby."

Blumenthal said that the Israel lobby had "been furiously emailing sympathetic reporters, smearing him [Freeman] in public" and that "political decisions came into play with respect to [Freeman's] views on Israel and essentially his appointment was torpedoed".

This was the Israel lobby's "first all-out fusillade and they succeeded because they knew that Freeman would be dispensable to political elements in the White House that needed to court the Israel lobby, needed their money for senate races", he said.

Crazy, right? It’s as if a murky group of Jews got together and had some sort of –I don’t know—conspiracy! Nowhere in the article (which you should read, if you read any of the links) does it name anyone or any organizations which might be part of this “Israel lobby.” And in case you don’t see where I’m going with this, let me spell it out for you: accusing Jews of evil conspiracies is an old form of anti-Semitism which started with the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a forged “historical” document supposedly detailing a Jewish plot to take over the world.

Another article presents one Palestinian man’s amateur collection of Holocaust pictures as a museum. The so-called curator is called an “academic,” though no titles or information about his education are mentioned. Images of the Holocaust are juxtaposed with Palestinian suffering, and others suggest that Israel was created as a direct result of the Holocaust. One picture in the museum includes the caption “Make your final account with Hitler and the Nazi Germans, not with the Palestinians." This is an ignorant and outrageous statement to make: Hitler died in the 40’s, the Nazi party is banned in many places, and Germany and Israel have a warm diplomatic and economic relationship. The museum claims Palestinians are “paying” for the Holocaust. Presenting the Holocaust in such a way is a fraudulent and misleading account, and it cannot serve to enlighten or educate in an accurate way. Arab countries promote ignorance about the Holocaust, and many have never heard of it or think it was fabricated or exaggerated. I don’t think any countries deny or fail to acknowledge the suffering of Palestinians (especially at the hands of Israel,) though many Palestinians feel their plight is not sufficiently recognized. It is inappropriate and ignorant to merge the two situations without extensive context. In short, this Holocaust museum will not inspire tolerance. It also claims that Israelis visit the museum, but Israelis are not allowed into the West Bank.

The article—which meets no journalistic standards—about Israeli PM Netenyahu’s speech acknowledging the need for a Palestinian state was so inflammatory that I will have to exercise extreme restraint in not repeating it in its entirety. Here are six quotes, from each of the six sections, with their given subject:

In the tradition of victorious colonialists, Netanyahu's vision for the future emanates from a self-entitlement to rewrite history and to determine the fate of his defeated subjects.

Revisionist history
In other words, the presence of Palestinians in their lands is portrayed as an accident of history – thus annulling in one speech their history and stripping them of their legal, let alone their national, rights.

‘Jewish homeland’
Asking the Arabs and the Palestinians to recognise that Israel is the historic "Jewish homeland" is paramount to demanding that the Arab, Muslim and Palestinians themselves recant their own history, roots and identity.

Palestinian state
His demand for a "demilitarised state" is thus a logical demand, for how else can Netanyahu and Israel and its future leaders ensure the total subordination of future Palestinian generations who will be borne into a perpetual prison in the guise of statehood?

Breakdown of spirit
Netanyahu is after a moral and psychological breakdown of the Palestinian spirit. Breaking the spirit of a nation is not achieved solely through depriving Palestinians of the right to resist or of their right to self-defence, but by forcing the Palestinians to relinquish their memory.

‘Simple truth’
Netanyahu's narrative, long propagated by the Israeli right wing and extremist Zionists, is that the establishment of Israel was an exercise of the right of the Jewish people to their natural homeland - Israel bears no responsibility for the Palestinian refugees and finally there was never a problem of dispossession and occupation.

AJE’s complete rejection of Netenyahu’s speech is nothing short of tragic. Instead of appreciating Netenyahu making a bold step (for him,) AJE condemns Netenyahu, slams Israel, and dismisses the entire way negotiations work. His speech was not meant as a final offer, but as a first step towards peace. He had refused to acknowledge the need for two states for weeks, and this was the first time he admitted it. Without this speech, any kind of negotiations would be impossible. You don’t have to like everything he said, but you can’t deny how important it was for him to recognize the need for a Palestinian state.

In the next article that I will tear to shreds, AJE’s Jerusalem correspondent Jacky Rowland describes how Israel is manipulating history itself. It claims that Israel is using antiquities to redefine history in favor of the Jews (a Jewish plot??) Additionally, the same people who run one of the sites (supposedly) also buy land in Silwan, thereby “dispossessing” Palestinians (further evidence of a plot.) The article was listed in the commentary and analysis section, but it’s still offensive to anyone who is looking for legitimate reporting.

The Arab world is prone to believing conspiracy theories, and AJE (I don’t even want to know what the Arabic version is saying) capitalizes on that. It regularly refers to Israel as “Tel Aviv,” instead of by its capital Jerusalem. In addition to their blatant anti-Israel bias (try reading the series about the PLO—“History of a Revolution”), AJE simply fails multiple tests of journalism. And if this is what’s happening in English, what are they saying in Arabic? If articles about Israel lack credibility, what does that say about stories on other regions? My reaction to their stories on Israel ranges from disappointed to horrified.

Israel: FML! part 1

Israel was accused of many things during its 22-day war with Hamas militants in Gaza. Seven months after the fact, people still can’t agree on what actually happened—a common theme in Mid-East history. Even the disputed facts of what caused the war seem certain compared to how hazy the war looks. Israel attacked Hamas because they had been launching rockets into Israel, because they had blockaded the country, because Hamas had won the election and expelled Fatah. It’s all very simple! There is still a blockade, though Israel and Egypt send in aide daily. What Gazans want most now is construction materials like pipes and concrete, which Israel won’t allow for fear it will be made into weapons. (This fear is not without warrant—Hamas and Hezbollah have both used periods of calm to rearm themselves.)

I regret not citing a source for these, but during the war I kept a list of accusations against Israel. The first was that they used depleted uranium. This claim never went anywhere, and it’s totally ridiculous.

Next on my list is the use of white phosphorus, which proved to be true. White phosphorus is a chemical agent which creates a lot of smoke when it burns, and it is internationally allowed to be used for cover in open spaces. Unfortunately, there aren’t too many wide open spaces in Gaza, and some people were admitted to hospitals with burns suggesting a chemical agent. The IDF defended its use, saying it was using a legal substance in a legal manner.

Then there is the more general accusation of “war crimes.” Israel is a paranoid country, inhabited by paranoid people. When the UN asked to investigate the Gaza war, Israel denied them access to the Strip. The UN has a habit of passing resolutions against Israel, and there is a legitimate lack of trust on both sides. Ynet.com reported that “Berlin's Der Spiegel magazine reports that Palestinian Center for Human Rights in Gaza is trying to get hundreds of alleged war crimes claims heard in European courts.”

Amnesty International accused Israel and Hamas of war crimes.

In an Al Jazeera article which I regret not dating, IDF soldiers reportedly “laughed as they opened fire.” Israel has one of the most humane armies in the world. They do not benefit from civilian casualties, or even militant casualties because those are celebrated as “martyrs.” The IDF dropped thousands of leaflets and alerted residents through phone calls as to which areas they should avoid. Israel sent in troops on foot—at a risk to their own soldiers—so that they could avoid loss of Palestinian life. One doesn’t have to support the political motivations for the war, or Israel’s military tactics, but the IDF deserves credit for some of its actions. Furthermore, painting Jewish soldiers as evil, murdering monsters is an old form of anti-Semitism called the Blood-Libel.

Haaretz.com reported on January 31, 2009, that “A Brussles-based research group accused Israel of enlisting child soldiers,” and “use of underage Palestinians as informants and sometimes human shields.” Those are pretty serious accusations. It was unclear whether the alleged child soldiers were Palestinian or Israeli. Israel drafts most of its citizens when they turn 18. Arabs are not required to enlist, and Haredim can do community service instead. Army service is a rite of passage in Israeli society.

Human Rights Watch blasted Israel’s use of remote-piloted vehicles, saying their indiscriminate fire killed 87 people.

(Haaretz.com’s search engine is useless, and Jpost.com makes you pay for old articles. Rip off!)

So depleted uranium did not happen, white phosphorus did, war crimes have possibly been committed—although Israel doesn’t want to cooperate with groups it know will condemn it, and laughing while killing is just ridiculous. Israel released its own report on the war, which includes details about incidents in which Gazans were injured, and when UN cites were damaged. The report was widely dismissed. I’ve been reading it, and it actually sounds pretty reasonable. On the other hand, Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch condemned Israel for everything in their reports. Israel is facing a lot of criticism—more than when US soldiers kill Iraqi civilians, more than when Mexican drug gangs kill police, etc. People (especially in NorCal, it seems) have the impression that Israel is a worse human rights violator than China. Some of the criticism is valid, but some is outlandish. I’d say about half the claims against Israel proved to be false or exaggerated.

Of course, Israel wasn’t exactly perfect in the aftermath of Operation Cast Lead. Israelis are paranoid and defensive (often for good reason,) and that gave off the appearance that they had something to hide. However, I don’t want to see Israel doing more apologizing, and I don’t want it to give legitimacy to groups which really have no more credibility in Israel. I find it extremely alarming when so many groups rush to condemn Israel. Why isn’t anyone rushing to blame Hamas for what it let happen in its territory? I am left with serious questions about the media, which will bring me to my next post.

7/19/09 Bottom of the Hill: Judgement Day

Judgement Day always picks eclectic bands to play with, and no exception was made at Bottom of the Hill on July 19^th. Opening the show was The Definite Articles, who want to sound like The Decemberists. They have a cellist and two violinists, accompanied by a keyboard and drums. It was their first time playing in a venue as large at BoTH, and it showed. There was some awkward stage chatter and apologies, and the singer hasn’t really come into his own. I believe The Definite Articles will sound better with practice.

In between sets, a man who looked about 60 asked me to watch his stool. “I’m going to smoke a cigarette of marijuana,” he added, perhaps as an invitation. He was pleased that his stool had not been usurped in his absence. Oh, San Francisco.

The second band, Triclops!, seemed to please our stoned gentleman at first with their weird noises. Unfortunately, they soon devolved into screaming and crack-dancing. Crack-dancing is a form of dance which mimics the motions of a crack-head. It involves rotating the body like a robot, twitching the arms like an autistic person, and generally behaving as if heavily drugged. Mid-way through Triclops!, a fellow came up behind him and took his stool, which he had not sat on yet. A few minutes later he went to pull the stool out from under the bar and what the-- ! Gone?! His eyes popped out of their sockets and his eyebrows went clear past the top of his head. He turned his head around in such a fashion as to cause his neck to become twisted. His neck was stretched out by a foot after all his neck-craning. I pointed to the dastardly fellow who had committed the crime. The man pointed at him, then made a gesture of holding the stool under the bar, then shook his fist. The young rapscallion returned the missing item. Towards the end of the set our friend asked me if I liked the band. He said he didn’t like them very much. I was trying to avoid this man who lacked a full command of American personal space customs, and he picked up on it by commenting, ‘You’re very quiet, by the way.” Right.

I will admit that despite the fact that they sound horrible, Triclops! is made up of men in their 30’s, who seem to have a experience with being in a band. The lead vocalist even had some funny stage chatter. And I don’t say that lightly- he was legitimately funny. I have no desire to see them again, but I bet they’re great if you’re into “that kind of thing.”

Judgement Day has been around for 7 years (and I’ve been there since the beginning, I might brag.) It is comprised of two Patzner brothers who play violin and cello, and a drummer. Their songs are dark and morbid, and they tell stories. Anton on violin has toured with Bright Eyes and composed a movie score. Some serious stuff here! They have two acoustic CD’s, a full-length CD called Dark Opus, and a newly-released 7” vinyl. Don’t have a record player? Then you’re not cool enough to see Judgement Day.

Besides that they are totally bad ass, Judgement Day also has a talent for attracting a wide range of people to their shows. You’ll get anything from ugly-hair hipsters who rode in on fixie bikes to very large metal heads to small, nerdy Asians with long hair rocking out. Judgement Day can fit into any bill. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like them!

3/5/09 Jerusalem: The Idan Raichel Project

The Jewish Agency runs a scholarship organization called MASA which helps fund long-term programs in Israel, like the one I was on. Most, if not all, of the peole on Career Israel (around 100) received $1000-$3000 or more towards the program. There are dozens of long term Israel programs supported by MASA, with thousands of participants. MASA had the bright idea of trying its hand at hosting a concert with the most well-known Israeli band, The Idan Raichel Project.

The parking lot was full of tour buses, and foreign Jews were running all over Jerusalem (more than usual). At the time I described it as “a paradigm of a clusterfuck.” A few MASA executives spoke before IRP was brought on, and they were booed! I don’t care if you gave me $3000 to come to Israel, you’re keeping me from seeing a band!

The Idan Raichel Project is a musical group fronted by Idan Riachel. He gets credit for the work, but he is actually not that talented. He has three main singers- a white girl, an Ethiopian girl, and an Ethiopian boy. His songs are collaborations between many artists, and they often involve many types of instruments. Jews at American summer camps sing his songs in their bunks when they wake up.

This was one of the least impressive performances I have ever seen. Everything about the situation was wrong: the audience, the room, the performers themselves. Raichel mostly jammed out at his keyboard on the side of the stage while the singers held the spotlight. The Ethiopian singers do cool Ethiopian dances and sing in Amharic and Hebrew. There was no stage-audience interaction. It was difficult to hear over the constant screaming of the crowd. My favorite part of the show was watching young adults from all around the world mangle the unfamiliar Hebrew words in the songs. My Ulpan class had learned some songs, ironically on a day when Idan—we’re on a first name basis at this point—was spotted having lunch in our gay community center on King George Street, where he lives. As the night went on, people became bolder and moved to the front of the auditorium. I used to love passionate Jew dancing where everyone jumps around together, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. A lot of the MASA participants are 18 year olds on year courses, and I felt a little sick watching the shameless flirting between busty girls in sweat pants and pre-facial hair boys who have no chance of scoring.

For all the hype surrounded the Idan Raichel Project—at least among American Jews—I was wildly unimpressed. I had seen them in Santa Cruz, and they didn’t even stay around to talk to the 50 people who came to see them. I am completely panning this performance, but I will give props to the three other singers in the Project who held the music and the performance together. Would I see the Idan Raichel Project again? Yes. Will I make sure to be drunk? Yes.

Cultural Learnings 11.0

Things got a little hectic as my stay in Israel came to a close. I spent 6 nights in a row away from Jerusalem, then moved out of my apartment two days later.

11.1 The last few days of the school year lacked any kind of educational instruction. Students and faculty had both given up. On the second to last day the school provided tents in the play yard to provide shade. Perhaps some kind of activities were going on in there, but I doubt any teachers had the motivation for that. Sarah’s 4^th graders who I read with all made me the same cards. My English-speaking 5^th grader made me a card. Tali got one out of my four 5^th graders to make me a card. He drew a picture of the Grinch. Tali got me a Michal Negrin notepad. She left the receipt in the bag, and she forgot to have Sarah sign the card. Bye!

11.2 Career Israel had an epic closing seminar in Shefayim. We were given back the goals we had written down on the first day. My first goal was to unfriend at least 3 people on Facebook. I also wrote “I want to make out with at least 2 ppl. at least. srsly.” I shared with the group first. It seems that I was my old wild self at the beginning and end of the program, but for a few months I really couldn’t be bothered. The talent show was the best part of the seminar, because I won it. Well, co-won. The MC’s did a great job, and they put together a contest for Mr. and Ms. Career Israel 2009. The winners had to collect the most points through a number of trials including making a wedding dress out of toilet paper (my contestant won by dressing me), how many pieces of Bisli they could fit in their mouths, and how long they could say “ehhh.” It was brilliant! A vote was taken to determine superlatives. I was nominated for “Career Clown” along with the freakishly tan Jersey girl and a French girl. The Frenchie one! People told me that she’s really crazy and should be medicated. I was fairly offended. In addition to all that, there were also talents performed, but clearly mine was the best since I won. I read a tribute to an artist who sucks. The idea came to me while I was in the shower. It was the first time I’d ever done comedy like that, and it seemed to work. I got a lot of laughs and compliments. Go me! The boy who also won went to UCSC with me. He drummed. He’s good at that. We split our bottle of wine- I downed my half in 10 minutes. Then we had a dance party! The next day we went to a water park, and that was the end of it all. Some suckers still had work, though.

11.3 I didn’t go home after Shefayim. Lucky picked me up in Tel Aviv, and we went to her apartment in Haifa. I stayed there three nights. We visited the Baha’i garden briefly to look for souvenirs. Apparently Baha’i don’t sell souvenirs. I had asked my mom’s cousin if I could stay with him for three days after I have to move out of my apartment. He called me back to suggest that I stay with his ex-wife instead, and to notify me that his father had passed away. Conveniently, the funeral wouldn’t mess up any of my plans.

11.3 I had one very busy Sunday. I wanted to go to the other Baha’i garden in Akko, so Lucky took me there- partially to get really good humus. Akko is a mixed city, but some of the street signs lacked Arabic, which I thought was just rude. We had very tasty humus. The Baha’i garden there also didn’t sell souvenirs. Lucky decided to save me the trouble (and shekels) of taking a bus to Nahariyya, so she drove me. That was very helpful! From there I took a sheirut (shared cab) to Ma’alot, where I met up with a friend from elementary school who got married at 19 and has a toddler. The funeral was in the evening in Netanya. I took a sheirut back to Nahariyya, but then missed the train to Haifa. If only I had known that there are toilets in each car! By then I was running late, so Lucky offered to pack my suitcase for me and pick me up at the train station. Very useful! She drove me straight to the funeral. A tour bus of old people was just unloading. Apparently my uncle Jack had been very involved in his synagogue. He had stomach cancer, and he couldn’t bear to live without his late wife, who died last year. He was 92.

Baha'i garden in Akko

Ma'alot

I had never been to a Jewish funeral before. His body lay wrapped in a talit on a gurney. A young and awkward rabbi spoke, followed by my mom’s two cousins and a shul congregant. He was wheeled to the grave, and a few Orthodox fellows pulled him into the grave. They placed heavy stones across him, then allowed people to fill the grave with dirt. I felt sad for my grandma—Jack was her big brother. A number of people went to Jack’s house for evening prayers and food. A relative—who shares great-grandparents with me—drove me to Tel Aviv, where I met Lucky at Sub Kuch, a terrible Indian restaurant and guest house. I wasn’t in the mood for open mic. I slept at Lucky’s house in Ramat Efal, which is always amazing because they have things like central air and a dishwasher.

11.4 Lucky’s mom drove me to Tel Aviv, and I took a bus to Yafo. Yafo is one of my top two favorite places in Israel. It’s so damn cute, and the shuk there is the bomb. You can see all of Tel Aviv along the beach. I had my suitcase with me, so I found a youth hostel and left it there. They didn’t really care that I didn’t have a room. I met a friend from Santa Cruz, and we bought scarves from a man in the shuk. I had been there before, and I went back specifically to him because he only has scarves and tapestries, he’s not pushy, and his prices are good. He doesn’t speak English, but he didn’t know how to say “wide,” which was really helpful. My friend is very warm, so when the merchant’s wife came in, she asked her to teach her how to wrap a head scarf. She demonstrated on both of us. I ended up buying 9 scarves for my friends! Unfortunately my camera battery died, and I didn’t have enough money to buy a new one.

In the afternoon I visited an adult friend in Ra’anana. This woman is the step-mother of a boy from my elementary school, went to my shul, and helped me write my college essay. She also gave me my first full-time job babysitting when I was 18. I really like her! We had a lovely time, and her kids were so cute that I began to want to be a teacher again. Incidentally, her stepson—my classmate from elementary school, high school, Hebrew school, and college—called while I was there. He unfriended me on facebook a while ago. Awkward!

11.5 My last real adventure was going to Nachalat Binyamin, the bi-weekly artists’ market in Tel Aviv. I bought hamsot for my grandmothers. There was a lot of cool stuff I wish I could take. I got jahnun for the last time. Then I finally went back to crazy-ass Jerusalem.

11.6 I spent my last night in Jerusalem packing and cleaning alone. All of my housemates were gone. I was starting to freak out about how much I had to do and how I was going to do it when I got a facebook message notifying me that my favorite band is going on hiatus after their last two August shows. I have seen The Matches 37 times over the past 7 years. I love their music, I love them, and above all I love the community that has grown over the years. A number of popular local bands have folded over the past few years, and each time the scene lost something. The Matches are really the core of what’s left. Additionally, I don’t even have the money for a ticket. I was more upset about The Matches than I was about leaving Israel.

11.7 My mom’s cousin’s ex-wife—hereon called “aunt”—picked me up early Friday morning, but of course the CI madricha was nowhere to be found. There was still a lot of moving out to do, and only my slow housemate Justin was around. My aunt took over like a true executive and took whatever food and kitchenware CI wasn’t going to take. There were dishes in the apartment when we moved in, but the madricha wanted the kitchen emptied. I spent Shabbat with her and her daughter who was too sick to do anything. They live across the street from an Arab village. We heard hammering in the morning, and my aunt correctly predicted a wedding—fireworks included! My aunt had over her ex-sister-in-law and her daughter and her adorable family (who I met at Passover) for dinner. The power went out because the kum-kum was broken and sucking all the power. Israelis all have electric kettles which boil water in about one minute. Americans are really missing out on this appliance. Not only did she turn the power back on (not allowed on Shabbat,) but she experimented with the circuit breaker until she figured out what the bad appliance was. The two of us had very interesting discussions about politics and religion and gender.

11.8 Lucky picked me up from my aunt’s house in East Talpiot. We went to the Old City where we failed to find a hamsa in Portuguese for my house-cleaner. The first merchant we went to handed us a hamsa in Spanish when we asked for Portuguese. I said I also needed one in Spanish, and he said he only had Portuguese. Really?? Then he changed his mind and found one in Spanish, which was of course identical to the “Portuguese” one. We left. The rest of the merchants said that I would never find on in Portuguese. We got one that says Jerusalem for our house-cleaner, and one that has the blessing for the home in Spanish for a friend from shows who has Mexican heritage. I got a necklace with a small hamsa charm for a male friend. We made one last stop in the boonies to return my phone (and Justin’s, and his friend’s), and that was the last I saw of Jerusalem.

I went to open mic at Sub Kuch with Lucky. Her dad came, which was real cute. They sang a song together. I also sang “Oasis” by Amanda Palmer with her. Leah wanted to see me before I left, so she walked to Sub Kuch. We got Japanika one last time, then went back to Beit Leni with Lucky and her boyfriend. We sang “Oasis” again, which was well-received. We went home at 2, and we had to get up at 4:30 for my flight. Goodbye, Beit Leni.

Things I Miss

The Phenomenauts


Mexican food


my sister


Saturn Café


UCSC Chabad


Neary Lagoon


The Matches


ranch dressing


KALX


concerts


cereal


paychecks


free laundry


Planned Parenthood


my twin bed

In n Out


crunchy fries (these are from Saturn Cafe!)


frosting


Beetlejuice


[thanks to the Internet for most of the pictures. Eric Neuman for Phenomenauts. Hannah Ledeen for the Matches. Daniel Schein for concerts.]

Cultural Learnings 10.0

I went on three trips over the past two weeks, and each was more insane than the one before.

10.1 First I went to Petra. This involved: a bus downtown, a bus to Tel Aviv, buses from and to the bus station since I got berekas in the extra time, a 5-hour bus ride to Eilat, and a taxi ride to the border. We crossed the border easily and got brightly colored dinars. We then took a taxi to the bus station. (Note: the bus station is a parking lot.) I wanted to pee before the 2-hour bus ride from Aqaba to Petra, so I found the bathroom. Instead of a toilet or even a Porta-Potty, there was a room with a hole in the ground. The hole was surrounded by a porcelain cover with spots for one’s feet. There was a spigot and a pitcher with which one could rinse one’s feet and the ground. Gross. We waited an hour for our bus to leave. On the way to Petra I found myself being forced to consider whether I preferred plummeting off a cliff or dying in a fiery crash. The bus took us right to our hostel.

Our hostel was the best rated in Petra. Our host was very accommodating and did everything to make us comfortable, even driving us to and from the park. The room didn’t have air conditioning, and the toilet was so close to the wall that we had to sit sideways on the toilet. There was a map of Jordan in the lobby which didn’t name Israel. We spent the rest of the day walking through the park. It was really phenomenal. Five year old children approach tourists with necklaces and postcards. Bedouin men try to sell donkey, horse, and carriage rides. I got to see a lot of different types of Muslims, including a man and two women from Saudi Arabia. I couldn’t imagine stomping around in the sun with only my eyes exposed, if that. I ended up chatting with a Bedouin vendor for a while. He and his friends really wanted us to come to a tea ceremony. None of us wanted to (I was with four friends,) but some in my group had a difficult time saying no to people. We didn’t end up going and they totally called us out on it the next day (or at least the people who suggested they would come.)

One of my friends has a giant butt and colored hair, and she got a lot of attention. The Jordanian men would glance rather than stare, which I prefer. She seemed to be mostly oblivious to it. She’s a chatty girl who speaks heavily British-accented Iraqi Arabic, so she ended up scoring us some good deals. I think her accent endeared her to the many men we spoke to. However on the bus ride into Petra, the teenager behind her slipped his hand down the back of her shirt while she was sleeping. The kid’s father was there.

Surprisingly, I found Jordanian men really attractive. The Bedouin men wear eyeliner, and most of the police and other men I noticed has chiseled features. The border guard on the way back had super curly eyelashes. I haven’t been interested in Israeli men at all this whole time. Jordanian women wear much nicer clothes than Palestinian women. The robes were nicer, and modern dresses were also way cuter. I didn’t eat much, but I was not impressed with Jordanian food.

The second day we rode horses into the park. My scout said he is a teacher and he makes 200 dinar a month. That’s about $300. He asked how much teachers made in the US, and it pained me to see the wheels turning in his head when I told him $40,000. (I completely made that figure up.) We walked for a ways, then rode donkeys up the 800 flights of stairs. It was kind of horrifying. My friends felt bad for the donkeys. I felt bad for the Bedouins. They barely even broke sweats! I had been chugging water all day, and they carried nothing with them. We saw the monastery at the top, and it was really big. We were definitely too scared to ride the donkeys down hill, so we walked. One of my friends had told a Bedouin lady selling jewelry that she’d stop by on the way down (even though she had no intention of doing so), and she totally called her out on it when my friend refused to look at the necklaces. I usually just ignore all of them.



I felt angry that the Bedouins live without dignity—exploiting their children, living in caves. I didn’t know who to be angry at, though—the Bedouins themselves or some facet of modern society which put them into that place.

We got a taxi ride straight to the border in the afternoon, and we found our hostel in Eilat. It felt like a palace! It was so clean and came with shampoo and a flat screen TV. It was 40°C outside, and it felt like sitting in front of an open oven. We tried to go to the Chabad house for dinner, but it wasn’t for tourists, and we wound up just sitting there for an hour. No one invited us, perhaps because we weren’t all modestly dressed. We spent Shabbat day on the beach. All my friends went home during Shabbat, but I waited until it was over and went by myself. I got home at 2 am.

10.2 At 8 the next day we all attended a seminar in Sderot. Sderot is the closest town to the Gaza Strip, and it gets rocketed the most, though it has been more—though not completely—quiet since the ceasefire. In a previous blog post I mentioned an article which described a caterpillar bomb shelter on a play ground. That was the first place we went. Well, we were actually going to the Chabad house across the street. The whole building is a bomb shelter. We heard a speaker talk about Gaza and Sderot. We went to the police station where some of them Qassam rockets are piled up. Some of them say “Jerusalem al-Quds,” to suggest that they will one day reach there. I used to be an anxious child and always considered how I could be trapped and killed any place I was. Almost everything is bomb shelter in Sderot, but not quite. There are plenty of places where you would not make it into a shelter within 15 seconds. Sderot is my own personal living nightmare. We drove along a street which had been hit frequently, and our guide told us stories about what had happened in those houses—stories of fantastic luck and tragic misfortune. One house was still not repaired, and the roof was shattered and the yard strewn with household items. We saw one school which was only 1/3rd covered with a steel dome—the rest was too expensive. At the Sderot Media Center (also a bomb shelter) we watched film footage of rocket attacks. One showed children at a preschool. “Tsevah adom” sounds, and they all start running into the building. The teacher calmly ushers them inside. Once in the shelter they begin to count down to 1 and then sing so they won’t hear the explosion. We saw what someone in shock looks like. In the news it will often say there was a rocket attack with no casualties, and a few people were treated for shock. I had imagined someone sitting there wrapped in a blanket saying “Wow, I am so shocked. I really didn’t expect that. I was just sitting here and then I heard a huge explosion. Just, wow. I can’t believe it.” And the paramedic is sitting there next to her nodding and handing her a hot chocolate. That is not what shock looks like.



We heard from a dialog group, and they read us poems that Israeli and Palestinian children had written. Because the Gaza Strip is sealed off, we could not speak to any Gazans directly.

In 2005 the Israeli government evacuated 9000 Jews from the Gaza Strip. Many of them are living in Nitzan in pre-fab homes. There is a climbing structure there flying a flag for the Messiah. It was taken out of Gaza by the people, piece by piece. It is the only thing that came out. We heard a speaker talk about how her husband lost an arm and some fingers in two wars, and then the Israeli government made them leave their own home. We watched a very sad video about it. Many of the people in my program thought they were crazy. I was less convinced. I couldn’t help feeling compassion for these people. I had previously supported the withdrawal, seeing it as a necessary step towards peace. But there is no peace, and these people are living with 5 or 7 kids in tiny bungalows. I felt town between practicality and ideology. It was a wild day.
The art on the bomb shelter says "We are with you!" "You expelled orange and got red!" and a verse from the Torah about how we are G-d's people.

10.3 A friend from concerts came to Israel on birthright, and I got to see her. She is in the pro-Palestinian group on campus, but she now loves Israel. She saw most of the country, met soldiers, and went to the Jerusalem Gay Pride Parade. That doesn’t mean she no longer supports Palestine, but now she has an excellent perspective on the situation.

10.4 Pride was very calm. The security to get into the park was separate for men and women, which is just inappropriate. Besides some drummers, everything was quiet. There were no chants, music, or singing along the march. The light posts flew rainbow flags. There was one protester along the route, and he held a sign that said “Gays spread AIDS.” I think he’s brave for protesting alone. I’ve been the minority voice before, and it sucks. Hopefully I wasn’t as ignorant as him. There were few children at this event, unlike in SF. Two parents carried signs in Hebrew that said "My son is gay and I am proud of him!" and "My son is gay: so what?" It was peaceful and positive, and appropriate for Jerusalem. There were some mostly Haredi protesters across the street, but they weren't very visible. Their signs said "Holyland, not homoland," "for home's sake go strait," and "strait is butiful!"


10.5 My friend and I went to Bethlehem with some of her friends from birthright. We took an Arab bus to the border. The checkpoint felt a little holocausty. We went first to the Church of the Nativity, which was very beautiful. Next we went to the market. The two boys we were with felt very uncomfortable. I don’t think people noticed us much. Our last stop was the security wall. I was so surprised at how much of it was peaceful and hopeful. As we walked along, a man started chatting with us from his front yard, which faces the wall. He invited us in for Turkish coffee. (I’m just mentioning that because it sounds exotic. He gave us Sprite.) We spoke with him and his family about living across the street from the wall. The cutest old lady ever said it was like living in a prison. She spoke French as well, and she said the nuns spoke it at school. Wow! She said the houses that were in the way were taken down. Our host said he doesn’t think Israel wants peace. He asked how a country that wants peace could … and he gestured to the wall. Sitting in this family’s rose garden literally in the shadow of the wall was one of the most powerful experiences I have had in Israel. Like in Sderot, I felt torn between the ideology of security and the practicality of doing something as crazy as building a big ass wall. I will definitely write more about this after I have had time to ponder.


10.6 Both in Bethlehem and in Petra, we tried not to mention Israel or the fact that we are Jews. I felt ashamed afterwards. I don’t want to put myself into an unsafe situation, but I also feel as though I am the Jewish ambassador to the world. I—personally—have to be an example of a Jew who isn’t greedy, who isn’t a soldier, who isn’t a settler, who isn’t JAPy, and who isn’t all the things people still feel about Jews. I rarely regret things, but I should have found a way to come out as a Jew in Bethlehem. Israelis aren’t allowed into the West Bank, so they really don’t see Jews other than settlers, soldiers, and on Arab-language TV. My adventures over the past two weeks have been eye-opening and confusing for me. And I only have two weeks left here to sort it all out!