Israel Has Made Me Mean

After yet another terrible Al Italia customer experience (why do I fly with them again?) I found myself getting incredibly mad/defensive/argumentative. As soon as the Al Italia staff started giving me problems, I immediately switched into attack mode instead of appealing to the staff members for help (not that, on their part, any help was offered). We descended into a classic Israeli battle of wills where neither side is prepared to back down from their position.

Over the last 4 years I adopted this method of Israeli conflict as a survival mechanism to wade through the thick and tedious Israeli bureaucracy. I have also seen people succeed with sweet talk, but I’m not the kind of guy who can walk around calling everybody “sweetheart.” I have noted to several friends that while my method of dealing with this bureaucratic conflict is often successful, I hate both the way that this behavior makes me feel and the fact that such tactics are successful. In this case not only was I on the losing end (for now) of the exchange, but the instinctive conflict-oriented behavior actually prevented me from addressing the problem at hand and finding a mutually satisfactory resolution.

I had several hours on the plane to reflect on potential solutions to the problem and came to a second realization. I am not a nice person. I was a nice person once. I cared about other people’s feelings and went out of my way to lend a helping hand. I’m not quite sure how, but I think Israeli culture has slowly beaten the “nice” out of me. That isn’t to say that the “hard” behavior is without any redeeming value, but I would rather be in the default state of niceness with the ability to harden myself if necessary.

I’m trying to think of a witty line to turn this all into a funny joke. But I can’t. It’s just sad.

Overheard in the Grocery Store

A good reason not to bring your toddler shopping:

Little Girl [grabbing something from shelf]: Mommy, I want this!
Mother [looking at what the little girl has grabbed and seeing a box of menstrual pads]: Do you even know what those are?
Little Girl: Band-Aids!
Mother [reaching to take the box away]: No, they're not. This box is for grown-up women.
Little Girl [holding firmly to box, voice rising in volume and pitch]: Band-Aids!
Mother [noticing that people are starting to stare]: Hush!
Little Girl [planting feet firmly on the ground and brandishing the pads]: Band-Aids!

I thought it was funny, but the mother seemed ready to sink into the floor.

Mazal Tov

Mazal tov to our friends Gail and Alen on Alen's legal adoption of their kids, Gabi and Sasha. This is the first successful adoption by a lesbian of her partner's biological children in Jerusalem. My friends were a landmark case!

As the young, female, straight contingent at Friday's celebratory party, my friend Becky and I were elected to run the "make-up corner" for the little girls. I had the sense to run away when the brushes passed from our hands to the kids', but Becky was a better sport that I!

It's True

Confirmed. And I'm not just saying that because Michelle is my wife.

For the record, David Cook would rock Bon Jovi's "Always."

Move Over, Simon Cowell

Tomorrow will be the face-off between David Cook and David Archuleta on American Idol, which Adam and I watch regularly. In honor of this event, I will post an American Idol story that Adam never got around to posting, but will (hopefully) confirm, to corroborate my outstanding musical intuition.

Two weeks ago, we were watching the Top 4 compete, and Adam and I were discussing what song we'd like to hear David Cook sing. Adam suggested Bon Jovi, but I thought of something else. "You know, that song from the movie with the big rock...the one they played over and over on the radio that summer when we were in high school?" For some reason, this very precise description did not convey to Adam which song I meant, but we got there eventually: Aerosmith's "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," from the Armegeddon soundtrack. Adam still thought Bon Jovi would be better.

So you can imagine my self-satisfied grin when, last week, during the Top 3 competition, the producers of Idol chose "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" for David Cook to sing in the final round. Thank you, thank you. I could be a record producer.

Immigrant Takeover

Yesterday, I went to the first meeting of one of my new classes for this semester, called "Who Are We? Diaspora Jewry." There were about a dozen students in the class, many of whom I recognized from my department. As we were going over the readings on the syllabus, the professor, who is always sensitive to language issues, told us that many of the readings were available in both Hebrew and English. Then he asked for a show of hands: how many people had difficulty reading Hebrew?

To my surprise, all but three hands went up.

Soft laughter ensued as the immigrants in the room suddenly realized our majority status. But one of the native Israelis was not amused. "Difficulty reading Hebrew?" she asked, consternation in her voice, perhaps wondering whether she had misunderstood the question. As we nodded, her face registered an expression that can only be described as horrified.

I decided to take it as a compliment that, over the course of the individual introductions that had preceded the syllabus discussion, she hadn't recognized us by our accents.

One of These Things is Just Like the Others

As I flew early this morning to Rome en route to Boston on Al Italia (official motto: We find a new way to #$&* you every time) I was slightly surprised that they remembered to serve me a Kosher meal. I was very surprised to see that the Kosher meal was the exact same as the regular meal, just wrapped in plastic. Now I must admit that I normally make an effort to sleep for the entire first leg of the Israel-Italy-US journey so this may not be an infrequent occurrence, but it was similarly interesting. Really, assuming the airline is serving Israeli products, shouldn’t all of the flights out of Israel have pretty much de facto Kosher food?

Yom Ha'atzmaut

Yom Ha'atzmaut fell on a Thursday this year. Because the weekends in Israel are Friday-Saturday, this meant a three-day weekend, and Adam and I wanted to make the most it. So, after celebrating Israel's 60th in downtown Jerusalem on Wednesday night with food, music and Israeli dancing, we got up Thursday morning and headed north for a real Israeli weekend. Together with four friends, we rented a "tzimmer," a little guest house, at Moshav Amirim in the Galilee.

It was the first weekend in May, and everything was blooming and beautiful up north. This was our front porch...

...and this was the view from the porch. That's the Sea of Galilee in the background.

These next photos were taken during our Friday morning hike at Nachal Yehudiya in the Golan Heights. We climbed down the ravine to the foot of the waterfall, and Adam and Doron went swimming.

Other weekend activities included soaking in the outdoor hot tub with glasses of wine, barbecuing (and eating) enormous quantities of meat, singing, playing Taboo and generally enjoying each other's company. This photo was taken right before Shabbat: Adam, Doron (with Rosa, a local puppy who befriended us), Avi, me, Elana and Rachel.

Congratulations All Around

Congratulations are also due to my childhood playmate and (technically) step-niece, Aimee, who is also planning to get married. This photo of me with Aimee and her adorable children, Wesley and Ellianna, was taken during our recent trip to the States.

Belated Mazal Tov

While Michelle and I were in the States over Passover we made a special trip out to Enfield Connecticut. Why Enfield you might ask? Because that's where my sister and her new fiance Adam live.

Yep! Melanie got engaged during Passover! We've known Adam for years now and we all think he's a great guy, except for that fact that he's Yankees fan, and we couldn't be happier for them.

Mazal Tovs all around!

Yom Hazikaron

The things that I've always found most moving about Yom Hashoah and Yom Hazikaron in Israel are the air raid sirens. At 10:00 on the morning of Yom Hashoah, and at 8:00 on the night of Yom Hazikaron and again at 11:00 the next morning, air raid sirens are sounded in honor of the victims. People stop wherever they are and stand at attention. Cars literally stop in the street. Everyone is still together, to honor the memory of the fallen.

At least, that's how it's supposed to work. On Tuesday night, the night of Yom Hazikaron, I went outside and stood on the street to hear the siren. And, yes, cars stopped in the intersection, and some people got out of their cars, and there were people out on their flag-draped balconies standing at attention. But there was a car roaring down the street at full speed, too. The driver looked middle-aged to elderly, and I wondered...who are you? Why don't you care about this moment? It really bothered me.

Yesterday morning, during the second siren of Yom Hazikaron, I was working at Hebrew U. When the siren went off, the other woman in my office and I stood and were silent. But just outside the window, I heard loud, obnoxious chatter that lasted for the full two minutes. When the siren ended, I looked outside to see a group of four Arab university employees sitting on a bench and laughing.

On my first Yom Hazikaron after making aliyah, I was standing on Agron Street with my fellow Conservative Yeshiva students for the morning siren. The Arab construction workers on the Yeshiva campus chose to continue their work during the siren, making lots of noise and generally ruining the experience for everyone on the street. Afterwards, I confronted the worker nearest me and asked whether he had perhaps not heard or understood the siren. He responded, "Yeah, I heard it, but what do I care?"

I berated that guy, all fire and fury over his disregard, not just for the fallen Israeli soldiers, but for his Jewish-Israeli employers and for the students and passers-by who were truly mourning a loss. If Arabs in this country want to remain seated for the siren, I can understand that. But at least in Jewish environment, like the Conservative Yeshiva campus or the campus of the Hebrew University, they can sit quietly. There is no need to show that kind of disrespect to the people around you.

Still, unlike four years ago, I didn't get into a confrontation yesterday. I just sighed and went back to my business. I suppose that shows more wisdom, but it also shows a resignation that I didn't feel three years ago. And that makes me sad.

Employment!

It's official -- I have a job lined up for the fall! Starting the day after Labor Day, I will be a full-time research associate at the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies at Brandeis University. For those who aren't familiar with the Cohen Center, they conduct cutting-edge scholarly research on the American Jewish community, and they're quickly becoming the center of Jewish social research in the United States. It's a perfect match with my interests and skill set, and I'm really excited.

I'll be doing mostly quantitative research on Birthright Israel, the free 10-day trip to Israel for young Jewish adults ages 18-26. (Yes, it's really free -- paid for by private donors like Edgar Bronfman and Sheldon Adelson, as well as various North American Jewish federations and the Israeli government.) What is the impact of the Birthright Israel trip? Does it strengthen the Jewish identity of trip participants, as it was meant to do? How can the trip be leveraged into long-term communal involvement? These are the big questions on the research agenda.