Hey
So it's been awhile since I've made my voice heard, what better time than now, right? A lot has happened in the past few weeks, and I will try to give you some highlights/relevant updates. And I'll deliver em in numbered outline form. Cause that's how I'm feeling right now.
1. One night a couple of months ago I was drinking tea and playing shesh besh (backgammon) late night at my friend's Noa and Monique in the Be'er Sheva dorms. Noa was dj'ing with her i-pod and put on the one and only album by a band called HaKeves HaShisha Asar (the 16th Sheep--alluding to the 16th sheep you count when going to sleep at night). It is a children's album written by the famous Israeli poet, Yonatan Geffen, and the singers who sing his words are all famous Israeli musicians (David Broza, Yehudit Ravitz, Gidi Gov, and Yoni Rechter). Let me tell you now, when I heard these songs for the first time, התלהבתי, I immediately fell in love. Like, this album is amazing. I begged Noa for the album and when she came through with it a few weeks later, I was a very happy man. And a happy man I remain. Now, every morning I hop on my bus from home in Yerucham to class in Be'er Sheva and pop on some Keves, and my morning is brightened. I can't think of a better way to start my day. Yes, this album is for kids. And no, I do not care.
Here's a link, a sampler of one of my favorite songs:
The Prettiest Girl in the Pre-School
2. I am currently (finallllly) reading Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer, and it is excellent. Parts of it remind me of what Daniel's facebook profile looks like (filled with 'facts' about himself that are simply false but still hilarious), while others remind me a little of the movie, Borat. I'm not done with it yet, but it's prettttty good so far.
3. I took part in a really great hike over Passover break in the North. We did the first four days of the national Israel Trail from the starting point in Tel Dan to the Miron Mountains (all in the Upper Galilee). Some of you may recall that a couple of years ago Chachi, Ari, and I did the lower 40ish percent of the Shvil (trail) in 11 days. I would say that was my formative, most intense, amazing experience of my gap year. This hike was much different. It was much easier, for one thing, on reason being my absolutely excellent backpack (my 21st birthday present from the rental units) that without a doubt made hiking much better on my back and body in general. Also, the hiking we did was less intensely mountainous (though there obviously were some ridiculous inclines), and more beautiful and scenic. I hiked with Adam, Bo, and Natan, all on my BGU program, and two days in we decided to continue with another group of Israelis who were doing the same plan we were and at more or less the same pace. Basically, the hiking was incredible, and I didn't totally destroy my body like last time. Pictures from this hike (as well as a couple shots from Seder at the Shilors) can be viewed here: Passover Israel Hike 2009
4. At the culmination of the hike, we all parted ways, with the Israelis and BGU boys heading to their respective homes, and me going to the historically mystical city of Tzfat. We finished hiking only 20-25 kilometers outside of Tzfat, so I knew it would be easy to get to. Plus, my camper, Palmer Basketball Captain '08 and good friend, Nadav Teplitz, and his family live right outside of Tzfat in a tiny village of 50 families. The village/settlement/tiny town is called Amooka, and is simply gorgeous. The Hebrew word for what kind of area they live in is not actually a village or town, but a מצפה (Mitzpeh), which means Lookout. Again, I cannot stress how gorgeous this Mitzpeh is. Each family gets twoish dunams of land, on which they can build a sweet house of any size, as well as a Bed and Breakfast. בקיצור, in short, I spent the night with Teplo's family, showered, did laundry, ate a heck of a good BBQ dinner, and slept like a baby. Not only was it amazing to see Teplo and finally visit him at his house, but it should also be noted here that I beat him in a free throw shooting contest, something that should never have happened (as he is in top bball form, and I most certainly am not), but did. And I'm very happy with that. Finally, this sort of home setup is exactly the sort of place I want to raise a family. In the Galil, everything scenic and green; a small, tight knit community; and just truly beautiful. So, after I spend my years working in the realm of Negev development, I will move to a Mitzpeh in the North, and it shall be glorious.
Ok. I think that should do it for now. Tomorrow my student village is throwing a street fair literally at our doorsteps, and I need to get some shluffy time so I can get up early and help set up.
Much love,
Jonah
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Josh Guitelman
I would like to take a minute to step back from my normal topics and tell you about the passing of a dear friend:
Last night I slept in Be'er Sheva in Adam's room in the dorms, and as he had an early class this morning, he woke up before I did. As he was moving around in the room getting ready for school etc., he noticed my phone ringing and tossed it to me. Gadi was calling (for what I later saw was the 8th time in a very short span of minutes). His blurred words went something like this: "Jonah bro, sorry for waking you up, but this is really serious. Josh Guitelman passed away last night..." and the rest was just in one ear out the other. I asked him to repeat everything a couple of times just to make sure I understood correctly.
I have known Guitel since I was his age. My last summer as a camper at Camp Ramah in New England, summer 2004, my whole age group also did CIT work, and I CIT'ed for Guitel's bunk of crazy, lovable 12 year-olds. I knew I loved those kids then, and two summers later, as a junior counselor on staff in 2006, I was his counselor in bunk 57/58, the bunk of the "Bat Killers." That summer he was without a doubt one of my best and favorite campers. This past summer, in 2008, I was once again a counselor for his age group, with them now as the oldest campers in camp. Once again he proved to be an amazing camper. Easy going, a little attitude (but always listened when things got serious), the ladies loved him, an excellent Ultimate player, and most importantly, loved by all.
Guitel's Frisbee prowess had been growing over the years, and he had high hopes for excelling at the next level. Last night, life took a nasty turn. Josh was playing in a high school Frisbee match and mid game he apparently dropped to the ground, and just never got up.
When Gadi relayed this story to me this morning, I basically was in shock. I was hurt and frustrated, because I felt very aloof from my campers, my boys, whom I could not be near to console and be consoled. It has just been overall a pretty weird (in a bad sense) sort of day.
That Josh's body collapsed at such an early age is simply put, shitty.
There is no explanation. He was 16 years and 360 days old. I love Josh very much and find it hard and even partly inconceivable to think about my campers without him playing a dominant part in the picture.
We will all miss you, and already do.
Love, Jonah
Last night I slept in Be'er Sheva in Adam's room in the dorms, and as he had an early class this morning, he woke up before I did. As he was moving around in the room getting ready for school etc., he noticed my phone ringing and tossed it to me. Gadi was calling (for what I later saw was the 8th time in a very short span of minutes). His blurred words went something like this: "Jonah bro, sorry for waking you up, but this is really serious. Josh Guitelman passed away last night..." and the rest was just in one ear out the other. I asked him to repeat everything a couple of times just to make sure I understood correctly.
I have known Guitel since I was his age. My last summer as a camper at Camp Ramah in New England, summer 2004, my whole age group also did CIT work, and I CIT'ed for Guitel's bunk of crazy, lovable 12 year-olds. I knew I loved those kids then, and two summers later, as a junior counselor on staff in 2006, I was his counselor in bunk 57/58, the bunk of the "Bat Killers." That summer he was without a doubt one of my best and favorite campers. This past summer, in 2008, I was once again a counselor for his age group, with them now as the oldest campers in camp. Once again he proved to be an amazing camper. Easy going, a little attitude (but always listened when things got serious), the ladies loved him, an excellent Ultimate player, and most importantly, loved by all.
Guitel's Frisbee prowess had been growing over the years, and he had high hopes for excelling at the next level. Last night, life took a nasty turn. Josh was playing in a high school Frisbee match and mid game he apparently dropped to the ground, and just never got up.
When Gadi relayed this story to me this morning, I basically was in shock. I was hurt and frustrated, because I felt very aloof from my campers, my boys, whom I could not be near to console and be consoled. It has just been overall a pretty weird (in a bad sense) sort of day.
That Josh's body collapsed at such an early age is simply put, shitty.
There is no explanation. He was 16 years and 360 days old. I love Josh very much and find it hard and even partly inconceivable to think about my campers without him playing a dominant part in the picture.
We will all miss you, and already do.
Love, Jonah
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Hydropolitics with Clive: Sewage and Settlements
My last class on Thursdays before I'm officially on weekend is called "Water Resources of the Middle East--Negotiation, Policy and Management," with Dr. Clive Lipchin. Clive is a pretty awesome professor who DEFINITELY knows his stuff. Anyways, we were talking about (the lack of) natural, available water resources for Palestinians in the West Bank. Essentially, Israel has the money, resources, and technology to use and develop her territory's water resources, while the Palestinians do not. The whole situation is pretty complicated (surprised?) as almost every water resource in Israel is transboundary, meaning is shared by at least two territories. How does one share water when one country is at war with another? A little background: At Oslo, for the first time Israel recognized in writing the Palestinian people's rights to water (but conveniently didn't specify how much water, or what kinds of water rights). So post Oslo, the Palestinian Water Authority (PWA) was founded so that Palestinians could begin to build their own water management infrastructure and policies instead of depending on Israel. The PWA in theory is very nice, and works in conjunction very well with its Israeli counterparts in the Israel Water Authority in research projects, but when it comes to putting real projects into action, things are still basically impossible.
Clive gave our class a recent personal example. He was at a meeting with Palestinian and Israeli water experts and authorities, and the topic came to the West Bank's growing sewage problem. As mentioned before, the Palestinians in the West Bank do not have the money or technology to handle their issues, and when the sewage in the West Bank is outdated and now overflowing into other water sources, there is nothing the Palestinian Authority can do about it. So the Israelis suggest they build new sewage treatment plants--bigger, better, new technology, that would solve all the problems. The funding would be mostly foreign (probably a combination of Israeli and U.S./European) and the plants would be built either by Russia, Japan maybe--countries that build large scale projects in sewage development. Well, it is in fact a great idea...until the Palestinians bring up the fact that Israeli settlers in the West Bank would also benefit from the new facilities. So what, you ask? The Palestinians are in dire need of this new infrastructure, who cares if Israelis also benefit from it? Well, if you are in the PWA, sitting in a meeting with Israeli counterparts, representing the Palestinian people and government, can you really accept this? No, because it is official Palestinian policy to reject all West Bank settlements. Disregard the extremist, illegal Jewish outposts for a moment, the Palestinian Authority reject any and all Jewish settlement in the West Bank. These new facilities, were Jewish settlements to benefit from them, would de facto support general Jewish settlement in the West Bank, something unacceptable on the Palestinian end.
As a matter of principal, the conversation ended right there, and the Palestinian representatives walked out. Put yourself in the Palestinian position: 'I know that my people is in dire need of these facilities. I want these facilities to be built. But as long as there are Jews living on my land, I simply cannot accept it.'
Thus, you have the Israeli side coming in and saying, 'listen, we can talk about settlements later (because our governments are clearly in disagreement about this topic and how it should be resolved). Right now, there is a sewage problem that is affecting your people and mine. So let's put our politics aside and get rid of the growing humanitarian crisis.' In other words, Israel attempts to depoliticize the issue, but can't. The talks stall, and nothing is accomplished.
This is just one example of the extremely delicate, sticky, and nearly impossible to solve Palestinian-Israeli water issues that we are now starting to delve into in class. Both sides are legitimate--what would you do?
Clive gave our class a recent personal example. He was at a meeting with Palestinian and Israeli water experts and authorities, and the topic came to the West Bank's growing sewage problem. As mentioned before, the Palestinians in the West Bank do not have the money or technology to handle their issues, and when the sewage in the West Bank is outdated and now overflowing into other water sources, there is nothing the Palestinian Authority can do about it. So the Israelis suggest they build new sewage treatment plants--bigger, better, new technology, that would solve all the problems. The funding would be mostly foreign (probably a combination of Israeli and U.S./European) and the plants would be built either by Russia, Japan maybe--countries that build large scale projects in sewage development. Well, it is in fact a great idea...until the Palestinians bring up the fact that Israeli settlers in the West Bank would also benefit from the new facilities. So what, you ask? The Palestinians are in dire need of this new infrastructure, who cares if Israelis also benefit from it? Well, if you are in the PWA, sitting in a meeting with Israeli counterparts, representing the Palestinian people and government, can you really accept this? No, because it is official Palestinian policy to reject all West Bank settlements. Disregard the extremist, illegal Jewish outposts for a moment, the Palestinian Authority reject any and all Jewish settlement in the West Bank. These new facilities, were Jewish settlements to benefit from them, would de facto support general Jewish settlement in the West Bank, something unacceptable on the Palestinian end.
As a matter of principal, the conversation ended right there, and the Palestinian representatives walked out. Put yourself in the Palestinian position: 'I know that my people is in dire need of these facilities. I want these facilities to be built. But as long as there are Jews living on my land, I simply cannot accept it.'
Thus, you have the Israeli side coming in and saying, 'listen, we can talk about settlements later (because our governments are clearly in disagreement about this topic and how it should be resolved). Right now, there is a sewage problem that is affecting your people and mine. So let's put our politics aside and get rid of the growing humanitarian crisis.' In other words, Israel attempts to depoliticize the issue, but can't. The talks stall, and nothing is accomplished.
This is just one example of the extremely delicate, sticky, and nearly impossible to solve Palestinian-Israeli water issues that we are now starting to delve into in class. Both sides are legitimate--what would you do?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
A Sunday in Spring
Honestly, it's a beautiful day outside. I'm talking cool breeze, sweet sunshine, couple of cute lil clouds sorta day.
Since Thursday morning (it's now Sunday afternoon), I've been going back and forth from my bed to the toilet. It was like deciding at the beginning of the month at the train station whether you think you'd take that commuter rail every day (meaning you should buy the monthly pass) or to opt for a couple of 10 passes on the assumption that your job is only a couple days a week so it would be pointless to go all out for the monthly. Well for me, the decision was obvious--I got the 'All Inclusive All You Can Use In Any Zone In Five Days' Pass. Without going into details, I can say that it was extremely unpleasant and I literally developed internal bruises on my thighs from my elbows leaning on them for so much time. But last night, for the first time in days, I slept through the night. And then through two classes and a meeting. And I took an almost-normal poop. Hooorah!
And now, I can just sit here, on what is truly a magnificent Spring afternoon, and breathe easy. I have some Vampire Weekend blasting (bringing me back to last year's awesome Spring Break Road Trip--here's a link to that fbook album: Spring Break '08 With Columbia Broskis) and all my worries are on hold for a bit.
Missing two days of class? Fuck it. No girlfriend? No matter. Summer housing? I'll figure it out. Severe lack of money? If I turn a trick, so be it. (Wait, what?) Classes for next semester? What about em? Etc. etc.
My day would probably be complete if I refreshed my nytimes.com tab and saw that John and George were alive. Yeah, that would rule.
Since Thursday morning (it's now Sunday afternoon), I've been going back and forth from my bed to the toilet. It was like deciding at the beginning of the month at the train station whether you think you'd take that commuter rail every day (meaning you should buy the monthly pass) or to opt for a couple of 10 passes on the assumption that your job is only a couple days a week so it would be pointless to go all out for the monthly. Well for me, the decision was obvious--I got the 'All Inclusive All You Can Use In Any Zone In Five Days' Pass. Without going into details, I can say that it was extremely unpleasant and I literally developed internal bruises on my thighs from my elbows leaning on them for so much time. But last night, for the first time in days, I slept through the night. And then through two classes and a meeting. And I took an almost-normal poop. Hooorah!
And now, I can just sit here, on what is truly a magnificent Spring afternoon, and breathe easy. I have some Vampire Weekend blasting (bringing me back to last year's awesome Spring Break Road Trip--here's a link to that fbook album: Spring Break '08 With Columbia Broskis) and all my worries are on hold for a bit.
Missing two days of class? Fuck it. No girlfriend? No matter. Summer housing? I'll figure it out. Severe lack of money? If I turn a trick, so be it. (Wait, what?) Classes for next semester? What about em? Etc. etc.
My day would probably be complete if I refreshed my nytimes.com tab and saw that John and George were alive. Yeah, that would rule.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
While Trying to Read on a Train
On the train sometime back,
brought my journal. Forgot my pen. Shit. Oh well, here goes from memory:
Danny apologizes to Etty via phone, "Sor-ry, Etty, lousy connection on this train, see..."
A buxom woman, Michal, sits directly in front of me, juggling phone calls from lover(s) on one cell and workmates on the other. Her voice alternates from cooing to bitchy by the minute.
Nissim sits across the isle horizontally, taking up three of four seats in his compartment--two seats on his side, see, with one foot perched diagonally onto the third. Says to his Pops so loud that the whole car can hear him, "Pops, what d'you want from me? Next time you bring the goods to us!" All the while the Hareidi fellow sits cornered by the diagonal foot in the fourth seat of the compartment, none too pleased, just judging by the look on his face.
Michal and Nissim, when not on the phone, seem to be in a never ending duel of who can twiddle their fancy device faster than the other, though odds are they don't know it, as they never make eye contact with each other. A pity, as they probably would have hit it off. Or maybe not--everybody knows both parties in a relationship can't have too big a head, it leads to too much fight for space and podium, see.
All the while Sari's three children, God knows what their names are, have not stopped running down the isles, screaming, ducking, jumping, and crying. But mostly just screaming. It is, after all, Purim, and they are excited.
And the Thai foreign worker continues to shout what seem to be obscenities at someone on the other line, overshadowing the teenage soldier speaking quietly in Spanish to who knows who (a lover? a mother?), in an accent I try for 15 minutes to identify but in the end can only determine is not Colombian.
And although I am initially frustrated by the raucous chatter on this late afternoon Direct from Be'er Sheva to Haifa, I don't hold it against any of my co-passengers. After all, it is Purim, and I am going to Haifa to see my old stomping grounds, to be with old friends, and to be right ole merry.
brought my journal. Forgot my pen. Shit. Oh well, here goes from memory:
Danny apologizes to Etty via phone, "Sor-ry, Etty, lousy connection on this train, see..."
A buxom woman, Michal, sits directly in front of me, juggling phone calls from lover(s) on one cell and workmates on the other. Her voice alternates from cooing to bitchy by the minute.
Nissim sits across the isle horizontally, taking up three of four seats in his compartment--two seats on his side, see, with one foot perched diagonally onto the third. Says to his Pops so loud that the whole car can hear him, "Pops, what d'you want from me? Next time you bring the goods to us!" All the while the Hareidi fellow sits cornered by the diagonal foot in the fourth seat of the compartment, none too pleased, just judging by the look on his face.
Michal and Nissim, when not on the phone, seem to be in a never ending duel of who can twiddle their fancy device faster than the other, though odds are they don't know it, as they never make eye contact with each other. A pity, as they probably would have hit it off. Or maybe not--everybody knows both parties in a relationship can't have too big a head, it leads to too much fight for space and podium, see.
All the while Sari's three children, God knows what their names are, have not stopped running down the isles, screaming, ducking, jumping, and crying. But mostly just screaming. It is, after all, Purim, and they are excited.
And the Thai foreign worker continues to shout what seem to be obscenities at someone on the other line, overshadowing the teenage soldier speaking quietly in Spanish to who knows who (a lover? a mother?), in an accent I try for 15 minutes to identify but in the end can only determine is not Colombian.
And although I am initially frustrated by the raucous chatter on this late afternoon Direct from Be'er Sheva to Haifa, I don't hold it against any of my co-passengers. After all, it is Purim, and I am going to Haifa to see my old stomping grounds, to be with old friends, and to be right ole merry.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Decorating
Tonight Josh, Tali, and I embarked on our first serious caravan decorating expedition.
We took a dope poster I picked up in Jerusalem with a sketch of David Ben Gurion and a quote, photographed it, put it on my computer, hooked it up to a projector, and sketched it on our bare common room-kitchen-chill area of our caravan. Let's be honest, it looks pretty sweet.
Next we need to fill the rest of the walls so we don't have a lonely sketch and nothing else...
Shout Out2
Dirty J and Gingy K:
You are both sorely missed in this country, come back and visit (or stay)!
You are both sorely missed in this country, come back and visit (or stay)!
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