An American star is born in Israel

June 9, 2010 - 7:59 AM by David · Leave a Comment
Filed under: General 

Nikia Brown - the next 'star'?

The Israeli version of American Idol, Kochav Nolad, has been airing its preliminary auditions as it weeds candidates down to the couple dozen finalists who will compete for the coveted prize which is an inside track to national stardom.

Among current top performers who got their start on the show are folks like Harel Skaat, who represented Israel not too successfully in the latest Eurovision contest, Ninet Tayeb and Shiri Maimon.

One audition this year, among the pop and mizrahi wannabees, that has caught the nations’ attention has been Nikia Brown’s. A convert to Judaism from Kansas City, Missouri, the African American immigrant to Israel makes up for her lack of Hebrew with an amazing voice and stage presence.

The judges, including Dana International and Pablo Rosenberg, were taken aback with her phonetically-rendered rendition of the standard “Uf Gozal,” which was given a soulful twist by the 34-year-old singer.

However, while placing here in the finals, the judges insisted that Brown take a crash course in Hebrew, in order to be able to learn songs for the weekly competition. So, that’s what she’s been doing for the last month.

So when the next phase of the competition begins next week, we’ll be able to see if Nikia Brown has begun to master the language – and whether given the scope of her talent, the audience will even care

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Running the marathon – Israeli style

March 18, 2010 - 10:24 PM by Brian Blum · 1 Comment
Filed under: Israeliness, Life, Sports 

My wife Jody and I ran the 10K in the Jerusalem Half Marathon today. I’ve been running 3-4 times a week for over a decade already, but never in a competitive race. We didn’t come in first, but we were satisfied with a respectable time of just over an hour.

We arrived at the athletic stadium at Hebrew University’s Givat Ram campus at 9:00 AM, picked up our number plates (see my picture), our plastic shoe dongles (to electronically read our finishing time) and a couple of free granola bars, before sitting back to survey the scene.

There must have been close to 3,000 participants for both the 10K and the full half marathon (26 kilometers). Some were practicing loops around the track, others milling around in their spandex shorts and tops. There was a preponderance of good looks and buffed bodies.

I imagine this must be what the pre-race environment looks like at any competition around the world. But there were a few uniquely Israeli elements, too.

The first was a group of runners for charity, raising money for Shalva, the Association for Mentally and Physically Challenged Children in Israel. The fundraisers, decked out in white t-shirts with the Shalva insignia, were surrounded by kids from the program, some of whom played percussion in a small band crooning Israeli pop songs.

Music was another reminder of where we were. It seems that every event or ceremony in Israel is infused by Shlomo Artzi classics. At our son’s swearing in ceremony for the army last year, it was “Uf Gozal” – “Fly Little One” (see my post here). Today, “Kmo Az (“Like Then” – lyrics here).

Then there were the soldiers: hundreds of them, many decked out in full uniform which they peeled off prior to running, laying their rifles carefully next to their kitbags on the bleachers.

At just before 10:00 AM, we lined up at the starting line, adrenaline pumping. I had been warned not to run too fast at the start, despite the excitement of the crowd. Jody and I were about two-thirds of the way back and, when the countdown reached one, we were quickly overtaken by speedier competitors from behind.

I kept to the recommendation though, gliding down the hill towards Nayot without overexerting myself. As the route neared the Gan Sacher park, I heard a loud whooping noise coming from behind me. A sea of red was approaching.

It was a group of hundreds of army parachuters running, playing, kibitzing. They had bottles of water, which they rained on their compatriots. I had no choice but to stand aside and let them pass. As they did, I saw the words on the backs of their t’s – “Achrei” – “Follow Me.”

At about the halfway mark I decided this slow and steady approach was not serving me well. Jody was already way ahead. We were headed up a hill from the park to the Israel Museum. I do particularly well on hills. I ratcheted up my speed and started passing runners who were temporarily walking as they trudged along. It felt good.

Before long, I could see Jody up ahead. I ran faster, reaching her, giving her a grin before sprinting forward. But my energy wasn’t endless, and we eventually ran side-by-side, actually holding hands as we crossed the finish line some 20 minutes later.

Sweat dripping on this warm spring morning, we felt a profound sense of accomplishment as we picked up our complementary popsicles and commemorative medals. Nearby, the parachutists were on the ground, doing push ups, still whooping and having a grand time.

For me, the marathon has a special significance. A year ago, I was in California for my father’s funeral while the race was taking place back home. He had died very quickly after being diagnosed with lymphoma less than three weeks earlier. I had still been training for the race only days before I hopped on the plane.

My father had polio as a child and was confined to a wheelchair in his later years. As I ran the 10K, I imagined he would have been proud of me for taking on such a challenge. It was nevertheless a bittersweet triumph, a sad reminder of a painful milestone.

Will we be back at the Jerusalem marathon next year? We certainly hope so. Or maybe even before that. The Tel Aviv Marathon is coming up May 14. See you there?

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Fly Little One

November 26, 2009 - 8:59 PM by Brian Blum · Leave a Comment
Filed under: Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life, War 

Amir Swearing InOur 18-year-old son Amir graduated from basic training this week. After what he described as an “enjoyable” experience, he and the other new recruits gathered in a large open area on the army base in the center of the country where they had just learned how to salute, obey orders and fire laser-powered rifles.

There were about a hundred soldiers split into two groups. They stood at attention, mostly listening to speeches, as their parents and siblings waited in the nearby bleachers for the moment the cadets would swear their allegiance to the army and to their country.

Amir is our oldest child, so this was our first time at such a ceremony and we weren’t sure what to expect. Most of my images of the army are from American movies and television: lots of pomp and circumstance, stony faces, and forced bravado.

There was certainly that element at Amir’s swearing in ceremony, but there was also a playfulness. When the soldiers finally got to the big moment, their commanding officers (all women) punched many of them in the arms, the closest you can get to a public hug in the army, I guess.

The format for the swearing was classically Israeli. In one hand, the soldiers held a gun, in the other a Bible.

The part of the ceremony that surprised me most, though, was the music. I was expecting reverent silence or maybe a brass band. Instead, pre-recorded Israeli pop songs played over the loudspeakers.

When it was Amir’s turn, Shlomo Artzi’s version of the Arik Einstein song “Uf Gozal” (Fly Little One) a modern Hebrew rock standard which speaks of a little bird leaving the nest (how appropriate, right?) blared. My wife Jody was crying; I was manning the video camera so I had to hold it together.

(As a side note: today was also Shlomo Artzi’s 60th birthday and the radio had been playing the Israeli crooner’s songs all day.)

Now Amir is off to his post-basic training regular army position. What will he be doing? He can’t say – really – and we’re not allowed to ask. So other than his green uniform, today’s ceremony may be the last we see of the army for the next three years.

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