This Is How You Live In Israel - Part 4

On Sunday, 18 Jan 2009, we started our day at cousin Marcia's Hadassah chapter meeting where Liz and I were the featured speakers. The topic was why we are Zionists and what we do during our Winters in Israel. After sharing our personal stories about how we got here, Liz described her volunteer work and how her working has led to my being able to show up and eat.

After the Hadassah ladies finished with us, Liz took me to La Soba. In past years she's kept this place to herself on the grounds that I can't be on my feet for 2 to 4 hours at a time. But I've been doing well of late and Liz knew that the soup kitchen would be short on volunteers, so I got drafted. La Soba is located in the Shapira neighborhood, tucked in between Hatikvah and South Tel Aviv. For those of you who know NYC think of the sketchier, industrial sections of the outer boroughs, particular that area of Queens that seems to consist mainly of legal auto body and not so legal auto chop shops. La Soba gets its food donated from local restaurants and serves anyone who walks in the door and sits down. There is no official take out service but some people know that if they come in with a container they will get food to take home, which may be the park or a local shelter.

Working at La Soba is something like being Lucy in the bon bon factory (or, for you younger Suspects, Gilda Radner in the nuclear warhead factory). Three of us were loading trays for other workers to serve to diners. The concept is to provide free meals while preserving people's dignity. The clientele is a diverse mix of poor people, illegal immigrants, drug users and dealers, crazy people who fell through holes in the social safety net and people who are just plain hungry and know how to find the place. A "you-name-it-we-got-it" sort of crowd. The workers include volunteers from all walks of life, like the head of health services for the Israel police or one of the first pilots in the Israel Air Force or my Wife, and a variety of convicts working off their community service sentences. If your Hebrew is good enough you can not only have the pleasure of performing a real mitzvah but also learn how to embezzle from your company, cheat on your taxes or steal bicycles. Getting into the flow of the place, I started singing (to myself) every depression era food song I could remember (Soup and Pie in the Sky kept coming up to the frontal lobe). Liz works there most Sundays and I'm going to join her.

After La Soba we had to make the major decision of where to eat lunch. Since we were already in the sketchy end of Tel Aviv we were within an easy walk of Gina's Felafel. Gina's would not be the almost mythical Arab falafel that Liz keeps searching for. One of the Arab kids working off his sentence at La Soba recommended Itzik's on Jerusalem in Jaffa, not to be confused with Big Itzik's grilled meat in the outer fringe of the flea market, but we decided that would be too far out of our way. We'll try Itzik on another day and I will duly report our findings.

Gina's turned out to be more than satisfactory. At least as good as the kiosk on Nordau, the falafel was fresh and tasty. The guy behind the counter treated me like an old friend (see the picture) and the restaurant, including the bathroom, was remarkably clean. We sat outside and watched the traffic go by, trying to puzzle out why we seem to have an affinity for places where real people, as opposed to tourists, hang out. (Disclosure: This may end soon as Gina's made it into this month's Time Out Tel Aviv.) Everyone but us looked like they were on their lunch break, except the couple strolling by who were dressed like they had seen too many Quentin Tarrantino movies (he had half his body weight in grease on his hair, both were visions in black and white). The only way they will avoid capture by the fashion police will be if they were scouting locations for their film company. Which would not be unusual as Tel Aviv streets host numerous fashion photo shoots, TV news broadcasts and Indie film crews.

After lunch we decided to walk up to the Shalom Tower (once the tallest building in the Middle East but now dwarfed and hidden by taller and even uglier sky scrapers). The galleries on the first two floors of the Shalom Tower currently feature exhibits relating to the 100th anniversary of Tel Aviv. (Burt - sorry we missed this) If you're on foot, you get from South Tel Aviv to the Shalom Tower by going through the Florentin. The Florentin by day is a collection of furniture shops (making, repairing, selling), printers and wholesale clothing stores. By night it features some of the newer, hipper and more underground art galleries, cafes and clubs in town. The area is a bit run down (part of the bohemian charm) but features this city's International Movement architecture (think Bauhaus, Corbusier, Van Der Rohe and their progeny). (See picture attached)

The Shalom Tower exhibits include quilts depicting scenes, current and historic, of Tel Aviv. Its painting using textiles. The colors just jump off the walls and the City comes to life. Add to this the murals made from tiles, the still photographs and films of the founding of the City (a lottery to distribute building plots held on a sand dune where Rothschild Boulevard now runs), the architecture and the seaside and large model of the City celebrating its status as a UNESCO historic site (a/k/a The White City), and we had a couple of hours of free entertainment.

Next we strolled into Neve Tzedek, the first neighborhood built outside Jaffa and now the capital of Israel's yuppy gentry. Our goal was something chocolate and gooey, washed down with cappucinos, to top off the falafel lunch. This was accomplished at Susannah's, a trendy cafe next to the Suzanne Dallel Dance Center, which lives in a couple of rehabilitated trade school buildings saved from the wrecking ball to anchor the revitalization of the neighborhood. This year's location puts us within easy walking distance of Neve Tzedek and Jaffa so we should have more to tell (like the wine bar featuring only Israeli wines).

And then walking back home along the beach (I have mentioned the beach, haven't I?) to turn on the TV and internet to learn if the war was still over for now.


A SAD NOTE

During Sunday's wandering my brother, Bill, called to tell me that our cousin, Steven Levitin, who's cardiomyopathy had been discovered when he was 2, led an exemplary life but was, in the end, done in by his own body. His cardiomyopathy blocked the output from his left ventricle (mine does not which is probably why I'm writing this and he's not) and he spent the next 50+ years watching his diet, exercising carefully, taking tons of drugs and, nine years ago, having a heart transplant. Most people, especially his parents will tell you that he died way too young. Steven, though, will tell you that by being careful and by having really great medical care he was lucky and probably added two or three decades to his life. Steven was always upbeat and always felt he would walk away from his latest crisis. He was looking good and feeling optimistic when I saw him last July. In the Fall he had a heart attack (apparently his old arteries failed his new heart). Before I left for Israel I spoke to him. Steven was still in the hospital while his doctors debated putting him back on the transplant list. Steven was looking forward to walking out of there yet again. He didn't this time.

Steven was always someone who worried about everyone else and put a lot of energy into helping others. I like to say that you can tell a man by his wife and children. Lord knows I get forgiven for my multitude of sines because people really like Liz and the girls. Steven leaves a wonderful wife, Kathleen, and two daughters, Rachel and Hillary, whom anyone would be proud of. A fitting legacy for a decent guy who, despite what he would say, left us too soon.

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This Is How You Live In Israel - Part 3

As this blog was being written, the war was starting to wind down. Amidst a flurry of diplomatic moves, it was becoming clear that the Israelis and the Palestinians had reached a meeting of the minds - sort of. Everyone preferred to have the actual shooting part of the war end before Barack Obama was sworn in as President. It seems that no one wanted to overly annoy him on his first day in office. Plenty of time for that later.

Meanwhile here in The Bubble, life goes on pretty much undisturbed. Thursday, 15 Jan 2009, was a day on which Liz was scheduled to go to the Matnas in Rishon to help high school students with their English. Faced with most of a day on my own I made two decisions. First, I would, for a change, contribute something myself by lending my body to A Package From Home. Second, since this meant getting up before dawn to catch a bus to Jerusalem, I would reward myself for my good works by meeting up with Mauricio. Thursdays are his Jerusalem days which means I'd get the pleasure of his company and a tour of Old and Center City coffee houses, a good lunch and a ride home. So I got up early and traveled to Jerusalem, noticing more security than usual at the bus stations and the entrances to the Old City but nothing that slowed down my journey.

My foggy memory says that I've written about A Package from Home, a wonderful organization founded and led by Barbara Silverman, that provides bags of clothes, toiletries and munchies to soldiers who do not have families in Israel. If you're interested, here's their web site http://www.apackagefromhome.org. Barbara has moved into a synagogue in Rehavia where her minions rearrange the tables to form long rows on which are piled the various goodies to go into the bags. In the past, the volunteers would take empty bags and walk down a row putting in the socks, tooth paste, Bamba and the rest of that day's supplies. Today, Shira Gilor, Barbara's Project Manager and all around right arm, has decided to try something new. Instead of us walking with the bags we would each take a station and add whatever was in front of us to bags being passed along. With agile youth on either side of me this was something akin to Lucy in the bon bon factory though only a few of us older folks got the joke as, from time to time, someone would moan "Oh Ricky." This system worked well as we packed a couple of thousand bags and I became intimate with dozens and dozens of pairs of socks.

After packing the packages off to various locations in and around Gaza and a base up north, I called Mauricio and was told to meet him at the Arbaah Cafe (The Quarter Cafe). Having actually paid some attention to where I was going during a previous Thursday in Jerusalem (blog of January 6 on the recession and lunch) I was able to direct a cabbie into the parking area of the Jewish Quarter and hike in from their to the cafe. . Angelo made us a fabulous pasta and salad lunch. Mauricio's other friend, Sergio, is a retired chef who now does some gardening and has rediscovered religion. I met them at a cafe in the Old City and we walked down to the Kotel where Mauricio, at Sergio's insistence, put on tefillin. As the conversation was mostly in Italian and Hebrew I never found out just why this ritual was being undertaken but it was a sunny day at The Wall, so why not. I went with Mauricio on his business rounds and then we drove back west over the mountains and back roads. More scenic and beats a lot of rush hour traffic.

Mauricio likes to drive into Jerusalem by the scenic route. Instead of using one of two major highways he comes in on the ridge of the hills leading to the city. This is a very beautiful way to travel as much of the way from the Beit Shemesh exit off Route 1 to the Bethlehem-Hebron Road (yeah, more about that in a bit) winds through JNF-planted forests and terraced orchards. Along the way we had three reminders of more serious events. First, Keren called to say she was heading back to the Army. Then we stopped at a memorial and outdoor arena used by Keren's engineering brigade. The Memorial is for all Brigade members who fell in battle starting with the members who built the "Burma Road" to Jerusalem in 1947-48 and, in the form of a computer print out taped to the wall of names, a young man who was killed in Gaza just two days ago. With too many soldiers in between. Then, while cruising along listening to a pop song on the radio (Aya Korem singing Kayitz for you Israeli pop fans) the DJ broke in and quietly said "Azahka b' Beersheva, Ashdod v'Netivot" This was a warning of missiles heading toward those three cities. And then back to the music. Mauricio says this is an insane way to live. He also had a mix of old rock and roll songs so the trip included our singing along with Eric Burden, Procol Harum and The Trogs.

Mauricio swung so far south of Tel Aviv that he came up through Rehovot and Rishon Letzyyon. Liz had spent the afternoon at the Matnas (community center) in the Ramat Eliahu neighborhood of Rishon, She goes there on Thursdays to help tutor high students in English (while they work on her Hebrew, she thinks its a good deal). So Mauricio decided to pick her up and drive us both back to Tel Aviv. While waiting for Liz Mauricio shopped for fruits and vegetables at a market near the Matnas. I suddenly started to sneeze (something organic hit my allergy button). The woman running the market offered me a tissue. Her husband gave me half an orange and said I should eat it, it would be good for my cold. Its a country populated by Jewish mothers of both sexes. The orange was delicious, so I bought 8 to take home.

On Friday, 16 January, Liz worked for Fugee Friday, a group of volunteers organized by James Fox a grad student (for more see http://greenprophet.com/2008/09/01/2207/fugee-fridays-refugees/).. Every Friday afternoon, they gather food donations from shuk merchants and distribute it at a shelter for African immigrants. These are illegal, economic immigrants who walk from places like Sudan, Somalia and Ethiopia and manage to get over the border without being shot by the Egyptians. The Israeli government hasn't quite figured out what to do with these people but Israelis are stepping up to help with shelters, food and, sometimes, jobs. Donated food also goes to Israeli families living in the same poor neighborhood. This is the side of Israel that the Western supporters of Hamas don't want you to know about.


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A Partial Apology To The Religious

Just watched the inauguration with Liz and David Mallach. Wow. Back in the day we used to joke about a colored guy getting elected President and having someone like Aretha sing at the inaugural. Damn.

As for the earlier blog on religion. I'm not totally apologizing but watching Ric Warren I realized that, once again, Obama is a genius. First, most of the country is religious and conservative in their religious beliefs. You can change the world with a few dozen African American church ladies but you will have to get used to the fact that they won't support same sex marriage. OK, Warren's not my cup of tea but we all agreed he was highly appropriate to the occassion (the Jesus reference was to his personal savior, not to ours). When Obama needs right wing backing to do something about health care he's going to get it from the church groups.

And then there was the Reverend Joseph E. Lowery, a founder of the southern Christian leadership Conference. Rev. Lowery is not from or part of the Civil Rights Movement. Lowery is the Civil Rights Movement. This wasn't just a gesture, this was a message from the new President. I was in tears. Maybe the 60's are over and the good guys won. Amen. Read more!

What Now? Leave The Settlements And Hoist One For Viola Liuzzo

Now that we've actually gone a whole day without rocket attacks, we are back to the question of where to go from here. The choices are either the same old, same old. Or to try a different approach. Israel has to find a way to open the Gaza borders and let people breathe. Israel has got to stop expanding the settlements and start pulling out of the West Bank in a serious way. The tired old excuses as to why this cannot be done just do nothing to make Israel a safer place to live.

Hamas and Israel are not going to speak directly to one another. OK, so use Egypt and Turkey as go betweens and negotiate with the Arab League using the Saudi proposal as a starting point. I suspect that the Obama administration would be supportive of such an effort. I hope the Obama administration will not continue to use my taxpayer dollars to aid expansion of West Bank settlements but instead use my tax dollars to dismantle the project. I think it was Bradley Bursten in Haaretz who pointed out that Israel uses settlements the way Hamas uses Qassams. If Hamas takes over the West Bank and fires a missile or sends through a suicide bomber, Israel always has the option of making Ramallah look like Gaza City. But unless Israel breaks the cycle (I have no expectations of better Palestinian behavior but do have some hope of better behavior from the Jews) we will see what just happened in Gaza repeated, again and again and again.

Which brings me to religion and the inaugural in Washington. Obama now has three Rabbis, lest he offend one of our major sects, to go with his right wing Protestant, gay Protestant and there must be a Catholic in there somewhere. Even Fox News observed that we still lack a Muslim and an Atheist. I have a thought, get religion out of the ceremony. I don't care if my President is religious (and Obama can certainly be accused of that) and maybe would like some prayer said in connection with his taking office. But why do we need to satisfy the PC police? To me religion really is a root cause of what's wrong with Western Civilization. It is the opiate of the masses. You can use the Torah, Bible and Koran to justify just about anything you want to justify. The settlers inflicting pogroms upon Palestinian farmers, the Jihadists in Gaza and Mumbai, Protestants raging war against the LGBT community, and let's not forget that the Catholics still have the Inquisition though they've given it a more PC name. Everyone gets to do whatever they want and all in G-d's name. Yes, I'll help form a minyan and daven mincha but I'd be very happy to not do it on the Capitol steps.

Finally, I assume that you are going to watch or listen to the Inauguration. Liz and I are waiting for David Mallach to come visit and help us put down a bottle of Red Alert wine, a special bottling by Galai, a Negev-based boutique winery. We'll watch Obama get sworn in and then go out to dinner to celebrate Liz' 35th wedding anniversary.

Should you have the chance, please hoist a glass of whatever you will be drinking and take a moment to remember Viola Liuzzo. If Mrs. Liuzzo (she never made it to the world of Ms.) had been born 30 years later she'd be a soccer Mom with a minivan. Instead, in the summer of 1963, she drove her car from her suburban Detroit home to Mississippi. She was car pooling voter registration workers when she was assassinated by the Klan. Today we inaugurate the first African American President of the United States of America. The country, the world, is still far from perfect but, every so often, we do manage to make change for the good.

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This Is How You Live In Israel - Part 2

Keren called us Thursday night from her parents' home in Rishon. The Army gave her time off but is requiring that she keep her cell phone on and stay within two hours traveling time of her base. Meanwhile, her classes at Hebrew University are still in session and she has to try to keep up by internet. The Professors are posting lecture notes, readings and assignments and giving the students who have been called up extra time to hand in papers. But finals won't be pushed back and Keren hasn't a clue when she will get back to campus. Since she can be called at any moment she can't put her uniforms in the wash. On the up side she may make it to Tel Aviv this weekend so we (and the boyfriend) will see for ourselves that she's OK.

I said to Keren that here in Tel Aviv you don't know there's a war on unless you turn on the TV. She said that's why Tel Aviv is called "The Bubble."

Daniel, is in the north for more training and, with the rest of his part of the Golani Brigade, waiting to learn whether Hezbollah is really sitting this one out.

Last night (Friday) we went to Jerusalem to have Shabbat dinner with my cousins. Just before dinner Tamar called from her base on the Israeli side of the border where Gaza, Egypt and Israel all meet. She is complaining because they have assigned her to 16 hours of kitchen duty over the weekend. Her mother, Raina, remarks that this is a lot better than guard duty. Raina, a doctor who describes herself as a leftist, has also reached the conclusion that enough is enough and Israel is right to be going after Hamas. She and Zvika are both unhappy about civilians being hurt but see no way to avoid it. Of course, Hamas could stop firing rockets.

Meanwhile, Gal's Dad has decided that I should write more about sports and will be taking me to a more senior club level game. This should be fun and I'll definitely get another blog out of it.
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Recession Comes To Israel, So We Go To Lunch

NOTE: I started writing this in early December and kept getting distracted. So today, Jan 6, with all the company gone, I'm going to try to push this and an observation about the elections out the electronic door.

6 January 2009
Tel Aviv

The Global Recession has made its way to Israel. It took a while to get here since Israeli banks managed to avoid the subprime mess by taking the unique position that loans should only be made to people who have the means to repay them. The Tel Aviv stock exchange held its value far longer than just about any other exchange on the planet. But, despite the efforts of some old line socialists, the business cycle has not been repealed and the downturn that swept through Europe has landed on these shores. The layoffs here are in the tens of thousands, as opposed to the US' hundreds of thousands, but given that the country only has 7 1/2 million people, that's a lot. Also, the cutbacks have included the high tech companies which is bad news. More bad news that hits your correspondent close to home is that more restaurants are closing than opening and others have cut back their hours. Also, from today's chat with a professional guide, tourism is falling off. Recent uptrends in tourist-related industries as well as the housing bubble have been driven by Europeans with lots of euros to burn. As you can imagine, this source of revenue is drying up.

Added to this is the daily bad news coming out of the collapse of Bernie Madoff's ponzi scheme. Israeli institutions receive substantial funding from US charities and individuals:the same charities and individuals whose endowments have disappeared in Madoff's black hole. Facing a cutback in social programs and educational grants at the same time as the country falls into the recession is a double hit that poor people and students can ill afford.

On the optimistic side (Ben Gurion famously said that to be a Zionist you have to be an optimist), this is a not the "perfect storm" that plagues the US economy. The financial system here is in no danger of collapse. Nothing comparable to the potential impact of a GM or Citigroup bankruptcy is looming. This is more like a "normal" down cycle. No one knows how deep this can go or for how long. Israel's economy is tied to trade with the US and EU so a recovery there will give a boost to a recovery here. Meanwhile, the government has been taking steps to shore up the social safety net.

Good food and drink with friends may not cure all that ails you but, afterwards, you either feel better or you just don't care (which is almost as good). I share this way of dealing with life's vicissitudes with many if not most of you Usual Suspects. Back in the day when I plied my trade as a Manhattan-based attorney, in the event of some transportation meltdown caused by bad timing, bad weather or some other natural or man made disaster, my personal disaster plan was to find a really good restaurant with a decent wine list (and/or draft beers) and dig in until the disaster abated. Feeling much better about life, I would eventually get a car service, cab or train to take me home with no hassle. There I would sleep it off until the next round of hunting and gathering. This is also a good way to deal with a world-wide recession. Using your credit card helps get the international financial system going again (and is good for my Visa stock).

Not long before we returned to Israel we were providing a car, driver and comic relief to our friend JoAnne who was moving her law office, home and self from New York to Jerusalem  While trying to drive from Manhattan to Forest Hills via the Midtown Tunnel we got stuck in a classic New York holiday season evening rush hour traffic jam from hell. In a traffic-jam-from-hell a 20 minute drive can take 2 to 3 hours. As we sat in a barely moving car, I discovered that JoAnne and I use the same Manhattan Disaster Plan. For those of you who still need to get in and out of mid-town Manhattan, try Soho (glatt kosher nouveau meat) in the lobby of the Sony Building. Other recommendations are Le Marais and Prime Grill. These are places best frequented  in the company of a partner or senior executive who can charge it to the firm.

JoAnne has made Aliyah and now resides in an apartment in the German Colony neighborhood of Jerusalem. She is currently learning Hebrew, teaching her grandchildren how to paint, practicing law and becoming a Jerusalemite. Her home turf is a totally lovely apartment on Emek Refaim, the main drag in one of Jerusalem's "hot" neighborhoods, which she is decorating in a spare Israeli style. Less clutter is more.

While we had not tightly scheduled this year's sojourn, high on our list of "must do's" is making the rounds with Mauricio and playing with JoAnne. So, when Mauricio invited us to join him on his rounds in Jerusalem, we jumped at the chance for a two-fer. The day was going really well. Mauricio's main goal was to collect checks from a few customers in the Old City. On our way in we stopped to take the two-bit tour of Jo Anne's apartment and invite her out to lunch. Jo Anne was happy to go with us to the Old City since she needed to buy an appropriate religious icon for a sick Christian friend. An item we, being rockabilly fans of a certain age, quickly started referring to as The Plastic Jesus. As we drove into the Jewish Quarter the heavens opened up, the sun shone down and, miracle of miracles, Mauricio found a legal parking space near the Zion Gate. Who says G-d doesn't smile on her Jews? I interrupted Liz and Jo Anne, who were deep into the economic implications of the Plastic Jesus market to make them just focus on where we were standing. Being inside the walls can work its magic, even on some type-A lawyers from NYC.

Mauricio led us on a tour of his clients' locations and, to make the day even better, collected some checks (nothing helps get you through the recession better than getting paid) and took us to the Quarter Cafe (owned by a client) where he took over the espresso machine and produced four cups of Cafe Mauricio. The Quarter Cafe is at the Old City's highest point before you start walking down into the Kotel Plaza. You sit and drink your coffee at eye level with the Al Aqsa Mosque and look out over the hills west of the Old City. Nice view on a sunny day.

Mauricio successfully completed his business. Jo Anne was not as successful as the merchant refused to come down on what we all thought was a ridiculously high price for a Plastic Jesus (maybe the recession hasn't yet hit the Old City schlock shops). So we got back in the car and headed to La Guta, a highly regarded French/Oriental bistro in the center of the new city.It's expensive for dinner but has a businessman's lunch we wanted to try. And, of course, Mauricio knows the owner. The day was still going great as, after fighting our way through the obligatory traffic-jam-from-hell, a daily feature of central Jerusalem, we found a second lawful parking space. Those of you who have to drive in and out of major cities know that finding two lawful spaces in the space of an hour or two makes you feel invulnerable to all evil. But then our luck ran out.

We got to La Guta and it was closed. Not for good but the owner told us that there is just not enough business to justify opening before dinner during the week. Mind you, this is central, west Jerusalem on a sunny day in a month when the locals are gearing up for more chagim and the tourists should start coming in. We went to a second place, this time a fish joint, and it was also closed. The third place we tried, Eldad Vezehoo (French/Moroccan grill), was open. The conversation tended toward the Hebrew as JoAnne is trying hard to learn by speaking (which is actually a challenge when you live on Emek Refaim where you can go through much of your day hearing only English) and Mauricio was just as happy to give her a workout. As usual, once Mauricio and I can see each other's hands we are able to communicate.

So there you have it. The recession has clearly hit daily life here. Fortunately, my way of dealing with adversity seems to work as well in Israel as in the US, so I expect we'll be fine. And I'll report on La Guta when we circle back and try it for dinner.


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