Category: Israel

Israel

The Other Boy

This blog isn’t and was never meant to be political. The things that happen in this part of the world are way too complicated for me to grasp. I don’t know enough to be able to write about them.

But last week I wote about the three boys when their bodies were found. So today I need to write about the other boy because we have now discovered that he was probably murdered by Jews.

Last week I explained why the three boys and their families feel like our family. This boy doesn’t feel like family. BUT he was an innocent human being who shouldn’t have died. His family shouldn’t be suffering now.

Every single comment I’ve read about this today has said the same thing. We Israelis are devastated by this news. Because a young life has been lost. Because we feel compassion for his family. And because we thought this wouldn’t happen in Israeli society.

We are not taught to hate our neighbours. We’re taught to fight terrorists, but not ordinary human beings. If there is any part of our society that is promoting hatred, it needs to be rooted out. We need to stop these elements now.

That is what I think and it echoes all the comments I’ve seen today.

Tags hatred, murder

Books Israel

The Fire in Senses

This time last week we were just recovering from the forest fire that damaged our garden and threatened our house.

Things move so fast in Israel that it feels much longer ago. I look out of my office window at green leaves gently swaying in the breeze, the sunlight dancing on them. But overhead I can hear the drone and whirr of a helicopter as it comes and goes. Perhaps that sums up what it’s like here. Life could be so pleasant if it weren’t for all those unpleasant things. I can’t block out the noise of the helicopter any more than I can block out the awful news, try as I might.

But I wanted to think back to the fire and try to describe it as a writer should, using all my senses.

Sight

This is always the obvious one and the only one I can demonstrate to you.

Each time we looked out, it was closer to us. We saw flames shooting up and clouds of grey and black smoke. The flames made us scared. No, we didn’t take any photos from the house. This was after we left it.

As we climbed the hill to get away from the fire, we saw fire engines racing towards it. At the top of our road, a barrier showed it was closed to ordinary traffic.

Now we survey our view of the Jerusalem Forest and see brown where there should be green, all caused by people who weren’t careful.

Sound

We didn’t hear the fire. The main sounds were the sirens of the fire engines. In my childhood, fire engines sounded a bell. No longer. Now they sound like all other sirens. Two ear-piercing tones a major fourth apart.

Another sound that accosted us as we gazed from a safe distance was of planes droning by. Their sound caused us to watch them as they dropped toxic materials on the fire.

Since the fire, there has been a new sound. The leaves of the tall tree that overhangs our garden now rustle in the wind.

Smell

This was the first sense that alerted us to something as yet unidentifiable. “What’s that burning smell?” I asked my son as we sent off our online shopping order. “No idea,” he said going off, but a few minutes later he came back to look out from the balcony. He’d heard the first news report of the fire.

When we returned home after the fire, the smell of burning was all around us.

Touch

The fire had burnt a hole in the plastic cover of the table-tennis table. The area around the hole felt brittle.

We had to sweep ash away. Little fragile bits, hardly felt, that crumble in your hand, or would have done if I’d tried to pick them up with my hands.

Taste

The only taste I remember was of the restaurant meal we had while away from the house. I chose broccoli pie. It came with salad and was very tasty indeed. After that I had some cheesecake, sweet and cheesy.

~

You know that question: what would you take with you if there was a fire and you had to get out of the house in a hurry? And the person – there aways is at least one – who says, “If there’s a fire, you don’t take anything. You just get out as fast as you can.”

Well, we had time because the fire didn’t start in our house. We took laptops, passports, phones, money, cards, etc. Fortunately we were able to bring them all back later.

Tags fire, flames, garden, house, smoke, what to take

Israel

Our Boys

I was at folk dancing yesterday evening when the news broke. We were dancing to a lively song. No one was taking much notice of the large screen that usually shows the lyrics of the songs we dance to but, because of the World Cup, showed the TV programmes.

One match had just finished and the news took its place. Gradually people started to point to the screen. One by one people stopped dancing and gathered round the screen to stare at the awful words at the bottom.

The bodies of the three teenagers have been found.

For eighteen days we had been hoping, talking, writing, tweeting with the hashtag #BringBackOurBoys. We knew the best outcome would be to find them and bring them back. The next best outcome would be one of those prisoner exchanges – thousands of violent criminals, including murderers, in return for our three innocent boys, two of them only sixteen years old.

But the final outcome was the worst of all. Perhaps, in our hearts, it was the one we expected the most, but it was also the one we all hoped wouldn’t be.

Why did we care so much about three boys, with faces and names the vast majority of us didn’t recognise three weeks ago? Because, although we argue with each other as much as a nation can, although we often don’t care for others as we should, when something like this happens we become one big family. Those boys become our boys, the parents our brothers and sisters.

That lively song was soon turned off. For the rest of the evening we danced to slower, sadder songs. Most people left early and the dance session ended earlier than usual.

As they say, normal service will be resumed. Next week we will dance as usual. But we won’t forget what happened to our boys.

Tags #BringBackOurBoys, folk dancing, kidnapping, one big family

Books Israel

Worlds Apart

My world and your world. Their world and our world. Where am I? Where are you? Where are they?

Somewhere, further down in this post, I will talk about tomorrow’s book launch. If you don’t want to read my prattle, you can go there now.

Things used to be easier in the old days. Worlds kept themselves separate. Facebook brings them all together. It’s hard.

One minute I’m reading about the topic that’s uppermost in the mind of all Israelis. Three teenagers were kidnapped by terrorists. Parents look at their children, knowing it could have been them. How can a sixteen-year-old cope with being held by people who want us all dead?

The next minute, without even scrolling or clicking, I see a joke and I try to laugh. Then there’s a beep and I have to read and comment on a totally unrelated topic. Yes, have to, because it’s part of my job of being a writer. I have to look away from my world and become part of yours for a while.

Yes, I know it’s happened to you, to. There was 9/11, 7/7 and all the rest. But when those things happened, all the worlds were feeling similarly shocked. Now, it’s just us. For everyone else it’s business as usual. Who cares about three boys?

Then there’s their world: the world of those who are euphoric over the news. I see that, too, when people post their pictures and comments, before I look away in disgust.

But I really wanted to talk about another world, one that is right here in Jerusalem. The other day, I walked into the haredi world to take pictures. But when I was there, I didn’t feel good about photographing them, even though no one took any notice of me at all.

Signs that make me feel unwelcome, Mea Shearim

I hurriedly snapped a few photos and escaped from another world where I don’t belong.

Esty, the heroine of Neither Here Nor There, did belong there. She grew up there. Her family and friends and everyone who knew her expected her to remain in that world for the rest of her life.

And they expected her to meet her future husband two or three times, sitting far apart from him so as not to touch him by mistake, before making a decision about whether to spend the rest of her life with him.

If you look carefully below the Old City walls that are lit for the Jerusalem Festival of Lights, you can make out the man on the left and the girl on the right of the bench

In my novel, I don’t make any judgements. My characters make judgements occasionally, but mostly this is a novel of discovery. The characters find out about the other world on their doorstep.

I’ve said enough for now. If you want to join in tomorrow’s festivities, which will include a competition, go to this Facebook page. You can join it now.

Tags book launch, competition, Facebook, Haredi, Jerusalem, kidnapping, Mea Shearim, Neither Here Nor There

Israel

Purim, Now and Then

Yesterday was Purim in Jerusalem, one day later than in most other places because Jerusalem is a walled city.

Purim is the festival for fancy dress. It commemorates the time, in the ancient Persian Empire, when the Jews were going to be exterminated but were saved in the end.

In the walled city of Shushan, fighting continued through the normal day of Purim. Hence the later celebration in Jerusalem and a few other walled towns.

I went out to survey the scene. Fortunately it wasn’t raining, although the sky was rather grey.

Children and parents watched a show.

In Safra Square, a dubious-looking wolf towered above the crowds.

As I was leaving, I saw two Arab women going in to watch.

I wouldn’t have taken any notice of them, but I know people who don’t live here would probably be surprised.

Even babies were dressed up.

And cyclists.

And Haredim.

I also looked back a few years and pulled out this picture probably taken when I was four.

I’m dressed as Queen Esther, who helped to save the Jews of Persia. I don’t really remember dressing up then. But I remember that horse. It was the best part of the kindergarten. Every time the toys were brought out – usually outside in the playground – I rushed to bag that horse and loved bouncing up and down on it. It didn’t move much, but it did move forwards and I loved it.

Here I am again, in the middle of the back row, older and probably Queen Esther again:

What I notice most about this picture is how short I was, although I’m not short now. Short, young and innocent. A recipe for trouble.

The end of Purim marks the start of a month of spring cleaning leading up to Passover. Somehow, I always put it off until I find myself in a panic. Will this year be any different? I doubt it.

Tags fancy dress, Persia, Purim, Queen Esther, Safra Square, Shushan, toy horse

Israel

Exterminate!

No, this post is not about daleks. It’s about something real and serious. It’s about what the Israeli government is doing to a part of its population.

There. I said it. All those things you heard on the news are true.

NO!

But that’s what the sign said. I read it. I needed to walk along the String Bridge on my way from one errand to the next, this morning. I looked down at the area where yesterday a sea of black hats swayed in prayer and demonstration and there it was: EXTERMINATION.

OK, so they don’t actually mean they’re being exterminated. They mean that what the government is planning to do to them will cause them to cease to exist as they do now.

And what is this evil government plan? The government wants to conscript all young people, including those who belong to the Haredi community. That doesn’t necessarily mean conscription to the army. It can also be for what’s called here National Service or what you might call Community Service. All the government is saying is that one law should apply to all. All young people should give two years of their time to serve the community or the country.

And probably, if those young people from the Haredi community are conscripted in this way, it will change the whole community in certain ways. I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing.

Tags conscription, Haredi, Jerusalem

Israel

I’m No Botanist

Last month, when I wrote this post, I made two mistakes. I said we have no almond tree in our garden and I said almond trees always blossom on the festival of Tu B’Shvat and there didn’t appear to be any near our house.

Wrong!

The almond trees blossomed late this year, or Tu B’Shvat was early, or both. There has been plenty of almond blossom around here for the past couple of weeks.

There is an almond tree in our garden, it turns out, and now that the blossom has nearly all gone, I’ve got round to taking a photo.

No, not that. That’s part of a plum tree.

Yes, that. At least, I think that’s an almond tree. So much for my foray into botany!

In my next post, I’ll tell you about the excellent writing workshop I attended yesterday, when I’ve worked out what I want to say about it. At least writing is something I know a little bit about.

Tags almond tree, botany, plum tree, Tu B'Shvat

Books Israel

Places in NHNT

My novel, Neither Here Nor There, due to be published later this year, describes several places in Jerusalem that I’ve mentioned before on this blog. Like the market, Machane Yehuda.

Jaffa Road and the light railway (which has been going for two and a half years).

The German Colony, which I mentioned here.

Yemin Moshe, where I used to live, and which I described here and here and here.

There are some other places in Jerusalem that get a mention in the novel. I’ll have to photograph them, too.

There are also places in London that feature in the novel. I haven’t taken photos of them and they’re a bit far away from me for a quick snapping session.

Place can often drive a novel. It certainly drives mine.

Nothing can happen nowhere. The locale of the happening always colours the happening, and often, to a degree, shapes it.

~ Elizabeth Bowen

Tags Elizabeth Bowen, German Colony, Jaffa Road, Jerusalem, light railway, London, Machane Yehuda market, Neither Here Nor There, Yemin Moshe

Israel

My First Demo

I’ve always kept away from demonstrations before, but I decided to give this one my support.

Our local supermarket has been charging too much for years. It’s part of a chain, but they manage to charge higher prices by using different names. So the prices in Supersal Deal in a neighbourhood not so far away are much lower than the prices in our Supersal Sheli.

The management give reasons for these differences, but it’s clear that the real reason is that our Supersal has no competition. Also the population of our neighbourhood includes a lot of old people, who are unable to travel far to buy food.

Several of them came to the demonstration.

So did groups of young people who shouted out the slogans.

Placards were displayed.

Someone stood outside the supermarket telling people not to go in, or to buy the bare minimum.

The Arab woman sold her wares as usual, unperturbed.

And Michael & Shimrit Greilsammer, a well-known duo, sang and played.

I hope Supersal agree to lower their prices.

Tags demonstrating, Jerusalem, Kiryat Hayovel, Michael & Shimrit Greilsammer, Supersal

Books Israel

Ayelet Tsabari and Place

Ayelet Tsabari “was born in Israel to a large family of Yemeni descent. She grew up in a suburb of Tel Aviv, served in the Israeli army, and travelled extensively throughout South East Asia, Europe and North America. She now lives in Toronto.”

What better person to run a one-day writing course entitled: Wish you were here; writing about place? That’s what Ayelet did on Thursday and I was fortunate enough to be able to attend it.

These are the main points she made:

Research well.
Use details to introduce a place.
Don’t overwrite. Pick the most appropriate and vivid details and the most precise words to describe them.
Use all five senses.
Introduce a place gradually.
Let the description unfold as the character moves through the scene.
Place is deeply connected to the emotions of the characters. Their experience of the place is influenced by their feelings, state of mind, mood and judgment. In describing a place, choose words that reflect the character’s emotions.

All the points were illustrated with examples and there were also exercises. It was a most enjoyable and profitable day.

The Amazon page for Ayelet’s book – The Best Place on Earth: Stories – contains a link to an excerpt from one of her stories and I can tell you it’s good! You can read it at amazon.com or amazon.co.uk.

On the way to the course, I had my own struggle with place. The course took place in the small town of Beit Zayit, at the home of Judy Labensohn, another writer, who is running the next course in the series, which I’ll be blogging about soon. I decided to drive there via Ein Karem – not such a good idea as it turned out, although I had the best of reasons. I wanted to avoid the morning traffic jams, and the route I chose did look the shortest.

Two unrelated problems held me up. Firstly, the road to Ein Karem, one on which we have travelled many times, was not there. What a weird feeling! It wasn’t that the road was blocked off. It was as if there had never been a road there.

I had to come to my senses quickly enough to decide to turn left and get to the other road to Ein Karem – through morning traffic jams, of course.

Then I missed the road I wanted to take to Beit Zayit. In fact, I think I saw the road but there was no sign on it and it probably isn’t possible to reach Beit Zayit that way. So I ended up in Mevasseret and had to turn towards Jerusalem and turn off at the main road to Beit Zayit. Fortunately, I’d left plenty of time for this journey (or so I thought) and arrived only one minute after the starting time. Next time, I’ll make sure I find the best way of going, and one that exists!

I’ll be blogging about place again, soon – as a guest blog for my friend, Sue Barnard, whose first novel, The Ghostly Father, is about to be released.

Tags Ayelet Tsabari, Beit Zayit, Ein Karem, place, Sue Barnard