Ring, Ring
If you’ve ever considered fleeing overseas in order to get away from pesky telemarketers, DON’T move to Israel. It’s almost as bad here as it is in North America. A Mother in Israel elaborates.
Just about every day we get unsolicited calls falling into three categories: telemarketers, surveys, and charitable organizations. I have found that the best way to get rid of telemarketers is not to give them a chance to talk. One of my children once asked me, “Why do you always say, ‘Lo meunyanim’” (not interested)? Afterward saying those magic words I hang up immediately. I figure I am doing them a favor by not letting them waste their time on a non-sale, although one called me right back to chastise me for being rude. I don’t think she has much of a future as a telemarketer!
On the rare occasion that I agree to answer a survey on the phone, I always regret it. They invariably take about twenty minutes to complete, even though the caller insists that it is a “short” survey, and that he is “almost” fniished. My favorite was the marketing survey about a new type of white cheese. Each of the thirty or so questions included the name of the brand. Clearly this survey was an effective advertisement as I remember the name of the cheese to this day.
When we first came to Israel, the few requests we received from charitable organizations occurred on their “yom hatramah” or annual appeal, which was run by volunteers. Nowadays our phone rings constantly with requests for one organization or another. Lately, every week brings a new organization requesting aid for “mishpechot bimetzukah” (families in distress). How many such organizations do there need to be? There are two or three in my town alone. And the callers are as aggressive as any telemarketer. I know most of them are paid, and they must work on a commission. I don’t have any other way to explain the fact that they call every two or three months or more. When going over our expenses we recently found that my husband and I had donated to an organization twice within the same week.Then there was the caller who tearfully pleaded for funds on behalf of a patient needing an operation in chutz laaretz (outside of Israel). When I mentioned an amount the caller exclaimed, “Oh, that’s not enough!” I am not implying that the request was not genuine, but I had no way of knowing for sure.
More than once I have found an exorbitant charge to a charitable organization on my credit card statement. Fortunately I was able to cancel these donations easily. Are these genuine mistakes or are they intended to beef up a commission? It’s too bad that the reputations of these organizations become sullied by this practice. I don’t want to entrust my credit card number to careless or dishonest representatives.
Dude, Where’s His Dude?
Old Benji had a bad, bad plumbing week. I noticed earlier that he was having trouble coping with the concept of pay toilets. What I didn’t notice was that during the same week, he ran out of hot water:
Got home yesterday to my roommate saying “Dohnt show-ehr!” What, like ever? “No! There is no hoht wahter! The dude is noht wohr-keeng!” Excuse me? Who is the dude and how can we get him back to work?
The dude…is not a dude. It’s the dood, otherwise known as the hot water boiler. As in the individual hot water boiler for each unique apartment. As in there’s no central water heater. As in each owner maintains his or her own. And as in ours BROKE yesterday and Daddy’s got no hot water. OMIG-D. Yeah, I know there’s this whole situation with the Arabs but in case you didn’t hear, I DON’T HAVE HOT WATER!!! Now mind you, I often don’t have hot water. Because with a dude, you have to flip the hot water switch outside your bathroom somewhere between 10 and 30 minutes prior to getting into the shower. Which means you have to wake up, flip the switch, then kill some time before getting Zestfully clean. That certainly doesn’t fall under the category of convenience.
My roommate suggested that I clean myself like she did on her Indian vacation, using a “hot bucket”. A hot bucket is when you boil water in your kumkum (electric water kettle, warrants its own post), pour it into a bucket, mix it with cold water, and then pour it over yourself. In other words, absolute insanity. When I asked her if she had lost her mind, she said “you ken write about eet een your blohg.” Yes, I can! BRILLIANT! I was prepared to do some investigative journalism until it was fixed tonight. The landlady sent a maintenance guy to fix it. Thank G-d…somebody wouldn’t have smelled good tomorrow.
The Sweet Taste of Persimmons
OK, I know I posted an ode to strawberries recently, but hey – some bloggers get excited about cats, I get excited about fresh fruit.
When I first came to Israel, I’d never seen a persimmon before. I remember thinking “why are these weird tomatoes bright orange?” But one bite of the yummy fruit that you could swear was spiced with cinnamon sugar and I was hooked. This article contains two pieces of good news — first, that persimmons are likely to stay in season longer than they currently do, and secondly, that the rest of the world is catching on.
In recent years, Israel has conquered second place in persimmon export, coming in after Spain. The Plants Production and Marketing Board reports that the fruit reaches most continents; mainly Europe (east and west), followed by South Africa and Australia.
Even more eastern countries like China, Singapore, Japan and Thailand enjoy the Israeli persimmon.
Chairman of the persimmon growers board Yair Kaplan says the fruits success abroad is due to its sweet taste. “We grow the Triumph variety, in which we have managed to reach a 25 percent sugar content, whereas competing persimmons only have a 15 percent sugar content.”
A Musical People
A night out on the town in Tel Aviv leads Hannah to observe that in Israel, you really can’t stop the music, though she’s not quite sure why:
We met at a nearby bar that some were (sarcastically) claiming was “the new hot Tel Aviv bar”. I have absolutely no idea if this is true, but by midnight the place was so packed that you could barely squeeze through the crowd to get to the bathroom. The music was an odd mix of Israeli less-than-mainstream favorites (i.e. things you wouldn’t hear on Galgalatz) and songs like “YMCA”, “Ironic” by Alanic Morrisette, and Michael Jackson. Some people get snobby about their music, but I love the crazy mixes Israelis think up and just sing along regardless. A little alcohol to lighten the mood always helps. And really, it could have been karaoke night because everyone in the room was tapping their feet or bobbing their head while they sang along to the music.
It’s something I love about Israelis, they love to sing. There is absolutely no fear of looking like an idiot, you just sing wherever you are. I see delivery men singing as they wait for the elevator, cooks singing as they prepare a salad, young people walking down the street and singing their favorite songs. It makes me smile and, though I don’t often join in, I think that it is something worth admiring about Israeli culture and perhaps even sort of insightful into how Israelis deal with war, violence, and terrible terrible drivers… or maybe they just like to sing.
The Writing Is On the Wall:
I had to put this West Bank Mama post next to Yael’s, because I was struck by how these two clearly thoughtful intelligent women think so differently — that the political chasms in Israel aren’t so clear-cut, black-and-white, good-vs.-evil or naive-vs.-realistic. (For the uninitiated, Bnei Akiva is a youth movement, one of several in Israel. They combines traditional scouting activities with an idealogical direction that cross the spectrum from hard-core Labor Zionism to right-wing religious. My son is in one that is affiliated with the Conservative movement.) Anyway, back to West Bank Mama:
Every year those of us with children in Bnei Akiva (from fourth grade to12th) endure – um, I mean enjoy what is called Shabbat Irgun. This day sums up a month of work by the kids to get geared up for the year. They have “morale sessions” (basically singing at the top of their lungs about how great their group is), they prepare a skit for the Motzei Shabbat extravaganza, and they scrape off the paint, do a whitewash, and repaint their portion of the wall in the Bnei Akiva “snif” (clubhouse).
Each year the parents are invited in to see these walls. Each time I go I get a sense of what the kids are thinking about (or at least what their teenage advisors are thinking about).
Last November most of the paintings were colored black or orange, and referred to the destruction of Gush Katif and the hope that we will return there. Some of the more philosophical groups wrote about hope and despair and faith – with quotations from various sources.
This year there was a different feel. The war in Lebanon and in Gaza took precedence. Some groups had collages of religous soldiers painted on the wall. Some used military “accessories” to showcase each kid’s name in the group – one group used the “kumta” – the beret, each one with a different child’s name. My son’s group used dogtags. It certainly was a queasy sight seeing my ten year old’s name, with a number that he just made up (at least he didn’t put his teudat zehut number, that would have been too much).
Another group painted the following slogan in their space:
“Shalom zeh hazman bein milchama l’milchama” – “Peace is the time between one war and another.”
Sobering, yes.
At the same time, though, I found this slogan to be somewhat encouraging. Not because I love war, G-d forbid. The idea of my sons fighting scares me to death.
I found it comforting, though, that although these kids are only teenagers, they understand what it takes to live here in Israel. These are normal, happy adolescents, who worry about pimples and popularity just like others their age the world over. But at the same time they know that living in their homeland takes sacrifice, and they are willing to make it.
If everyone here in Israel saw things this clearly we would all be better off.
Hoping Against Hope
Yael, the Israeli blogosphere’s official optimist, shares her hopeful thoughts on the peace process and a hopeful music video to go with them:
I haven’t said anything about the extremely fragile and not exactly being upheld by the Palestinians cessation of hostilities in Gaza because when it was first mentioned that it might happen I believed it like I’ve believed all the numerous claims that Gilad Shalit was going to be released “within a few days” –he’s still captive and it has been more than 5 months.
Still, it has sort of gone into effect in that Israel is adhering to it. We’ve ceased all activity in Gaza and our troops are not in Gaza at all. It has semi gone into effect on the Palestinian side in that rather than daily rocket barrages of Sderot and surroundings that numbered in the double digits only (”only”) about 4 rockets are being launched at our civilian population a day. But Abbas (I really do like Abbas) has sent a whole ton of police to monitor the border and to try to stop the truce-violators.
I’m still afraid that saying anything about it will somehow jinx this “not quite a cessation” and that we’ll see a return to daily madness. I have to say that I am very much hoping something positive will come of it.
I am hoping with all my heart that our inept leaders will enter negotiations that will result in the return of Gilad to his mother and his father and his country. I am hoping that it will lead to negotiations on the future of a Palestinian state side by side with us. I’m hoping Jordan will stop having a complete panic attack caused by fears that any resolution we come to will result in Palestinians wanting or trying to move to Jordan. I’m hoping Jordan might even agree to open their borders to allow goods from the West Bank to flow through and out into the world so that we are not the only country to allow the products of the Palestinians to reach the rest of the world (and of course, because of security issues, these products are often stuck right where they were produced).
I have a lot of hopes. I don’t have a lot of trust or belief. But still, there is a tiny ray of light and so in honour of that little ray, I’m going to share with you guys one of my favourite songs from a group called ??? (sheva which means 7 in hebrew). The band is called Sheva because it consists of seven members. The band lives close together in the Northern Galil and they are famous for the special instruments from India that they play as well as the ones they make themselves. Their songs express their hope for peace and harmony among nations. In this spirit, their band has members that are Arab and Jewish Israelis.
Posting on “Israelity” about a post on “Israellycool” that’s about a blog called “Israelli.”
Dave has discovered the (not so) new relaunched Israeli Foreign Ministry blog that’s coming out of the NY consulate and offers his impressions:
The Israeli Consul for media and public affairs in New York calls this “the official blog of the State of Israel”, and “the first state Blog out there.” They also want feedback.
1. It’s better late than never, but why did it take so long?
2. Do we really need another blog that plays on the words “Israel” and “real”? It is so unoriginal and cliched. Ok, I’ll shut up now…
3. The blog looks nice.
4. They need to extend the blogroll to include a great many more pro-Israel blogs.
5. The blogroll should be located on the main page.
6. Good to see the government is rebranding Israel as promised, evidenced by the Hot in Israel banner in the right-hand sidebar.
Religious Ranting
When we get bored with political controversy around here, there’s always religious controversy to get us worked up again.
Danya Ruttenberg, a religiously observant feminist, is very unhappy with a recent conference by haredi (ultra-Orthodox) on the subject of women’s modesty, which only seemed to fall a bit short of recommending that women walk around in full-scale burka and veils.
Nothing says haredi Judaism like thousands of men packed in a room talking about what women need to do, does it?
A huge, married-men-only conference on modesty was held a week-plus ago to discuss the necessity of buckling down on dress codes for women and girls. As far as the article indicates, male modesty and/or a more broadly defined modesty as humility and care for the other were not discussed.
There was, according to reports, one woman who spoke there. But her remarks ticked Danya off as much as any of the mens’.
The one woman that they quoted used the tagline of the recent modesty handbook Oz Hadar Velevusha (which is replete with debates about the permissibility of patterned tights and the like) –“Just as the Torah is most important to men, so is modesty for women.”
I have never understood this. Torah isn’t important for women? Even if this was intended to mean “Torah study,” it still sounds awful. Men get God’s 613 commandments and a book describing the covenant between God and Israel, and women get implored to make sure shirts are at least 10 centimeters longer than their waistlines?
(Rabbi Yehudah Henkin observes, “This ideology prohibits a woman from standing out—and from being outstanding. She must not act in a play, paint a mural, play an instrument or otherwise demonstrate special skills in front of men, lest she attract attention and her movements excite them.”)
Pay to Pee
OK, Benji’s freaking out a bit, and all because of — the horror — Israeli establishments that charge a fee to answer Mother Nature’s call:
What’s the deal with THAT?! This seems to be fairly common at bathrooms at bus stations in major cities in this country. Who decided it was ok to charge people to take care of business? That just doesn’t seem right to me. What’s next? A fee to respirate? Sometimes the security system is a revolving door requiring a shekel coin (G-d help you if you don’t have change), and sometimes, it’s a woman like the one shown above. At least she was nice enough to hand me some squares of toilet paper during my grand entrance. I’ll have to remember that when Hanukkah begins next month…..
What kind of benefits could a job like that offer someone? Do you think she gets to use the bathroom for free across the country (ech omrim “professional courtesy”?) That could certainly come in handy when traveling (especially after a few cups of Nescafe). What happens when she calls in sick? Does a temp show up? Management can’t be losing their 2 shekels! I asked Mrs. Dr. Evil why they charge and she explained that management has to raise money for upkeep and whatnot. It’s a BATHROOM! What, are they installing some French windows in there??? This is one of those annoying situations where management passes on their expenses to the customers (like how tenants in New York City have to pay exhorbitant amounts of money to their doormen for Christmas. For Christ’s sakes, that’s what EMPLOYERS are for! I never understood why they relied on our Christmas tips to put food on the table. I hate Christmas tipping in New York-it’s as if certain businesses arbitrarily decided,
“You know what, Bill, I have a crazy idea but it just might work. Let’s pay our employee less than minimum wage, create a culture that says that the CUSTOMERS have to pay for his/her salary, and you and I spend our winters in Bermuda!”
“Jack, you crazy rat bastard! It’s crazy but it just might work!”
In the end, of course, Benji took a deep breath, paid his two shekels, and did his business.
A Wish List
This is Stephanie’s holiday season wish list. I think we could all use a little of what she’s wishing for:
Here we go into Christmas Season friends and neighbors. Hold onto your hats! Ho ho ho.
Except over here in Holy Land Central (HLC) there’s none of that Americana style build-up, commercialization and shop-till-you drop spirit. We Jewish tribal types, in fact, are only marginally – if at all – aware of Yule; It isn’t celebrated, for the most part, this side of the green line. In Bethlehem, parts of Jerusalem and the West Bank, yes. Not Tel Aviv.
Nonetheless, I am taking this opportunity to present Stefanella’s 2006 Holiday Season Wish List. Why not? As my Buddhist friends say: You have to put it out there for the karma to find you. More simply phrased: If you don’t let Santa know, how’s he gonna drop it off at your house?
1. Expendable Income – I don’t want to stand in the supermarket aisle comparing nutritional value versus cost versus how far a food item can be stretched. In fact, I don’t want to think about budgeting at all. I want extra cash. I want to find 100 shekel notes in my jean pockets and casually remark: “Oh that’s nice” rather than fretting that such a find might induce a coronary.
2. Day Spa – Sue me for my trespasses. I’m allowed the occasional shee-shee girlish whim. I want to wallow in a jacuzzi and sauna, doze off to the tones of New Age chimes while melting under the nimble kneading of a deep tissue masseur, get a peel and facial and drink freshly churned carrot juice while lounging in a white robe and scanning the latest copy of Vanity Fair.
3. Subscription to Vanity Fair -….come to think of it.
4. Indulge my Offspring – I want to take my son on an elephant ride in India and on African Safari. I want to encourage his artistic slant with visits to the Louvre and the finest oils, ceramics and private lessons money can purchase. I want to be able to say “yes” more often to his requests for toys. I want him to have a carefree life.
5. Teach my Offspring – I want my son to learn that giving back through volunteerism and donation is a responsibility and an honor. That each person can make a difference. That we’re all here for a purpose and once you figure yours out, you’re in.
6. More Fun – Less thinking, more action. More visiting with friends, less worrying about time constraints and work. More outings, less work. More cultural exposure, less worry over finances.
7. A Thigh-High Pair of Spike-Heeled Boots – to wear around the house with my pretend mini-skirt while singing “..that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over…”8. Chocolate Truffles and Creme Brulee for the Masses – Well I had to end on a positive note, no?
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