The amateur tour guide
Filed under: Entertainment, Food, General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life, Travel
We’re in a hosting week. Given that it’s Christmas-New Year’s week, it’s time for visitors to come, well, visit. For us, there’s the added incentive of my nephew’s bar mitzvah — Akiva, my special, special-needs nephew who did fabulously at his bar mitzvah on Monday morning — and the more than 30? 35? friends and relatives who decided to take advantage of a vacation week and come celebrate with us over here.
And so, I’ve got four cousins staying with me, plus some more family up the block in a rented apartment, and a variety of others staying in a range of hotels, from the simple to the more luxe. When that happens, you become tour guide for the week. Or ten days. Or two weeks.
It’s a funny thing. I mean, what do I know about being a tour guide? I didn’t take the tour guide course, of course, but when you’ve lived somewhere for 15 years, and it’s a place that people like to visit, you end up gathering information and knowledge about this kind of stuff. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that I just finished a project updating the Jerusalem section of the Fodor’s guidebook, and am now a local expert — among family and friends — about where to eat, stay and shop in Jerusalem.
We’ve tramped around Machane Yehuda, wandered through the newly renovated Israel Museum, walked around the ‘Mitcham HaRakevet’ in Tel Aviv and gone shopping in Gan Hachashmal. I’ve sent them to eat and see a flick at the Jerusalem Cinematheque, feed the goats in Moshav Tel Shachar and munch on grilled chicken in the shuk.
It’s fun to rediscover your fave places through the eyes of others. And, hey, to vacation in your own town.
Misguided Israeli extravagance
Filed under: A New Reality, Business, General, Israeliness, Life, Music, Pop Culture
Former pinup Samantha Fox is wanted in Israel.
But lately, those artists seem to be everywhere, becoming the equivalent of American crooners in cocktail lounges, as they regularly appear as featured attractions on cruise ships in the Mediterranean.
So taking the cue from Russian-born oligarchs who relocated to Israel like Arcadi Gaydamak and Roman Abramovich – who would spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to bring over artists like Pink or Enrique Iglesias to fly over to sing for a private party in an exclusive Tel Aviv port club – the upper crust is now doing the same, according to a feature in Yediot Aharonot.
Except, that they don’t really seem to have much taste in music. According to the report, Israelis are forking over big bucks to bring marginal talents like Boney M, pinup Samantha Fox, Kool and the Gang and Gloria Gaynor
Three such events are taking place this month, including a performance by the Gypsy Kings at an annual bash thrown by hotel magnate David Fattal in Eilat, in which the lively ‘80s band will receive around $50,000, according to the report. Fox received $33,000 to perform at a private event in Karmiel, and Boney M arrived for $31,000 not including flights and lodging.
“The Israelis have gone nuts,” a local promoter said. “They’ve realized they don’t have to settle for local artists. People here love to impress, and having Kobi Peretz at your wedding doesn’t impress anyone anymore. You need to bring someone who will make the guests say, ‘Wow.’”
“The oligarchs used to bring foreign artists on occasion, but two years ago the trend reached a whole new level and trickled down to a broader segment of the population,” says Pedi Yitav of Pedi Music and Productions Ltd. “Nowadays you don’t have to be an oligarch to book an artist from abroad for your event. It’s enough to have average plus financial capabilities.”
Average financial capabilities? I’m not sure that’s all required to pay those amounts. And if you’re already spending so much, why not bring over someone of substance? I guess if you have money in Israel, it must affect your judgement.
Turning 50
“Today I become a man.”
That’s a declaration more commonly associated with a bar mitzvah boy but, as I turn 50 tomorrow, I feel I am passing a milestone even more auspicious.
For what does one really know about being a grownup at a mere 13? Perhaps, once upon a time, that was closer to marriageable age. But today, it’s just the beginning of the turbulent teens.
At 50, however, you have decades of experience to define what being an adult really means. And if you have kids, your designation as parent – be it disciplinarian, dispenser of wisdom, or even friend – propels you far beyond the wide-eyed wonder of your own childhood.
I’ve heard that joke that 50 is the new 40 and I suppose it makes sense. I found 40 to be a mere way stop on a career train that was still full of possibility, nothing too terrifying. And 30 – despite the stigma that I would no longer be trustworthy to anyone under that age – came and went without a hitch.
But 50 – that’s the point when you’re closer to death than birth (unless you live to be 120, tfu, tfu, tfu). Yes, it sounds overly dour, but 50 is 37 years from 13. Can I reasonably expect to outlive that difference on the other side?
And you can’t avoid the general system failures your body constantly surprises you with. I now need three pairs of glasses; standing in the audience at a recent rock concert blew my hearing out so badly I couldn’t pick up high frequencies for a week; and my memory’s not doing so well either (though I’m learning to embrace “who are you again?” as a state of being rather than an embarrassment).
Maybe all this is why I decided to eschew the birthday bashes my friends (who all seem to be turning 50 within months of each other) have been throwing of late. I wanted to do something physically challenging…while I still can. So, come April next year, I’m taking the whole family to Nepal to do a 10-day trek on the fabled Annapurna Circuit.
Why wait until April? Ah, that’s where it all comes back to being a bar mitzvah. The trip is not just for me – it will also my youngest son’s 13th birthday and the Himalayan experience will be a way for us to celebrate these two milestones together. And, in the lead up to that trip, we are hiking all over Israel – 12 tiyulim in 12 months – I’ve written about this already at length here, here, here and here.
Barbara Stauch has written a wonderful book called “The Secret Life of the Grown Up Brain: The Surprising Talents of the Middle Aged Mind.” In it, she posits that, while our facility with faces may fade over time, our abilities with pattern recognition hit their peak later in life. We’re in many ways smarter, more creative and, studies now show, happier – with 65 being the age we are most satisfied with our lives.
Ironically, when I was 13, I never had a bar mitzvah. All that Jewish stuff didn’t interest me. And now here I am, writing from Jerusalem where I’ve lived happily, as a proud and outspoken Anglo-Israeli for nearly 16 years with an unceasingly supportive family.
Truly, I have no regrets. Other than a dollop of my own teenage angst (you can read about it here), it’s been a good ride. Middle age – watch out because, today, I am a man!
12 hikes for 12 years
One of the guiding principles of my relationship to Jewish tradition is to try, whenever possible, to develop creative approaches to time-honored rituals in order to add personal meaning. When my father died last year, for example, I took on a project to honor his memory by editing and publishing the book he’d been working on.
I’ve now turned my attention to my youngest son’s bar mitzvah. The 12-year-old loves to get out into nature and hike, so I thought it would be wonderful for us to plan together 12 tiyulim around Israel during the year before his big day, culminating in the overseas trekking experience I described in a previous post for hike number 13.
We started our hiking journey this week with an easy walk through Sataf, a lovely mountainside stroll with a few steep inclines, suitable for kids of all ages. The area was originally settled during the Chalcolithic Age; its ancient system of terraces dates back 4,500 years.
There are several routes you can take in Sataf. Most lead down the hill to a pool fed by spring water which is used by some ultra Orthodox Jews as an outdoor mikve (a ritual bath).
Picture from Israelity writer David Brinn
When I first visited Sataf years ago, I was rather shocked by the sight of several skinny men shedding their black and white clothes, jumping in the water with just underwear, then removing said undergarments, holding them in the air and dunking.
This time around, our trip was during the final days of the Passover break and the are
a was packed with tourists. The men (different faces, same clothes) were still there but they kept their bathing suits on.
Sataf has ample parking and the trails are all clearly marked. Entrance is free. There is a snack bar with “Italian” ice cream (pretty good, actually) at the starting point and an information station. But don’t believe what the woman at the desk says. She told us our tiyul would take two hours plus; we finished it in just over an hour!
I’m now compiling a list of places to hike – I’d appreciate your suggestions. Please leave your comments at the end of this post.
Human nature
An SPNI hike - great even if you're not a VIP
Our American friend, let’s call her Lauren, was planning her son’s bar mitzvah celebration in Israel. In addition to the bar mitzvah itself, she was also organizing other activities that her family as well as parents, cousins, etc would enjoy during the week.
She emailed the Society for Protection of Nature in Israel and inquired as to whether there were any organized trips/hikes during the 10 days they were going to be here at the end of December. She was told no, but if you hire a van, we’ll provide you with a guide to take you around.
“I wrote back, thanks, but we’re trying to keep our budget down and we can’t really afford to hire a van,” said Lauren. Next thing she knew, the SPNI contact had written back and said, the van is on us, and one of our director will be taking you around.
Flabbergasted, Lauren didn’t quite know how to respond. “We’re not even members of SPNI,” she responded. “But we certainly wouldn’t mind joining.”
On the predetermined day, her family gathered at the agreed upon spot, and sure enough, a van showed up wth one of SPNI’s head honchos, and they spent 10 hours hiking in the Judean hills, through Sataf, and having a splendid time. The SPNI suit was atttentive, informative and treated the family like VIPs.
At the end of the day, he said to Lauren, “You have to meet Naomi Tsur. I’ll make an appointment for you.”
Uh, ok, who is Naomi Tsur, Lauren responded, and she was told that Tsur was one of Jerusalem’s new deputy mayors on Nir Barkat’s list, and as a former head of SPNI, was going to spearhead efforts to ‘greenify’ Jerusalem.
The next day, Lauren, her husband, and three of their four kids were escorted into Tsur’s office in Safra Square.
“So, tell me, why exactly are you here?” Tsur asked the family of American tourists.
“We have no idea, we thought you wanted to see us.” answered Lauren.
“Right then, we could have admitted that this must be a big mistake and we were obviously thought to be somebody that we weren’t. Or we could have carried on this charade and continued this painfully awkward dialogue,” chimed in Mr. Lauren. “We chose the latter.”
45 minutes later, they were ushered out of Tsur’s office, still having no idea why they had been singled out for special treatment by the SPNI.
“It was as if the United States took each family of tourists that entered the country, and gave them a van for the day, a guide, and a personal meeting with President Obama,” said Mr. Lauren.
Somewhere, I’m sure, there’s a big SPNI benefactor who’s wondering why the van and VIP day has been cancelled.
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