Beersheva Shwarma

So I had my second schwarma of the trip at the local place in Beersheva. It was delicious. They gave us a deal, 17 shekels. Not bad. That's 2 on the trip.

Cheap Falafel - Dear God!

The local place, right near the Merkaz, was out of schwarma, so I had falafel. It was delicious. 10 sheckes for falafel and fries. It's 4.5 sheckels per US dollar. This could be a problem.

Heavy Lifting

I am now standing again, as my back started to get quite sore.

Earlier this afternoon, the group split up. A handful went to an old age home, but most of us, myself included, went to a local charitable organization, like the Salvation Army or Goodwill or something like that. We spent our time moving furniture or folding clothes. It was hot, sweaty and dusty. I imagined that this was what Mexican factory workers in California feel like. But I suppose we were helpful. I also rode around on an old scooter, which was cool.

Kasparov of the Desert

No rest for us: our second day in Beersheva (yesterday) they had us making a carnival for the little kids. My roomate Josh had brought a bunch of chess boards with him, and had the great idea of a chess booth. He and I ran it together, as we are both competent players and I can speak a bit of Hebrew. We also had our friend Gittel provide us with some key Russian terms.

The kids absolutely loved the carnival, and amazingly, the chess booth was a huge hit. Lots of kids, boys and girls, came to play. Almost all the Indian children that came knew how to play, as did many Russians (obviously). The Indian girls were especially good. Julio, a 12 year old from Ecuador, was also decent. He's very bright, and well on his way to being tri-lingual, as he speaks Spanish, Hebrew and English. I had a difficult moment with one small Indian boy, named Menashe. He was very good, so I decided to try somewhat harder against him and I beat him, rather than let him win. Afterwards, he got somewhat upset. I offered to play him again, and he agreed, but got bored midway and quit the game. I felt bad, but was told by the staff that part of teaching games is teaching how to lose, which makes sense, I suppose. I told him to keep at it because he really was quite good, and I hope he will. He doesn't live at the center, but with his family in Rehovot, so I may never see him again.

The real fun started when a local 12 year old Russian named Alex, a ringer who didn't even live at the absorption center, came by. He played Josh, who knows the game well. Immediately, Josh could see he was dealing with a real player and thus had to really play his hardest. Josh barely won two games and the third ended in a draw. At age 12, the kid's potentional is limitless, like his arrogance. It's amazing to see a 12-year-old who can take one look at anyone and feel utterly superior to them. Do chess players have agents?

Due to the startling success of the chess booth, I suggested to Josh that we start a regular chess club. We collcted the names, phone numbers and addresses of the kids interested, maybe a dozen in all. This will form a good portion of our volunteer work, hopefully. The chess thing was really one of the most fun things I've ever done. I absolutely loved it.

The Absorption Center

The absorption center we are staying in in Beersheva is called Merkaz Kleeta Ye'elim. The literature says there are 250 beds there though it seems like more. The room are decent, no AC but a decent breeze. The bathrooms are ok: the toilets have two flushes, weak and strong. The shower is an indication of the first world/third world status of Israel: super high-tech yet frequently cannot make a shower that drains properly. So we are squeegie-ing. We have two doubles and a single (we played rock paper scissors five way, I made it to the final round after opening with paper, but then lost to my buddy Brian when I opted for scissors and he countered with rock. Damn you cursed scissors!).

THe building is the longest in Israel, the Otzmanikim live down a long hallway, many of the rooms are for the immigrants. The immigrants are from all over, but most are from the former Soviet Union (particualrly Russia), Latin American (Argentina, Cuba, Peru, Ecuador, Brazil) and, remarkably, India. The Ethiopians are all at a different center because they require the most help. It's weird to see Indians, occasionally in traditional Indian garb, who are Jewish, but they are here.

The immigrants are friendly and happy to see us. They seem thrilled to be in Israel. I find it absolutely incredible that even with all the terror here, Israel has able to maintain it's status as extremely desirable for Jewish immigrants. Indeed, Israel is desperate to have them, and they are desparate to come. Some may come out of a commitment to Zionism, but most come for a bettr life, and remarkably, and though it is tough at first, Israel provides that. This makes me very proud.

The Height of Civilization

Right next to our absorption center, there is a little square with a bunch of stores. One of them has one of those machines where you can put in a sheckel to move a mechanical claw to pick up a toy. We passed by the machine one evening as a little Orthdox boy was playing, to take a close look. THe game was just as we remembered it in North America, except, the floor of the contraption was mostly bare. The prizes were, I counted, 8 little dolls and a couple dozen packs of cigarettes. This has to be the greatest thing I have ever seen. Am Yisrael Chai.

One more note about Jerusalem night life

I'm in a chair now, but the computer is on an elevated desk so I'm awkwardly craning my neck.

Last Friday and Saturday nights we went out in Jerusalem, and ended up in the same night club, called "Laila" (pronounced lie-lah, as in the Hebrew word for night). It was cool. They played only American hip hop, which was nice, though Israelis don't grind. We were dancing, a bunch of North American guys and girls, when all of a sudden a massive black man starts grinding with one of the girls (here Israeli life mimicked the US as us little Jews could not compete on the dance floor). He was huge, and you could tell by his size and features that he was clearly not Ethiopian. Sure enough, he later came to talk to all of us. He was an incredibly nice guy, an American going for his PhD at UC-Irvine and doing collaborative work at Hebrew U for a year. He said he tried to stay out of politics and pay attention to his work, and that he liked life in Israel but was unable to make close friends like he had back home.

Welcome to Beersheva/summer camp is over

The orientation of the trip was summer camp. Most of it could have been anywhere. A bunch of Jewish young adults, treated like kids, served our meals (yay), told where to go, etc. Don't get me wrong, it was fun. Summer camp is great, especially when females outnumber males almost 3 to 1. But summer is over (not weatherwise though) and it's time to get to work.

Beersheva is not really a nice town. But it's an interesting place. It's a university town with a bunch of recent imigrants. Many of the buildings are run down but it doesn't feel unsafe, though we haven't really been wandering too much. We only passed by one area that looked like Baghdad after the bombs fell, but that was on the way to an ice cream shop, so it was worth it.

The Bombing

What can I say about the bombing? Well, it didn't slow our trip to Beershva at all. We arrived perfectly on schedule. They didn't briefly change a rule: no buses for the next couple of days, even though Beersheva was supposed to be a safe city for buses. The bomber tried to board the number 9 bus, which was to be our primary bus while there. Fortunately, the smart bus driver turned him away.

Incredibly, when we drove by the site of the attack a few hours later, it appeared to be all cleared up. Business as usual. Israelis are used to this kind of event in a way that North Americans are not. It's sad.

So Much To Say isn't just a Dave Matthews song

First off, I'm ok, was still in Jerusalem when the Beer Sheva bombing went off. I'm now going to fire off a series of posts on different topics. I'm at a free computer at Ben Gurion University in Beer Sheva but there's no chair for me so my legs may get tired. Just warning you.

Back in Jerusalem, had 1 schwarma

So we're back in Jerusalem after two days of hiking through the Negev desert. We had two hiknig options on the first day, the "hard hike" and the "fun hike." The hard hike was described as mostly rocky desert which all looks the same after five minutes, the fun hike as beautiful views and river beds. With no physical reward for the effort, and since I don't believe in the whole "challenging yourself" for no reason doctrine, I proudly opted for the fun hike. I know I made the right choice. We spent one night in the Bedouin tent, a wonderfully inauthentic, hokey experience with delicious tea. We also went to the Dead Sea. I forgot how sore it makes your asshole and balls, your whole grundel area really. It's also very oily. That will be my last trip there this year.

The most Israeli Israelis we've gotten to hang out with thus far were the medic and security guards on the hikes with us. They were fairly chill, laid-back modern Orthodox guys. One in particular was very cool. I shocked him a bit when I asked if he could shoot an Ibex we encountered so I could eat it. But I told him I was kidding (though I was only half-kidding) and we bonded when we discussed how he rediscovered Judaism after spending his post-military service year in India, among the Hindus. He now wants to pursue alternative medicine.

I'm now feeling ready to start the volunteer experience. We spend shabbat in Jerusalem but then are on to our Track 1 areas, in my case Beer Sheva, without air conditioning. Jah Bless.

I had schwarma yesterday at the Dead Sea, but it was without the Pita and not very good, though I digested it fairly well. That's 1.

Looking Up to our Youth

We arrived in Israel in the evening of August 22nd, and it took me a while to realize we weren't in North America anymore. The first clue was the soldiers at our youth hostel, carrying their M-16s. I remember my last time in Israel, in April of 1999. I was 16 then, and all the soldiers I met were larger than life figures, impressive, heroic, tough. I looked up to them, they were my superiors, people I admired to no end. I still admire them, but I look at them now, and it's absolutely jarring how young they are, sometimes five years younger than I am. I think of freshmen in college, boys and girls, not men and women, I laugh at for their eagerness, awkwardness and immaturity. The freshmen class of Israel comes in each year to do the dirty work, or should I say, the real work, the honorable work of Zionism. They are so young, but they are not standing outside bars with fake IDs and gettting too drunk drinking shitty beer at keggers. They are protecting Israel. Their age humanizes them, for I remember being that young, but our experiences are so different that my admiration for them only grows. This is the biggest change in my Israel experience thus far.

a note about Schwarma

I have a bit of a problem. You see, I really love schwarma. No, I mean REALLY LOVE SCHWARMA. For those of you who don't know, Schwarma is a middle-eastern delicacy, succulent lamb (or, less authentically, beef) and vegetables wrapped in pita with hummus and tehina. Mouth-watering goodness. Now we can spend hours debating whether schwarma, like falafel, is really an Arab dish or an Israeli dish (it's clearly Arab in origin, but in a volatile region, people can come to blows over things like this) but instead I say we focus on the deliciousness.

In my fine city of Montreal, with a huge Lebanese population, schwarma places abound: Amir, Sara, Fattouch (Fat Touch) etc. And by eating schwarma, you are supporting a good cause, as 30 cents of every dollar spent at the restaurants goes straight to Hezbollah. (I jest, but even if this were the case, it would be difficult to stop going). In the downtown area, schwarma is the late-night food of choice, as places stay open long after the bars and clubs close. I went to school in Cambridge, MA, but whenever I returned home, I make a point of eating schwarma, or the equally wonderful shish taouk (the same thing but chicken) during meals or latenight. Indeed, these missions are frequently proceeded by the endless repetition of the word, in almost durg-induced frenzy, mimicking Arabic: "Schwarma, Schwarma, Schwarma!" Supplementing the schwarma are a wonderful side dish my friends and I call corrosive potatoes, so named because the spicy grease often burns through the styrofoam plates that the monster's blood through metal in "Alien."

So what's my problem? Well this summer, after graduating, I moved back to Montreal. And my family had recently moved to location near downtown, and within walking distance of not one but two schwarma places, including what I believe to be the best schwarma in the city, at "Schwarma Plus" in the food court of Place Alexis Nihon (how could the best schwarma be in a food court? This is the wonder of the great dish). And so I had a lot of schwarma this summer. At least twice a week. (if the proceeds did in fact go to Hezbollah, my patronage alone would be a worth a half dozen Katyusha rockets). And while schwarma is delicious, this is not health food. And I'm a man who already loves McDonald's and thinks vegetarianism practially immoral. Then, one day a couple of weeks ago, I was eating some corrosive potatoes after my shish taouk, (a change of pace) and a realization came to me. I liked this food too much. Indeed, I convulsed after each bite of corrosive potato, dipped in garlic sauce, as my body simply could not handle the pure pleasure. It was at that moment that I decided that In needed to mend my ways. The next time I had schwarma, I got salad on the side instead.

I leave for Israel tomorrow. And the land of milk and honey is also the land of hummus and tehina and schwarma. And I'm a little worried about my self-control. Because I will have to have it. But I will try to be careful. Here on this blog, I will keep a running tally of every time I eat schwarma, how it tastes and how I feel afterward. I don't what I'm going to do with this tally, don't know if there is some record I should try to defeat or something like that. But we'll figure something out. I'm open to suggestions.

Withdrawal in Israel, withdrawal in Iraq?

The process of withdrawing Israeli settlers from the Gaza Strip has led me to consider other Middle East withdrawals. My buddy Ezra Klein, who writes an awesome blog, has recently been writing about the possibility of a US withdrawal from Iraq. Ezra, like me, was a liberal hawk who supported the war. Unlike me, Ezra has done some serious reflection on the issue and has changed his tune. Well, he's certainly gotten me thinking. Reading his arguments, along with the articles he has linked to such as this American Prospect cover piece by Harold Meyerson attacking pro-war pundits and this brilliant critique of American foreign policy by Sherle R. Schwenninger in The Nation has been eye-opening. These articles have forced me to seriously consider not just my support for the Iraq War, but also my support of militarism in general, which, I think relates directly to my Jewish and Zionist identities.

I grew up in a thoroughly Jewish, Zionist environment in Montreal, Canada. The grandchild of Holocaust survivors and descendant and relative of many who fell at the hands of the Nazis, the war that defined my childhood was not Vietnam or even the Gulf War, but World War II. This war was a good war, a war of necessity and survival, and those who fought against Hitler, like my grandfathers and great uncle for Poland or the Red Army, were heroes.
At my Zionist high school, I learnt of other good wars: Israel's war of independence in 1948, their campaign in the Sinai in 1956, the miraculous Six-Day War of 1967 and the terrifying Yom Kippur War in 1973. Israel's wars were also wars of survival, but even more than that, they were wars fought to assert Jewish identity and pride. When I think of an Israel flag flying atop the Kotel for the first time in June of 1967, I cry tears of joy.

Because of this upbringing, I was inculcated with an inherent respect for the military. This extended beyond the IDF to America as well. Maybe this is because I loved watching G.I. Joe growing up, a Canadian envious of American patriotism. I don't know. While on domestic issues of social and economic policy I am for the most part rather progressive (more in line with Canada than the US), I retain my belief in the goodness of soldiers, often people of lower or working class background who middle and upper class people like myself often take for granted. I am not super-hawk, and my understanding of history has led me to believe that I would have opposed the Vietnam War had I been alive in the 1960s and 1970s. But when I was confronted with a war of my own to support, my distrust of Bush was overwhelmed by my sense that to help Iraqis, the region, and the world, Saddam must be overthrown. I never believed Saddam was responsible for 9/11 or had ties to Al Queda, but in my mind, I linked him with Osama, and with Hamas, and with all the forces coming from the Middle East that detests Israel and freedom. As a result, I linked in my mind the image of Israeli soldiers fighting terror to preserve the Jewish State with US soldiers fighting terror to preserve freedom. Thinking things through now, this link is probably more emotional than intellectual, though I still think there is merit to it. I'm just not sure anymore.

Perhaps I was wrong in my support for the war on Saddam. And I am certainly willing to entertain the idea of a withdrawal from Iraq. But while it's easy for me to think of Dubya as the bad guy, it's still hard for me to see American soldiers as the bad guys (excluding obvious instances like Abu Ghraib) because I link them with Israeli soldiers, who fill me with pride. Of course, there are also Israeli soldiers who let me down and commit atrocities, but at the institutional level, I hold the IDF and the American military in high regard and it is unlikely this will ever change. Linking them as I do, however, can cloud my judgement on big international issues. I hope to find more answers in Israel.

The Gaza Withdrawal: Initial Thoughts

So this year's Otzmanikim will be arriving in Israel at a very momentous time in the state's brief history. I remember supporting the withdrawal when it was proposed by Amram Mitzna when he was running for Prime Minister in 2003. I've always been a believer that because Israel is a responsible democracy, the ball is generally in its court when it comes to peacemaking, especially during the Arafat years. Have things changed since then? How does Abu Mazen aka Mahmoud Abbas aka the new guy who wears a suit instead of a kaffiyah change the equation?

I would like to hope that he has, and for the better. But I just don't know. For now, I support the withdrawal, and would like to believe that more withdrawals will follow, but hopefully ones that are negotiated, not unilateral. Cynics, of course, believe that this is a ploy by Sharon divert attention from expanding settlements and the fence in the West Bank. Some, however, who are skeptical of Sharon but nonetheless optimistic, feel that after the ball gets rolling with one withdrawal, there can only be more withdrawals to follow, if not in his government, than in another, perhaps one headed by Labor. It will be interesting to see what happens if the Likud party really falls apart and if there will be an election this fall or winter, who will run and who will win.

What should I bring?

So I'm having trouble figuring out what I should bring on this trip to Israel. I know the Holy Land is a first world country that worships modern technology, along with all the latest fashions, but I also know that things are damn expensive, somewhere along the lines of European prices. So I'm not sure how much I want to bring in terms of clothing, cosmetics and everything else. Everyone keeps telling me that in Israel, nobody has any formal-wear, that the country is very laid back and casual. This surprises me, because the Israelis I know from home are often immaculately dressed. An interesting paradox.

What is Otzma?

Shalom all. My name is David Weinfeld. For the next 10 months, starting August 21st, I will be in Israel, participating on a community service and leadership fellowship called Otzma. The 10 months is divided into three three-month long tracks, along with 3 vacations and one three-week volunteer stint with the Israeli Defense Forces (nothing military, just manual labour). Each track will take place in a different city.

The first will be in Be'er Sheva, where I, along with half of the 65 other fellows, will be living in an absorption center for recent immigrants to Israel. I will be learning Hebrew intensively for several hours each morning, monday through thursday, and then helping out in the absorption center for a couple of hours every afternoon and on Fridays. Every weekend and evening will be free, providing the fellows with an opportunity to explore the beautiful and exciting land that is Eretz Yisrael. On Sunday, there will be Otzma programming that takes us to different parts of the country to learn about different aspects of Israeli life.

In the second track, I, along with 7 others sponsored by Boston Federation CJA will staying in Haifa and performing community service full-time Monday through Friday. After the three-week stinit with the IDF, in the final track, Otzma fellows will have an internship with a non-profit, most likely in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv.

So that's the plan. I will post entries as often as I can to keep you up to date with my experiences, as well as to share thoughts, opinions and emotions about Israeli life, politics, society and more.