Today was Daughter Day and I took my 18 year old out to Tel Aviv for selfish reasons. My good friends are out of the country or are working or have babies and can't join me in my lengthy self-induced walking tours. And she has been asking if she could go to one of the modelling agencies in Tel Aviv to make extra pocket cash, since summer jobs are scarce and she can't find a thing here. Modelling in Tel Aviv is not as cutthroat as it probably is in New York or London. We'll give it a shot. We started out having breakfast at this quaint place - Cafe Birnbaum - in an older section of Tel Aviv with beautiful architecture that needs alot of refurbishing. The brick walls were painted white and the amount of food and salads were staggering. We know nothing about Tel Aviv - it's a city that's difficult to maneuver for me. I tried to buy a map but they were expensive. I'd just wing it by asking directions. Next stop - the modelling agency. The cops told us how to walk there which is what we did. Don't know if that was such a good idea. I had no head covering. Head coverings are for the religious, tourists and smart people not wanting to get sunstroke. I felt the fierce sun frying up my brain. I pointed out the architecture to my daughter and some of the history of the city. She had different observations. "The women in Tel Aviv have no boobs."
We got to the agency (a well known one in Tel Aviv) and she showed them the card a scout had given her about a month ago, while he was cruising Jerusalem clubs looking for new faces. It was even in the papers that he was coming to Jerusalem. She and I were shown in to see the director of the place and after measuring her pointed out that she could do photograpy but not runway stuff because she was short by 5 centimeters. He saw the photos I had taken of her and quickly rushed off somewhere with two of them. There's hope! He made a booking with her (with me trailing along) to be photographed professionally on Wednesday afternoon - so Tel Aviv, we're coming back. When I was a teenager, I always fantasized about being discovered and all that. I told her I feel as if I'm reliving this fantasy through her. The guy was realistic and told her very very few actually "make it", but that she'll make some money - not that much - and it will be a nice experience for her. Now it's up to God to see if she'll be one of the lucky ones. I explained that to her.
We bussed it to Old Jaffa and the port and the flea market and back to another restaurant - Elimelechs - in another old section of Tel Aviv where all around are lighting stores, for an early dinner where the beer is de rigeur there and where East European Jewish food comes to life. I was there a year ago and amazingly enough, the exact same people were sitting at the same spot they were sitting at one year ago. It was like time didn't move, except that they changed the funky old-fashioned checkered tableclothes more suited to a delicatessen for icky shiny brown ones. My only disappointment with the place.
Monday, August 02, 2004
Tel Aviv Wanderings
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3 comments:
Hi Leah,
I stumbled on your blog accidentally and am intrigued. Much more than intrigued. You are reminding me of vitally important things I had forgotten.
I live in the US, but if I were there, I probably would have been with the group of "left wing extremists" yelling about the human chain (that post was several days ago, but I'm commenting here so you'll be more likely to see it). Reading about your group's work, and reading the dialogue between you and your commenters, makes me cry. I'm a socialist etc., I guess to many I would be an "extremist," but also and most importantly a humanist, and I always try to stay in touch with the love and humanity that propelled me into activism in the first place. Your blog is a connection with a reality I need to remember. I need to hear the voice of someone like you, who with your group however small is still hoping and still trying, and also still living, going to flea markets and sidewalk cafes.
The more "extremist" voice in my head protests that there is a contrast between the sidewalk cafe and the life of Palestinians under siege. Yet, today is the anniversary of a massacre very near to where I live. The last remnant of a Native American nation, including elderly and children, who had been fleeing for several days, found that they were unable to continue farther; they tried to surrender and were slaughtered--every last soul--by US cavalry whose leader noted in his diary that he was "too old" to fall for the "trick" of the white flag. So who am I to judge the price of land, or the life that is lived on it? Judgment is not what is needed--it is incompatible with humanity, understanding, and hope, which are the only way forward.
As one commenter said, the non-extremists are so often much quieter, so we assume that everyone in a group agrees with the loudest person who claims to speak for them. When I hear about these terrible atrocities, it is so easy to become so angry, and the humanity of people who I see as complicit starts to slip away. With a shock, as I wrote those words, I realized that I had been letting myself become exactly like the people I had begun to hate--the ones who cannot see the humanity of "the other side." So obvious, but I didn't see it. Isn't it strange, as Amna I think said, how the parallels can be so complete and yet invisible as we fall deeper in. I must not let that happen!
Thank you for waking me up, Leah. Your courage, hope and love are inspiring, and your daily life is a fascinating window into a complicated world that, from this distance, all too often is seen in black & white. I hope you don't mind me posting all this as comments on your blog. I will remove it if you find it too intrusive or offensive in any way.
~ v
I do appreciate your long post - (gives me more to read! :-)) and thank you. I had to delve into peace work because I was also full of hate in the beginning and that wasn't getting anyone anywhere. It was just too destructive emotionally and with all this negative energy flowing back and forth, it was awful. I was curious to know what it's actually like to get to know the other. So that's when I joined the Interfaith Encounter Association and that's when I met with Palestinians for the first time and had serious conversations with them since I had arrived in Israel.
So the sense that everything slides irrevocably into worse and worse hatred, may not be accurate either. People can stop and turn back...and for simple reasons too. This can be so hard to believe in the world we see around us. My gratitude for stumbling on this blog is redoubled. Thanks again, Leah.
~V
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