I woke up with an Olympic sneeze (again) this a.m., went outside and did a bit of yardwork. Next up, I decided to declare July the International Month of Focaccia! After all, somebody had to do it! The house was still cool, so I got busy in the kitchen, following a totally simple recipe, (especially if you don't bother to read the directions), to which I added about 3/4 of a cup of green olives (a 1/2 cup, coarsely chopped and incorporated in the dough + a 1/4 cup for topping), a little diced red onion and some sliced Roma tomatoes on top ~ and came up with this:



Ten minutes of work and fifty minutes of waiting and, voilà! ~ the world is a better place!

Tags: focaccia, kosher, vegan
Current Music: Brahms: Symphany No. 3 in F, Opus 90 (Bernstein, Vienna Philharmonic)

I feel wherever I go that tomorrow is near

During my last weeks in Tel Aviv, I mostly thought about the leaving part and almost not at all about what I would do after my arrival except that I determined to approach the transition from Israel to Oregon with more silence than commentary and wait to see what would unfold. At this point, I've already been in the U.S. for about three weeks and it's been entirely pleasant (except for seasonal allergies that are a major feature of life in the Willamette Valley). Strangely, as much as I've missed friends here in Oregon, until last night, I hadn't seen anyone except family. It felt like I just needed to lie low for a bit and that seems to have been the best decision I made in ages. Now, I feel ready to come out of my cave and explore new possibilities. I had a dream last night which ended with a line from one of everyone's favorite presocratics, Herakleitos:

It is in changing that we find purpose.

Yesterday, after work and on her way to massage school, my sister dropped me off down by the river where I hopped a bus into Portland to meet an old friend at the university's Dialogue Dome which is a cool, little cob structure with an eco-roof that is alive and growning. We got a chance to catch up, meet my friend's parents and nieces, play in the park and take a look at פרשת השבוע this week's Torah portion. My friend and I ended up talking until 4 in the morning. I slept a few hours and dragged myself out of bed and have been in an Ogden Nash frame of mind all day. Oregon has been warmer than Tel Aviv, but that puts me in the mood to bake. Maybe I'll whip up something Mediterranean for a late supper.

Ute Lemper, I'm a Stranger Here Myself
from Kurt Weill, Ogden Nash's One Touch of Venus)

Tags: kurt weill, ogden nash, ute lemper
Current Music: מלכה אינגדשט תחת עינייך

Shavuah tov! I've already been in the Pacific Northwest for twelve wonderful days. My sleep pattern is still whacked and hay fever is kicking my tuchus, but other than that, all is well. After the first few days which I spent with Erin and Kathy in Washington, I have been staying with my sister, Loren and my niece, Lindsay here in Oregon City, the town in which I grew up. Except for a foray to the supermarket for provisions and to Radio Shack to get a new adaptor for my computer, I've mostly just been hanging out around the house, gardening a bit, and exhaling.

On one of my last evenings there, I had a visitor in my kitchen: a sand gecko. Years ago, when I was a member of Kibbutz Elifaz, I used to play piano in the evening and the geckos ducked in to visit. The appearance of a gecko is a good omen.



My sister is in massage school now, and I have been volunteering to be her guinea pig. Last night, I even got a little bit of a spa treatment, including a salt scrub for my feet and and then hands and feet dipped in paraffin wax. Yesterday, it was over 100 degrees F./38 degrees C. - warmer than, but not nearly as humid as Tel Aviv. (I am not missing summer in Tel Aviv in any way! I wonder how Matan and Shira are settling in in my old flat. I hope they will be as happy there as I was). I've mostly been sitting out on my sister's back porch a lot, watching the sky and thinking. This afternoon, it got strangely dark all of a sudden. Then, just when Loren suggested that we might get some rain, we had a thunder storm. It was rather amazing to daven mincha as the lightening was flashing!

In the spring of 1975, I read Auden for the first time. When I was in Jerusalem a few weeks ago with Nava, I remembered one of the poems I set to music all those years ago. We decided to walk the wall around the Old City (built by the Ottoman sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent in 1538), from Jaffa Gate northward to Lions Gate. We got a really different perspective of the city from up there. The first part of the walk is along one side of the Christian Quarter. Later, when we were in the Muslim Quarter, some guys threw large rocks at us. I've been on buses that were stoned, but felt pretty vulnerable up on the wall.

Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: Savina Yannatou

Yesterday morning about 2:30, I knocked on my Tel Aviv neighbor's door. After he blinked "hallo?" and did his wake up dance, he went to fetch the car and took me to Ben Gurion airport.  Thanks, Nicholas!

The trip to Istanbul is a hop, skip and a jump. They fed us breakfast (kosher vegan!) and - hoppa! - we were already there.  The Istanbul airport was about the only excitement I had on the trip. Every place that one could be pulled aside for a security check, I was, including being taken into a special room for a strip search.  No matter how matter of fact and disinterested in a practiced, professional, even friendly manner the two guys were, that little invasion involved latex gloves. It turns out that I am not involved in drug smuggling, terrorism or international espionage. About 10 minutes later, I was laying tefillin and davening shaharit (morning service).

For the Istanbul-New York leg of the trip, I was joined by a group of teachers from Kazakhstan and 100 or so of their teenage boy charges who were on their way to an English-language camp. They were very excited but quiet.  I don't know what they - or the other passengers (there were a few others) - are used to eating, but they seemed to pick at their meals.  I, on the other hand, was served two hearty, gourmet vegan meals (stuffed grape leaves, humus, a pepper-tomato sauce over baked veggies with a mujaddra-esque pilaf, three salads and fresh pears and yellow rasins for dessert).  Compensation for having been strip-searched? You tell me. Yummy? I all but licked the plate.  The envy in the eyes of my flesh-consuming fellow passengers was priceless.

On Turkish Airlines, periodically we were treated to sessions of "Aerobics" - a series of exercises which passengers can perform in their seats.  At first, we were amused. Some of the little kids joined in.  By the fourth time around (about 7 hours into the trip) we were all enthusiastically following along.  Picture the chicken dance.  So, by the time I arrived at JFK and despite the 10+ hours on board, I was feeling great.  I found myself with about 5 hours to "stretch my legs" in NY.  I had kind of expected to be questioned by a post-9/11 US airport staff after having lived in the Middle East for the last four years. Zip. Nada. Zilch. A glance at my passport and "welcome home" was all I got. Nice. Maybe they talked to the Turks talked to New York?

Since my standard, under-weight limit luggage was checked through from Tel Aviv all the way to Portland, I didn't get to find out if the rumors about Delta charging passengers to travel with luggage are true.  I was not charged for a seat-belt. The complimentary peanuts were $3.00.  I declined the offer. Pillows and blankets were only available in first class. The seats in coach did not recline. Turkish Airlines  provides passengers with  grey socks  to keep one's toes toasty; a sleep masque; ear plugs; a toothbrush and toothpaste.  I brushed my teeth, put on the socks and masque and dozed off until the  humorous announcement to "return" our seats to their full, upright positions for the descent into Portland.

When I got off the plane, Erin was there to meet me. My sister, Loren and my niece, Lindsay were there, too. A wonderful surprise!  Now, I am staying with Erin for a few days in rural Washington. Her dogs came to see me this a.m. after the best night's sleep of my life. It is so quiet here! I can see chickens and roosters outside the sliding glass doors and I get to meet the horses soon. Erin brought me an amazing vegan breakfast bar she made and hot coffee. Now, I really shoud try to pry myself from bed.

Tags: aerobics, istanbul, kelso, latex, new york, portland, tel aviv, turks, vegan food
Current Location: new continent
Current Mood: rejuvenated

(Matan, notice the proud cow!)

I don't know what it is. Today is Pride in Tel Aviv. There have been rainbow banners up all over town. I just wasn't up for it this year. I know that I'm supposed to be Israeli by now and carry on with business as usual, but after Gaza fired 10 Qassam rockets and six mortars at us, causing injury, shock and damage, I didn't feel colorful enough to march. Besides, even though Shabbat comes in late these almost summer days, there's plenty to do before hand. So, except for a foray to the שוק market, I stayed home to cook, clean and pack boxes. I am also trying to figure out if my tallit and tefillin will fit into my laptop bag (along with the computer!) as my carry on. I'm hoping to only take one large suitcase (checked) plus my computer and guitar as carry ons.

The highlights this week centered around friends and food: meeting the revolutionary Sigal and "experiencing" Abu Hassan with Eric, another yummy vegan meal prepared by my flesh-eating buddy, Mashav, hanging out in Jerusalem with Shira and her brother, Ari who were on their way to sushi, and Italian food with Avi last night here in Tel Aviv.

Before the sushi binge


Shabbat Shalom!

Tags: friends, missiles, mortars, packing, pride
Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Toshi Reagon: How Long?

My days are filled with boxes and good byes. I've been doing some yoga to release the tension in my chest. It is terribly sad to leave this place and these people. I do not know if I will ever return but I believe that I am doing the right thing by leaving now. I've been incredibly touched by the love and support friends and family have shown me.

I met with my 5th grader this evening. For the past year, it's been my delight to work with her each week, sometimes in Arabic but mostly in English. When I came around this evening, she was focused on a report she was writing about the adventures of her grandmother from Syria. After the lesson, she gave me a poem and an amulet.



Jewish amulets are difficult to read at best. For instance, the names of the five angels, Uriel, Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and Nuriel might be invoked but, either in order to save space or to somehow concentrate the power and so increase the efficacy of the amulet, the five names would usually expressed in the single word, Argaman, constructed from the first letters of their Hebrew names: ארגמן aleph-resh-gimmel-mem-nun, which also means 'purple.' There is a butte behind Kibbutz Elifaz called אַרְגָּמָן  Argaman because it turns purple at sunset. The one my student gave me comes from a Kabbalistic formula by which 72 names are created by combining the letters of the aleph-bet. This one, mem-hey-shen, is for healing and health.

Go for the throat.jpg

When I used to go for acupuncture, I would study the wall chart of points while I was getting needled. I marveled how anyone could possibly remember them all, let alone what each one did and how they worked in concert. I do not think I am a particularly superstitious person, but I began asking myself if it were the amulet or all that yoga that was working its charm on my chest. Then, I looked at the second photo and wondered what acupuncture point was beneath the amulet that I have been fingering all evening as my thumb massaged the notch underneath. I think that it is a point on the Conception Vessel Meridian, CV 22, which is for chest tightness!



This is my new 'orange amulet' which bikelovejones built for me. It was love at first sight! Tears rolled down my face when I first saw it. Yesterday, gas prices went up in Tel Aviv. A gallon of premium now costs US$9.00 and a gallon of diesel is $11.50. Incredible.

Tags: acupuncture, amulets, boxes, yoga
Current Mood: touched
Current Music: גלעד שגב: עכשיו טוב

On her last day in Tel Aviv, Jutta and I walked about the city talking, snapping photos of bike path with bikelovejones in mind. We spent a lovely hour at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art where we got to see an exhibit of paintings by Avraham Naton, some impressionists and a couple of Magritte paintings. There were a few Kandinsky pieces I loved and a small stone sculpture by Henry Moore. We went to my favorite French bookstore on King George Street. A sign on the door the door invoked Magritte:

Tags: bike paths, jutta, tel aviv
Current Mood: relaxed

I woke up luxuriously late this a.m., brewed some joe and sat, blinking as my soul slowly slid back into my body. My houseguests of the last two weeks are gone. As I was sizing up what I need to do to get ready for Shabbat, I was poking around in the closet and found a pair of my old opinci (sometimes called opanke or opanki, they are leather - not vegan! - footwear), from the days when I used to dance in various ensembles, including a Macedonian troupe with whom I performed one year at the annual Northwest Folklife Festival in Seattle.


Mine are the pointy style without the cool Serbian gondola curl.

There is a great Israeli Balkan music and dance site (in English) called DUNAV which has lots of ethnographic information, costuming, recordings, videos, and sheet music. There is lots of amazing music in mp3 format for free, legal download.

Here is a clip of dances from Serbia performed by the Montenegrian Ensemble Igalo. Why Serbia? Tomorrow night is the finale of the Eurovision Song Contest which is being held this year in Belgrade where Israeli singer, Boaz Mauda will win hearts. The video begins with a good shot of opinci.

Tags: boaz mauda, folkdance, igalo, macedonia, opanke, serbia
Current Mood: wiped out

Recently, as nomadmatan noticed, I seem to have all but abandoned this blog. I think that the last time I jotted anything here was half a month ago during פסח Passover. Work responsibilities (tying up the final loose ends of the book on Libya) and very minor health issues (I've started physical therapy for my right shoulder. In the end, the rotator cuff is in good shape and this is largely re-education) are causing a time crunch. Mostly, though, I have been busy with my decision to leave Israel. It is not a decision if there is only one viable choice or deciding factor. Thanks to tremendous help from friends on both sides of the sea, I will be Oregon-bound in less than six weeks. In the meantime, there is much to do, but mostly, people with whom I want to spend time. On Sunday evening, Jutta is coming up from Cairo!

Ages ago, I lived with writer Gregory Manin. He spoke to me once about his approach to the alchemy of transforming life into art and the necessity of letting time work its magic on the raw ingredients of experience and feeling. (Of course, perhaps he was just being polite as I imagine I probably had asked him if he ever wrote about me). I do not know what to say about the subtle, inner homecoming which has taken place for me during these past four years in Israel. I only know that it has not taken me in any of the directions I would have predicted or consciously desired. Situations, events (terrorism, war, strikes, roommates, health and the faint indirections of the heart), my work and my studies here already seem to have been largely a backdrop for this transmutation. I cannot imagine my life, however, without the catalyst and the blessing of friendships I hold so dear.

Hail, Abu Hassan! This is everything humus should be!
Check out this yummy food blog!

Last week, Avi took a day free from school and work and we set off on a trip. Ostensibly, we were headed to Jerusalem. While I love to go to the City, I mostly just wanted to enjoy the day with my friend, especially not knowing how many more we will have together for the time being. We found ourselves going south into Bat Yam instead of east, up to Jerusalem. Rather than get tangled up in the industrial jungle of Holon, we doubled back through Jaffa and stopped for a late breakfast at Abu Hassan's. (Such humus and fuul I surely will not find in Portland!). Eventually, with bellies full, we were on the road again.

We stopped along the way at the Trappist Abbey of Latroun which is in the foothills, midway between Jerusalem and the coast. The French Abbaye Notre Dame def Sept-Fons sent monks to the Land of Israel in 1889 to establish a contemplative monastic community. One hundred and nineteen years later, Latroun is still primarily a French community. They support themselves by producing honey, olive oil and a variety of wines: Gewurztraminer, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, and a Muscat à petit grains (a kind of Muscat from Alsace).

Latroun

Thomas Merton Itai Michael

The church is elegantly austere inside. What can I say? Stone really works for me. We arrived in time for Mass. Chant and incense mingled, drifting upwards. I'd like to think that their celebration of the liturgy is this beautiful everyday. It was, however, the Feast of the Ascension. In many ways, this is a picture of my life: the mystery mix of faith, music, languages, intentional community, gardening; the family of choice, the intense yearning and the solace of silence.

Eric was here the other day. He's living in Haifa, but had been camping in the desert. He asked me if I had some Walt Whitman for him, but I came up empty-handed. Walt was gone before the first stone was layed at Latroun. A number of years ago, I translated some of my favorites into Hebrew. Fortunately, only the English remains.

Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
any nearer than I am, Some are baffled, but that one is not--that one knows me.

Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.

Unlike my lucky friend, Elke, who is forever winning contests, I just won what might be my first. (Okay, so, I did win a music composition competition once, but that was back practically in the Dark Ages). I was listening to Dr. Paul Camerata's SQPN podcast, SaintCast about "all things Saint-like." He has a regular segment called Saint Jeopardy in which he offers clues and some lucky listener comes up with the winning "question," usually in the form of 'Who is Saint X?' This time, I realized that I actually knew the answer.



The clue was that the "famous person" (ie., not a saint) was born on St. George's Feast Day. (You remember St. George and the dragon, right?). This "famous person" was quoted as having penned these lines:

O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on.

Now, you're probably saying, "way too easy! That's Shakespeare, (Measure for Measure, Act 2, Scene 2). I read it in high school!" Yep! I didn't win the big bucks, but I may have scored a SaintCast T-shirt...

When St. George's mom became a widow, she returned home to 4th century Palestine and her hometown of Lydda -- known today as Lod. She raised the future St. George near the site of the future Ben Gurion International Airport. Her son grew up to be a Roman soldier like his dead dad, and a dragon-slayer to boot. George was tortured and executed on this date in 303 while still in his 20s, not for killing a fire-breathing reptile, but for becoming a Christian.

Below is a clip from the 1948 film of the 1943 Broadway musical, One Touch of Venus written by Ogden Nash and Kurt Weill. The Broadway production featured Mary Martin (who I saw as Peter Pan on the first TV program I ever watched), with choreography by Agnes de Milles. The film version stars 26 year old Ava Gardner and 30 year old Robert Walker. Two years later, he suddenly died in rather mysterious circumstances "after being administered an injection of sodium amytal by two doctors who appeared at his house." (If someone in a white coat comes to your house with a needle, slam the door!) So, what is the connection between St. George, Shakespeare and this clip? Today is St. George's Day and William Shakespeare is 444 years old. In (Much Ado about Nothing, Act II, Scene I), he gives Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon the famous line that Ogden Nash borrowed:

Don Pedro: Speak low, if you speak love.
Balthazar: Well, I would you did like me.
Margaret:  So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many ill qualities.
Balthazar: Which is one?
Margaret:  I say my prayers aloud.
Balthazar: I love you the better; the hearers may cry Amen.
Margaret:  God match me with a good dancer!
Balthazar: Amen.

Tags: ava gardner, kurt weill, odgen nash, robert walker, shakespeare, st. george
Current Mood: loved lowly
Current Music: יהודה פוליקר & עמיר בניון: דברים שרציתי לומר