Nostalgia Sunday

July 26, 2009 - 11:01 AM by Jessica · Leave a Comment
Filed under: A New Reality, General, History and Culture, Immigrant Moments, Nostalgia Sunday

Sometimes it’s the dog days of summer, as you drift or, preferably, drive in a comfortably air-conditioned car, through the familiar streets of your neighborhood that you pay more attention to where you are and where you’re going.

Agnon's library

At least that’s what seems to have happened to a friend and neighbor of mine, Kenny Borsykowsky, who recently spent time putting together a fabulous document of historical photos and descriptions of our Jerusalem neighborhood of Talpiot. Most famously home to the early Israeli writer S.Y. Agnon, the Talpiot of yesteryear was, in essence, a Jerusalem suburb, as well as an outpost of sorts, guarding the border with Jordan. And for the residents, life was full of challenges. The bus, tells Kenny through an Agnon quote from The Fire and The Trees, came four times a day.

“And for the bus to come and go as scheduled 4 times a day. And what would [the driver] do if he had to consult with the neighbors? Indeed there was no telephone. He would take the shofar, climb onto the roof of his house and blow it, the neighbors would hear and come…”

That was later in the settlement of the area. Beforehand, in the 1900s, the entire area was a cluster of army bases and today’s Beitar Street was once a landing strip. Other points of interest? The Orthodox synagogue, commonly known as S.Y. Agnon, and where I have been attending one of the many daily minyanim in order to say kaddish for my father — more on that later — was named for Agnon, one of the first residents of the area. He was born in Galicia, moved to Jaffa in 1908, then to Berlin and back to Palestine in 1924, when he settled in Talpiot. He loved the neighborhood, as he wrote in The Sign:

“I stood among the little trees, all surrounded by gardens…Since I love the small houses and the refreshing gardens, I will tell their story.”

In The Sign he tells of a young veterinarian who wants to build his home in Talpiot, overlooking the desert with the Dead Sea in the distance:

“Descending from his donkey, he began hiking and walking, making his way among thorns and boulders, pondering in thought: ‘Imagine if I could make this place my home, together with my wife and children! But living here was impossible, far from town with neither any sign of settlement nor a living soul around, except for birds and insects.”

20464894[1].DSCN1906 Clearly, those times have long passed, as witnessed by the many residents, long lines of traffic in the morning hours and Egged buses passing through all day long. And Agnon got to witness his neighborhood’s changing facade as well, as witnessed by his decision to build the entrance of his own home away from the street, in order to reduce the noise entering his own home. It was from his home library that he worked, writing his books as well as the Prayer for the State of Israel, and he even convinced the city to make his street one-way (which it is to this day) to cut down on traffic and post a sign stating, “Please keep quiet: Writer at work!”

If only I could convince them to do the same for me…

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Tags: S.Y. Agnon, Talpiot

Signage

May 8, 2009 - 8:38 AM by Jessica · Leave a Comment
Filed under: General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, design

The sign for Yael and Zemer's wedding, at Ramat Rachel

Israeli signage in English is the budding proofreader’s dream: It’s chock full of misspellings, mistranslations and unintended idioms, starting with the question of whether to translate a ‘kuf’ as a ‘q’ or a ‘k,’ and only perhaps succeeding in directing you where you want to go. When you’re driving on the highway, that can mean ending up in Gadera rather than Hadera. Once you get into cities, towns and neighborhoods and check out the local streets, stores and menus, it’s a veritable cornucopia of transliteration masquerading as the English language.

After 14 years here, I actually like the fact that there’s a difference in opinion over whether a ‘kuf’ should be a ‘k’ or a ‘q.’ But what I am wondering is whether the signage misspellings are more about culture and less about language. That is, Israelis seem to like signs, certainly more than they like giving directions. (When asked for directions, most Israelis will tell you to go straight for a while, and then ask the next person for more directions.) And so, signs of all kinds tend to proliferate. There are now electronic signs letting passengers know how long they will have to wait for their bus to arrive. In Jerusalem, there are signs at each neighborhood offering the name of said neighborhood. For instance, many Kiryat Shmuel residents may have thought they were living in Rechavia (should it be ‘ch’ or ‘h’?) You can be sitting at the intersection of Baram and Hebron Road in Talpiot, and there’s a sign pointing toward Tel Aviv, which is sort of confusing given that you’re nowhere near Tel Aviv at that junction.

And there are the temporary handwritten signs, letting you know where Itzik and Dalia’s wedding is being held, with an arrow pointing in the general direction. It’s sort of the local equivalent of the New York Times Celebrations section, letting us know who’s getting married this week and where. You won’t necessarily end up at Ramat Rachel (one particular wedding hall locale) if you were to follow said signs (I like the one pictured here; they used the Ramat Rachel part of someone else’s wedding sign as part of theirs), but it’s a fun way to start the celebration. And who knows? Maybe that sign will help you get to where you’re going.

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Tags: Kiryat Shmuel, Ramat Rachel, Rechavia, Talpiot

Time for sachlab!

November 2, 2008 - 6:21 AM by Harry · Leave a Comment
Filed under: Food

Sachlab! I enjoyed my first sachlab of the season yesterday. As far as I’m concerned, the only places I truly enjoy a nice cup of sachlab are Abulafia in Jaffa and Mifgash HaShech in Jerusalem. Mifgash HaShech has been serving up Sachlab for many years (but certainly not 125 like Abulafia) in Talpiot and is open 24 hours a day, but not on Shabbat. They flirted with a more “upscale” location at one point but it proved to be an epic failure.

Silly me. There must be some of you who have no idea what Sachlab is. Allow me to explain. Take some vanilla orchid root and milk, mix it up, sprinkle on a generous amount of cinnamon, peanuts (sometimes walnuts) and coconut and you have a hot, creamy concoction that is Middle Eastern comfort food at it’s best. It’s the perfect drink for cold Jerusalem nights. Yeah, so the sachlab was alright. Not the best I’ve had, but satisfying. My friend said it was watery. I disagreed. While it wasn’t the thickest I’ve had, it definitely wasn’t kool aid consistency. I don’t like it too thick anyway. Thicker sachlab tends to taste very starchy. So I’d take a thinner sachlab with flavor over a sachlab pudding any day. And this sachlab certainly didn’t lack flavor. And doesn’t it look fantastic?

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