All Jews…All the Time: I asked a person who had been in Israel for many years if he had any non-Jewish friends and he was actually bewildered by the question. Not only is the answer “no”, but he acted like it was a non-issue. His response, if he had had one, might have been something like this: there are Asian Jews, Spanish Jews, Persian Jews, even African-American Jews, since Jews come in all nationalities why would one ever have to go outside of the Jewish race to meet different peoples. That's a fairly harsh response to accept for a Californian like myself who has many diverse friends.
Tel Avivians vs Zealots: I like Tel Aviv and the people who live here, I’m not sure I feel that comfortable with the beliefs of the Ultra-Religious groups. But in Israel it doesn’t seem like you get to pick and chose who you defend, because an attack on any one group is perceived as an attack on the right of Israel to exist. So the Tel Avivians have kind of hooked their wagon to the fate of the Settlers' star. Put another way, I think a Tel Avivian might have more in common with an educated, upper-middle class Palestinian than they have with a religious, ultra-conservative fanatic, but, of course, it's not possible for moderate Jews and Palestinians to hang out together in Tel Aviv.
A False Premise Results in a Comfortable Society: I am inclined to believe that the underlying premise of Israel generally and Zionism specifically may be false. I don’t believe Jews are the Chosen People, I certainly don’t believe they are better than other peoples, and I’m not even sure there is such a thing as a “Jew.” I mean, how can a small town Midwestern boy like me be more Jewish than my Puerto Rican ex-wife who grew up in the Bronx, went to a Jewish-styled high school and looks more Israeli than I ever will. Despite this underlying false premise however, I feel really comfortable in Tel Aviv. I like the Jewish way people look, the Jewish way people think and the Jewish way people live here. But I also liked the way people looked, thought and lived in Berkeley and that was not an especially Jewish town.
Missing My Dad: Finally, I realized for one of the first times in many years that I missed my Dad who died in 1971 and would have had an absolute ball in Israel. When you've done fathering as I have for 35+ years, there isn't much need or time to reflect on one's own father. But as I walk around the streets of Tel Aviv, I often fiind myself engaged in a mental dialog with my Dad about so many things that he would have enjoyed seeing and talking about. I suppose that is one of the special qualities of this place that it spans generations and taps historical connections that Americans, especially those like me who have moved around a lot don't really get to develop and despite what I've said above, that's a good thing.
Ok, enough amateur sociology and psychology for now. Below are a few pictures I couldn’t fit into the previous blogs, but I thought were pretty interesting.
This toilet has two buttons on the top, a little one for flushing a little and a big one for flushing a lot, you can draw your own conclusions as to its purpose.
This peddler drives by my window every couple of days and picks up old junk from people. He yells out something in Hebrew, I think its "Junk Man."
Neat cafe with hundreds of old hard cover books from ceiling to floor on all the walls.
Anti-war poster on a wall
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