Friday, January 29, 2010

America. socialism and patriotism in one ticket

In the summer of 2003 I spent six weeks in Firenze.
I remember how in one of my many strolls around the city, when the Ponte Vecchio was revealed to me for the first time. I asked Hanna; do the people who live here wake up every morningwith astonishment? how could they not?
I couldn't imagine someone becoming indifferent to this sight, making coffee in the macchinetta, without feeling the luckiest girl in the world.

Then, I asked Luigi, who lived in Firenze for seven years (but was originally from a tiny village in the tip of the heel) if he looks up every day, when he goes to work, to look at the beautiful bridge and colorful houses.
He said there are too many tourists, they're blocking the view.

And now I'm in New York.
And my school is in Times Square.

It's been a while, maybe a year, since I experienced my "firsts" - first time I saw the skyline on a ride on the Williamsburg bridge at night, the first time I saw snow, or covering the presidential elections (and going out to the street in my pajamas to celebrate with all the hipsters at midnight). Since then, I managed to forget how fortunate I am.

Last week I saw 'The Sleeping Beauty', and this feeling was awaken once again.
The New York City Ballet, at Lincoln Center, left me speechless for a change.

It wasn't only the live orchestra playing Tchaikovsky, or the technique of Princes Aurora (Megan Fairchild of Salt Lake City) but also the fact that the front seat tickets to the two hour fantasy were bought at the price of $26. Socialism in America.

You may not have health coverage, you can be a struggling student who can't afford to breath the city's polluted air, but nights like these remind you why it's probably the best city in the world.

And then you walk out, to a windy 10 degree cold night (minus something in Celsius) and wait 15 minutes for the train, to hear the announcement that the downtown 1 train will not be running on the downtown track. It won't be another hour before you'll get to the other side of the bridge.

p.s. ballet teacher Peter Schabel disagreed on the quality and interpretation of the NYCB's sleeping beauty. "It's not like the Russians'". Well, the socialism is not quite the same either.

[This is a different sleeping beauty. The beautiful Sofiane Sylve, according to youtubers.]

Monday, January 25, 2010

Two advils for two peoples.


“... and I accept responsibility for nothing else. If people want to have headaches among the overtones, let them. And provide their own aspirin.”

Just like Samuel Beckett's famous answer to a theater critic - last Friday in East Jerusalem, the four hour tour was free - but aspirin was not included. Sadly, it was not a play. Reality's absurd exhibition.

On the super sunny- mid January - desert morning, a bus with people from China, Germany, USA, Holland and Israel, left the heart of the hectic 2,000 years- old capital, to see for themselves what is really going on along the "Jerusalem envelope".

Just 40 minutes away, there's a beautiful beach. What are they doing on a gorgeous day like this, looking at an nine meter cement wall?

The non for profit, non partisan (City of Peoples) Ir - Amim organization tour along the security barrier, wall, fence or however you wish to call it, was too short to cover the long and complicated issue, the political and social situation of the two peoples living in one big mess.

I though I saw the big picture, a big picture. But there are many more bigger and smaller pictures I never saw before that Friday.
I lived in Jerusalem as a child, I lived a quarter of a century in Israel. I voted, I religiously follow the news, but I didn't get around to see the significant difference of the way those buildings look like. I didn't see the streets, the kids, the neglected streets and wild west caos of construction in East Jerusalem. The Jewish Democratic city.

What did the Chinese tourist on the bus got out of the "study tour"? Did any of the foreigners understand how divided and in-dividable this city is?
And what would I have done if someone had built a wall in the middle of my sacred beach?

Two peoples build, one on top of another, trying to mark as much territory as fast as possible, before the other side gets there first, making more babies, building as many balconies.

One last stop before we went back home; overlooking Judea desert, it was such a clear day, you could see down town Amman. This how small the Middle East is.

By the end of the four hour field trip, a tour packed with information, facts stats and commentary, with no time to eat, drink - you knew a little bit more, and understood much less.
Past and present were very obvious. Future - not as much.

Knowledge IS power, but when you stare at the mountains of illegal construction, hills of refugee camps, and valleys of poverty and chaos, you don't feel neither wiser nor stronger. Just a big headache.

Even though no solution makes sense, it doesn't mean there's nothing we can do.
If you don't like Ir Amim's style, if you don't want to wake up at 7 am on your day off, you can still go there, with or without the narration, just go - the images speak for themselves.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Friday Afternoon State of Mind

Some things are a part of you, but most of the time, you don't remember they exist.
Like your kidney.

Like Friday afternoon.

I haven't had a Friday afternoon in a while. The Friday afternoon magic hour doesn't translate, I wonder if it exists anywhere else in the world.
You had to be there to understand.
It's not like Saturday afternoon.

In Jerusalem, where I grew up there's a siren, that tells people Shabat is coming.
Ironically the same happens in Brooklyn, where I live now. Somehow, it doesn't have quite the same effect.

I wish I could pack it - to go. Friday afternoon with a side of 75F sun.

Who ever thought about it was a genius.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

New Year, Old Magic








It's a new year,
It's a new decade,


but it still feels like time froze