My Dad's friend, a professor at Tel Aviv University, always tells me the same joke. He says, "If you want to convince a young Jew to make Aliyah, send him to one of Israel's neighboring countries, he'll come back kissing the ground and thinking Israel is amongst the most advanced countries in the world," then the Professor pauses, chuckles and continues, "but don't ever send him to Switzerland, otherwise he's never coming back to Israel!" Okay, fine, I didn't go to Switzerland, but I was in Europe. While I did return home, to Jerusalem, it did leave me with some impressions. Not just about life in Europe, but about life in Israel and why it feels as crazy as it mostly always does.
So, where was I? I went to Thessaloniki, Karditsa and Athens, Greece and to London, England. Greece in a way is very similar to Israel. So, it is not so applicable to the Professor's joke. The country is simply amazing, I don't know what else to say about Greece. It has warm and friendly people, boasts some of the best tomatoes in the region, has food that actually makes you think you will never eat anything better in your life and is vibrant with energy, life and some sort of feeling you only really get here in the eastern Mediterranean, a combination of "it'll get done... tomorrow" and smiles. Not many places in the world do you see people out on the streets on a Tuesday night at 3 a.m., for no apparent reason. But I do see that in cities like Tel Aviv and Athens. In another blog post, I'll share my adventures in Greece.
For now, dear reader, let me concentrate on London. Walking around cold, grey and cosmopolitan London Towne made me nostalgic for where I lived before I started this adventure. Yup, you guessed it, New York City. Living in a country where I move in homogeneous circles, amongst people whose backgrounds are similar to mine, I tend to forget how wonderful a diverse environment is. I forgot what it was like to enter a subway car and see all sorts of people reading all sorts of books in different languages. I forgot that in one day, it was possible to have Japanese food, Mexican food and Indian food. I mean, does it get better than Avocado Spicy Tuna Brown Rice rolls, Tacos and Samosas? I also in a way forgot all about another former pastime of mine...consumerism! Going from Selfridges to Topman to Diesel, well, it felt almost like New York! Except, the prices were in Pounds and I had New Israeli Shekels in my pockets. So then, a sudden wave of frustration hit me. Why do I, of all people have to live in a country where there are no nice clothes to buy (most of the time), where I choose almost daily between the same middle eastern foods to eat, and most of all, where I end up having very little spending money because I live in a country where the cost of living is about as high as in any large U.S. city, yet the salaries are way lower than average U.S. salaries (at least it feels like this, I must get you the real numbers)? As Israelis put it, "Why do we live in a country where we just get by but never really make it (mistadrim)?"
It was way more difficult than I ever expected to come back to ol' Israel from London. But luckily, I was reminded why this London-induced happiness would have been short lived. I have a close friend here (let's call him Jason) that described what he thinks I felt. I think he almost hit the nail on the head. To lightly paraphrase him, it seems as if when you live in a place like New York, London or San Francisco, you can get whatever you want, whenever you want it, as long as you have the means (or credit) to acquire it. At some point, the happiness derived from buying something will wear (PUN intended?) off until you buy something new. (I suppose since I bought a lot of stuff in London, the happiness would have lasted about a few days/years.) In places like London, you can buy stuff often. Mostly because if you live there, a 20 Pound item may not seem like the end of the world (But, about 130 Shekels, or 20 Pounds, makes me think twice). But when you are in Israel, there is nothing you would want to buy for that price, and so I suppose, you end up deriving happiness from one big purchase (let's say shoes) that you end up buying once every few months. This happiness may last weeks. Now, neither I nor Jason (I think) would be saying that is what keeps us in Israel; the happiness derived from one purchase every now and then. But it helped me to explain to myself why eventually I would have been unhappy in London, just like in New York - because you always find yourself needing and wanting more than you have. You'll never have enough, either. In Israel, somehow I'm okay buying that one thing every now and then (maybe because there is nothing to buy?) but in other places, I need something almost on an excessive basis.
These sorts of conundrums always lead me to the same question, "WHY am I HERE?!" Other than the philosophical, "this is our homeland" answer, I don't have another more tangible answer. I'm told by Israelis, almost on a daily basis, that if they could live in the U.S., like I could, that they would run away in under 10 seconds. The next ElAl flight to JFK they say. But you know, I don't buy it. This country offers a state of mind no other place in the world could probably give me (or some of you). The feeling that although it may be hard to find your place here, you are somehow where you should be. I find that most Israelis who say they would leave this place in a heartbeat are those that have never lived out of this country and don't know what it's like to be a wandering Jew.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will live in New York or in London. But, for right now, I seem to be okay getting by here, enjoying the sun, eating tomatoes and having a government that makes a big deal about all my holidays.
***
(I should clarify that there are plenty of stores and retail outlets in Israel. There are even Israeli chains. And they are not so horrible, either. But sometimes, when comparing it to anything you would buy in Europe or in the U.S., well, it's best to just not think about what you could be buying for the same amount of money.)
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Six degrees of separation? How about one?
For some people, both inside and outside of Israel, it is oftentimes incomprehensible to grasp just how tiny this place is. Here are some population stats to help you understand just what I mean:
Total population of the State of Israel: 7.375 Million
Total population of the District of Jerusalem: 910,300
Total population of the District of Tel Aviv: 1.227 Million
Source: Israel Central Bureau of Statistics, September 2009.
Now compare it to this:
Total population of the State of New Jersey: 8.683 Million
Total population of the County of Los Angeles: 9.862 Million
Total population of the City of New York: 8.214 Million
Source: United States Census Bureau, 2006 Estimates.
So, to help put it into perspective, Israel is smaller (population-wise) than Los Angeles, New York and New Jersey. This means there is a huge chance of knowing people that other people you know also know, because after all, a country like this can be like a big village. Jerusalem feels like an even smaller bubble to me. If you think about it, though, it makes sense why: the sectors of Jerusalem can be very easily dissected. Within the Jewish population of Jerusalem, you have those that are ultra-orthodox, the observant population, and the more-or-less heathenish population. I fall into the latter. Then you can further subdivide those into those of English-speaking backgrounds, or just not Israeli by birth, and then the thoroughbred Israelis. For the most part, although it is quite annoying, the way it works is that you hang out with people of your own kind. The result is that I end up getting to know a very specific type of Israeli, or in other words, the new Israeli who shares a similar story to mine. So, considering you are pigeonholed into your population, it is quickly uncovered that if you know two people (I even know 10!), then it is not surprising that you both know a thrid person in common, even if you had no idea they knew each other. It is a very small world. (A whole other topic is when it turns out that you know one person in Israel who also knows someone from abroad that you also know - my roommate last year was the best man at my mom's best friend's niece's wedding. Imagine that!)
Sometimes it seems like everyone is Israel knows each other. There are very concrete aspects of the life of every Israeli that allows for people here to get to know people from outside their city. For example, many Israeli children partake in some sort of quasi-political youth group. Through these youth groups, they get to know people from all over the country, and then what do you know, when they go off to the Army for their mandatory service, they may realize that their bunk-mate in basic training is actually the best friend of the next door neighbor of their friend form their youth group. It's pretty common when you are out with an Israeli that either they run into somebody they know from their past, or that they start naming people they know until they know someone in common. I remember when we used to do this in College with people from other schools until you realized you both know someone. Maybe Ivy League geography is like Israeli geography?
However, Israel is also a complicated country, not just a small one. I'm not even talking about the conflict here, but more about they way they run the show here. There is this concept here called "protexia," or "Vitamin P." This means that you know someone on the "inside" who can help you. You can have protexia at the Bank, the phone company, the University, the Tax Bureau, you get the point. In this country, there is an unusual amount of paperwork and it oftentimes will simply just sit on some bureaucrat's desk (a la Soviet Union) until s/he feels like stamping it and sending it to the next desk. At the bank, for example, your ATM card may get "lost" on its way to you, but if you just happen to know the branch manager, the ATM card will get to you.
This is also where Israel being a small place is helpful. It's almost as if it was done on purpose that things do not move as efficiently as they could, because either way, you will know someone who can help you. So, what is the point to my story, you ask? Well I will tell you.
Due to my age and my sex, I have to go to Army for a short service. At 24, the only obligation is six months, I say "only" because had I been 18, I would have had to serve three years. So, there really is quite a difference. Also, I will not have to do anything combat-related because there is not enough time given the length of my service where they could train me, so it should be a relatively easy, breezy service. If I could only get my draft date and latter, that is... Since I have yet to get my letter explaining what date I have to report for basic service, I cannot really get my life going here because I can't find a real job if I have to leave after a few weeks for six months. (Meanwhile, however, I spend my afternoons making fresh salsa and gazpacho with the best tomatoes in the world and making Hebrew vocabulary flashcards, so things seem to be getting dire!) It was looking as if I desperately needed "protexia" (sort of like the English word "protection") inside the Military machine in order to know when they were going to draft me. On Friday, I was explaining this situation to a close family friend of ours in Tel Aviv over a delicious (?) cup of instant coffee (again, ?). He asked how I was not frustrated with all this uncertainty, because he kept reminding me, "you don't have any dates." I began to have these visions of me being 38 and still waiting for my draft letter and living off "savings," although these are rapidly dwindling. So, then, he said, "why don't we just call my friend?" He explained his friend (a woman) "knows" people in the Army.
We dialed her number and the sweetest most reassuring voice answered the phone. I explained my story to her and then my family friend took the phone and explained that I was a (really cool) guy trying to get started in this "crazy country." She said she would help, told me to phone her on Sunday (like Monday here), and that she would be "with me to the end!" But, I still had no idea who I had talked to. Well, it turns out I had talked to one of Israel's most famous journalists and the correspondent people turn to for any military news. It's like I talked to Katie Couric and explained to her some situation and then said, "So you can help me? You know someone?" We are now on a first name and SMS-text basis.
She called me back a third time after having scheduled a meeting for me at the Jerusalem Recruitment Office ("Tell them you are my friend and you should be fine!" she reminded me.) and said, "Alberto, do I have a girl for you, she is beautiful and has long black hair..."
Total population of the State of Israel: 7.375 Million
Total population of the District of Jerusalem: 910,300
Total population of the District of Tel Aviv: 1.227 Million
Source: Israel Central Bureau of Statistics, September 2009.
Now compare it to this:
Total population of the State of New Jersey: 8.683 Million
Total population of the County of Los Angeles: 9.862 Million
Total population of the City of New York: 8.214 Million
Source: United States Census Bureau, 2006 Estimates.
So, to help put it into perspective, Israel is smaller (population-wise) than Los Angeles, New York and New Jersey. This means there is a huge chance of knowing people that other people you know also know, because after all, a country like this can be like a big village. Jerusalem feels like an even smaller bubble to me. If you think about it, though, it makes sense why: the sectors of Jerusalem can be very easily dissected. Within the Jewish population of Jerusalem, you have those that are ultra-orthodox, the observant population, and the more-or-less heathenish population. I fall into the latter. Then you can further subdivide those into those of English-speaking backgrounds, or just not Israeli by birth, and then the thoroughbred Israelis. For the most part, although it is quite annoying, the way it works is that you hang out with people of your own kind. The result is that I end up getting to know a very specific type of Israeli, or in other words, the new Israeli who shares a similar story to mine. So, considering you are pigeonholed into your population, it is quickly uncovered that if you know two people (I even know 10!), then it is not surprising that you both know a thrid person in common, even if you had no idea they knew each other. It is a very small world. (A whole other topic is when it turns out that you know one person in Israel who also knows someone from abroad that you also know - my roommate last year was the best man at my mom's best friend's niece's wedding. Imagine that!)
Sometimes it seems like everyone is Israel knows each other. There are very concrete aspects of the life of every Israeli that allows for people here to get to know people from outside their city. For example, many Israeli children partake in some sort of quasi-political youth group. Through these youth groups, they get to know people from all over the country, and then what do you know, when they go off to the Army for their mandatory service, they may realize that their bunk-mate in basic training is actually the best friend of the next door neighbor of their friend form their youth group. It's pretty common when you are out with an Israeli that either they run into somebody they know from their past, or that they start naming people they know until they know someone in common. I remember when we used to do this in College with people from other schools until you realized you both know someone. Maybe Ivy League geography is like Israeli geography?
However, Israel is also a complicated country, not just a small one. I'm not even talking about the conflict here, but more about they way they run the show here. There is this concept here called "protexia," or "Vitamin P." This means that you know someone on the "inside" who can help you. You can have protexia at the Bank, the phone company, the University, the Tax Bureau, you get the point. In this country, there is an unusual amount of paperwork and it oftentimes will simply just sit on some bureaucrat's desk (a la Soviet Union) until s/he feels like stamping it and sending it to the next desk. At the bank, for example, your ATM card may get "lost" on its way to you, but if you just happen to know the branch manager, the ATM card will get to you.
This is also where Israel being a small place is helpful. It's almost as if it was done on purpose that things do not move as efficiently as they could, because either way, you will know someone who can help you. So, what is the point to my story, you ask? Well I will tell you.
Due to my age and my sex, I have to go to Army for a short service. At 24, the only obligation is six months, I say "only" because had I been 18, I would have had to serve three years. So, there really is quite a difference. Also, I will not have to do anything combat-related because there is not enough time given the length of my service where they could train me, so it should be a relatively easy, breezy service. If I could only get my draft date and latter, that is... Since I have yet to get my letter explaining what date I have to report for basic service, I cannot really get my life going here because I can't find a real job if I have to leave after a few weeks for six months. (Meanwhile, however, I spend my afternoons making fresh salsa and gazpacho with the best tomatoes in the world and making Hebrew vocabulary flashcards, so things seem to be getting dire!) It was looking as if I desperately needed "protexia" (sort of like the English word "protection") inside the Military machine in order to know when they were going to draft me. On Friday, I was explaining this situation to a close family friend of ours in Tel Aviv over a delicious (?) cup of instant coffee (again, ?). He asked how I was not frustrated with all this uncertainty, because he kept reminding me, "you don't have any dates." I began to have these visions of me being 38 and still waiting for my draft letter and living off "savings," although these are rapidly dwindling. So, then, he said, "why don't we just call my friend?" He explained his friend (a woman) "knows" people in the Army.
We dialed her number and the sweetest most reassuring voice answered the phone. I explained my story to her and then my family friend took the phone and explained that I was a (really cool) guy trying to get started in this "crazy country." She said she would help, told me to phone her on Sunday (like Monday here), and that she would be "with me to the end!" But, I still had no idea who I had talked to. Well, it turns out I had talked to one of Israel's most famous journalists and the correspondent people turn to for any military news. It's like I talked to Katie Couric and explained to her some situation and then said, "So you can help me? You know someone?" We are now on a first name and SMS-text basis.
She called me back a third time after having scheduled a meeting for me at the Jerusalem Recruitment Office ("Tell them you are my friend and you should be fine!" she reminded me.) and said, "Alberto, do I have a girl for you, she is beautiful and has long black hair..."
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