The Milchblog

多事之夏

2011-07-12T15:24:00.000+08:00

我女朋友，yael, 跟她朋友去练瑜伽，每周二她们俩去做怀孕女人的瑜伽。对，好像我们快收一个宝宝，她快是第六个月的。太厉害。责任很多，时光也太快走了，本来就是三月四月，我说那时间还多，可以慢慢来。一眼而去，直到第五月了。太快。

让人恐怕的是我还没找到一个正正当当的工作。几年上都徘徊做野人，没有认真的工作。现在“假期”快完了，我不可以再做这样。另一方面，我也不知道要当什么人。的确是学老师证，可是最几个月并没有认真的读书。好像明天也有一个考试，我都不参加。

我怕我太习惯的懒。每天都自己会决定做什么，随随便便活着。一般来说，人人都需要什么境界，什么圈，要不是都乱七八糟的过时间。这跟我学习中文有点相似，过了五个年至今，我还有时试一试描绘什么事，仍然会碰到些苦难，不知道怎么办。说明来，这是因为语言广泛，说法无数。这几年我让千万词语流进我头脑，一来二去，没留下了什么大印象。因此我时时会觉得我中文很差，别的时又觉得我中文挺棒。这都是因语言实践不安定而发生的。这个不安定性导致了很多问题。例如说，我刚刚受到了一个电话，是一场翻译公司给我打电话，他们使我明天去beer sheva位于以色列南方的城市在法庭做翻译。以前我做过了一些翻译，但是我还受这种工作感觉很紧张，不知道要不要承受这个工作。

真讨厌结婚

2011-06-30T15:07:00.001+08:00

就是说，讨厌的不是结婚自己，而且关于结婚的所有文化。大家经常说到结婚，准备结婚，根据结婚准备自己的生活。向结婚做太多牺牲。

舞会我很喜欢。人为喜而聚也挺好。可是为什么要尽力做这个？话反说来，结婚为什么从喜事成为义务？我说，婚礼一成义务，就没有好玩的了。

细节说，我和女朋友已准备去外国度假，罗曼呀什么的，还不清楚。这好像就是我们俩最后一趟旅行，因为她怀孕了，宝宝大概终天出生。

时期决定好了后，她突然想起旅行的时候还有她朋友的告别单身派对，简单说：因一夜的派对我们要改天提前去。改天就是对我来说不适应极了，因为我那以前我有很想参加的马拉亚拉姆语课。不过关于结婚的事，结婚理所当然优先。马拉亚拉姆语因结婚而掉去。

schlafen gehen

2011-06-30T04:44:00.002+08:00

Ich sitz gerade in unserem salon, yael sitzt vor ihrem von mir zum geburtstag geschenkten nähenapparat, und feilt über eine tischlatte. diese nächte des sommers, wo man nicht weiß ob er halt schlafen gehen soll, damit er früher aufsteht, oder bloß weiter blogs liest, und versucht irgendwie die zeit amüsiert zu verbringen. was ist das mit amüsieren, dass man immer wach hält? wenn ich amüsiert bin, finde ich es schwierig, schlafen zu gehen. im grunde genommen, tiefer betrachtet, egal wie mag ich den schlaf, gehe ich fast immer ungern schlafen. mir ist vorgemerkt, der schlaf essenziel auch kein ende der amüsation. ich träume beim schlafen, ganz viel nächtlich, ich erlebe und bearbeite, manchmal sogar des schlafenseins bewußt.

warum denn nicht schlafen gehen wollen? ich glaube es hängt eng mit der beziehung zum morgen zusammen. wenn der morgenliche tag uns viel anspricht, oder irgendwie jegliche gefahren beeinhaltet, dann passiert was. vielleicht haben wir was dagegen, wollen die auseinandersetzung mit dem morgen bzw. dem morgenlichen tag womöglich verschieben. oder, wie oft auch vorkommt, wollen wir ganz schnel sicher ins bett schleichen, damit wir die kräfte für morgen zusammensammeln, uns gut darauf vorbereiten.

ich würde schätzen, die „probleme“ – genauer gesagt, die schlafstörung – kommt wenn wir dem morgen gar appatisch bleiben. wenn er bei uns kein interesse auch immer weckt, sprich uninteresse zeugt. wir sind uninteressiert, weil morgen ja doch wie heute aussehen wird, und heute ist ja schon da.

so ist es bei mir allerdings. jetzt will ich aber wohl schlafen gehen, schreiben auf einer fremden sprache macht man schon schummrig. und jetzt denke ich mir eine viertel stunde reicht wohl, wenn ich jetzt ständig auf fremden sprachen schreiben will. früher versuchte ich das mit einer stunde, also eine tägliche stunde schreiben. das projekt scheiterte noch vor beginn.

Three reasons why this blog got into a crisis

2009-06-05T22:18:00.000+08:00

1. I have no computer anymore. It’s yesterday’s news, so in short – three ugly guys came into the bar, two distracted me enough time for the third to take my things and go. I think over and over again about the scene. Of course, in all the reenactments I jump these two guys, beat them to pulp or drag them to the police. “I was either too smart or too chicken to try and grab one of them”, I wrote to my family a couple of hours after the incident. But eventually, I realized I was neither: the thought of attacking them just didn’t came up. That is to be granted not only to my peacefull nature, but to human reactions in these situations. Imagine yourself getting a punch on the street from somebody you don’t know, just like that. Your first reaction wouldn’t be anger, but sheer amazement. This was my reaction, and whether for good or bad – I failed to transform amazement into rage.

2. Along with the computer, I lost the comfort and will need to write.

3. My blog, as the one of countless others, has been blocked for me for a few weeks. now. This is due to the tendency of government leaders – in Israel, for example – to be sometimes more interested in telling people what to think, say, and remember, than in justifying their own leadership by making the people feel actually better. From this it can be understood why I made a special effort to release this hasted post today. well then, 4th of June to you.

Face-Off, the post (not the shitty movie)

2009-05-09T13:51:00.006+08:00

An (originally) short comment about facebook. I hate it. It's slow, it's annoying, and as every sane person, i don't like getting idiotic messages, not to mention the eternal "this and this made a quiz about that and that".

At the same time, i enjoy reading people's statuses, which always brings the most human and at the same time most creative of people, and even the looking at their pictures. Moreover, I do believe in it's ability to maintain relationships, and bring people together.

People are quick to criticize the “fake” friendships, which are based on nothing more than two people knowing each other names. Some are so. But i cannot wonder, how deep do "real" personal friendships really go? I am not talking about the most intimate of friendships (how many of these can an average man have? I'd say no more than 10), but of the ones with other people, who are in the same social circles long enough to be defined as "personal friends". These also can of course be very rewarding, but during my life, I have gotten (and certainly given) the cold shoulder from people regarded as personal long-time friends, and on the other hand, received great help from people who barely knew me.

Take my time in China as an example. Now i have a kind of a house in China, but there was a time i only had bags to move from bed to bed. More than half of it (Beijing, Yinchuan) was spent in other people's (4) houses. Only one of them did I know before coming to China, and also only shallowly. Nonetheless, they have let me into their house. This is, in part, thanks to the world created by networks such as facebook or couchsurfing, according to which, if somebody is a friend of a friend, he's probably also your friend.

Going back to the example i wrote about recently - the guy who is in a "Arab hating" group. with me as a friend, and with the friends i have, i wouldn't rule out the possibility that he's a mere three friend \ Kevin Bacon degrees from a guy in a "hate Israelis" group. Facebook has actually brought them closer together. Us optimistic "friends" can hope it's a matter of time before they realize that - whether they like it or not, whether it be real or virtual - they are part of the same network.

Swine flu has made it to Beijing!

2009-05-07T00:44:00.004+08:00

no, it's just me. but i do enjoy a good swine, when it's still alive and snorting.

so i've made it back to big b, after a long night of hard seat traveling with the rest of us country bumbkins. hard seat costed a hundred yuan less that sleeper class, and i told myself "it's not my first day in China, i can make it", picturing myself happily sleeping despite sitting (i am proud about the unfussiness of my sleeping ability). little did i know that darkness is a luxury kept only for the sleeper class. as in an experiment, everything was left lit, enough reason to push the number of non-sleepers to a majority, which (in a democracy as a democracy) was glad to exert its rights by smoking, laughing, shouting, and of course - loudly playing bad quality music in horrible quality sound out of cellphones. now that's one chinese habit the world could do better without.

but i did manage to sleep, and made it back to the good old warm city, the improved version of the menacing cold city, to which one pale february afternoon a young ambitious traveler came, equiped with nothing but a fully-stamped passport and a dream of studying Mandarin (three-months-old nostalgy... how pathetic can you get?). now it carressed me with its giant buildings, reassuringly showing me how small i am, and with its huge yet already familiar transport system, in which i sat sorrounded by various bejingers, all of them just too cool for school (in comparison with the kaifengers' "too poor for school"). there's nothing as efficient as an underground system in order to remind me how far i am from home.

meeting again with local friends - amongst them the great teacher Zhang, sure was a treat, on top of it new friends, such as the nice mister Ping, who ran into me in this nice Taoist temple, "White Clouds Temple", and showed me around. he has spent a year in Israel back in 1990, studying its agriculture.

so all in all it's been a refreshing two-day experience. tommorow i probably get a new passport, and head back to Henan.

Just another Kaifeng morning...

2009-04-30T15:53:00.004+08:00

“Oh, who is that, rushing on his bicycle through the hutong, almost knocking-off the baozi stand?! Is that little Zhao, or the beautiful yet humble Mei-li? Oh no, that’s 光华. Probably late for class again. He comes from that faraway land where they talk Arabic and fight all the time... you know, somewhere next to Pakistan. I heard from old-man Zhang that he’s been taking his showers at the campus pool, and noise-hard-sound-loud sucking on noodles like there is no tomorrow – so cute, he thinks he’s Chinese! He was so happy to settle in Kaifeng, but seems he will have to schlep soon all the way to Shanghai or Beijing, exactly the monster-cities he has ran away from. No, it's not tourism – he has seen the Wall, as well as the Forbidden City, and couldn’t really care for Shanghai… it’s the visa stuff that urging. Ha-ha-ha, these funny foreigners! How they stream-strong-river-long rush into our Middle Kingdom, without even looking at their papers before that. Yes, he has initially spent three weeks in Beijing, enough time to renew his passport 7 times (not to mention a year and a half back home before that, where he wouldn’t have to pay 450 rmb for issuing a new one). Must have been too busy learning useless literary Chinese vocabulary, or yelling ‘I don’t eat meat, I don’t meat!’ at amazed waiters, to take a look at his passport, just this short little glimpse, and realizing ‘hey, I got no pages left’. Guess those Jews are not as smart as we made them to be after all. Get the 'Jewish Secrets for Making Money' and 'How Smart Jews Control the World' books off the shelves, and put some more of the good old Mao and Deng stuff! Oh, what a wonderful Chinese-style socialism did we build here, what a thriving economy, what an initiative society. Ten-thousand years for Chairman Hu! Ten-thousand miles for stupid Zohar”

Two tales for one independence

2009-04-28T21:47:00.003+08:00

Three years ago i had a chance to work on the bi-lingual school in Jerusalem, where Arab and Jewish kids study together. Wonderful and hopeful place. They tend to mark every event of both people and three religions, the only time during the whole year when they separate between the kids being on Memorial Day \ Independence Day, when the Jews go have their ceremony, and the Arabs stay in class and discuss the situation. After that they meet again for a joint, calm ceremony in which the speak and sing peace. I was given the honor of staying with the Arabs, rather than going to another ceremony, of which i've attended so many. The Arab teacher held a discussion with them, of which I could only understood a small part. I think the major thing she told them, is that this is not only their land, but also their state as anybody else’s, and they shouldn’t forget this. It was a special experience anyway.

*******************

As I came to Qingdao, I met this young Israeli traveler in the hostel. I could easily see by the way he spoke and dressed that he was fresh out of the army. He seemed pretty happy to meet me. We had a breakfast together (I bought him sesame sauce, better known has tahini in our places, and gave him a feeling of home). He told me about his life in the north of Israel, the high-tech job he was newly fired from, and the upcoming studies. We didn’t touch politics, and with our farewell we exchanged, as common nowadays, our names so that we become facebook palls. Two weeks ago I ran into a list of facebook groups you get for right “hate arabs” on facebook. Despicable stuff, ranging from idiotic teenager racism ("i hate them, they are so fucking stinkyyyyyyy!! @#$@$") to downright Nazism (“kill all the Arabs \ drop an atom on Gaza!"). Just as in the movies, i went into one on the more "moderate" pages, and there pops my friend's picture as one of the group's members. I immediately wrote him something in the likes of “what the fuck?!”, and he answered, polite as always, that he has tried to been a good guy, but eventually realized most Arabs don't want us here. well, he's right at that.

****************

I don’t really know what to make of these two stories, just wanted to tell them. My opinion about the future of the land is likewise obvious and obscure, but is based on the (maybe too) simple idea that both people will either die or live together - israelistine is not a zero-sum game. I am hopeful enough to believe that people will eventually have to face it.

Regarding the actual state of Israel (with 61 of age, not a kid anymore, but a very annoying adult) – it’s hard to love a state that is doing the things i've seen, and in which i can find so many faults. But hey – this is what I have, and I am sure happy it's still there, despite great efforts by both Jewish and Muslim radicals to destroy it. Who else will save me once the Chinese get furious for me eating all the rice, or the Germans get mad again? At which other country can i allow myself to sit in prison for my beliefs? And honestly, I have a thing for Bibi, not of today.

If all that isn’t enough, I think I'll continue to be happy about it existence thanks to the wonderful power of spite – a state so widely and thoroughly hated (including by some of my friends) must have something to it. An israelless world would be just too boring, wouldn’t it?

Springing Kaifeng

2009-04-25T15:23:00.005+08:00

Same dusty old town, new refreshing weather. My travels have taken a complete turn, and within a couple of days I have found a school, (probably) a job, and an apartment. The latter still looks like a construction site, with a bed and my things around it, but the fact that it’s on the upper store of a cafe-bar (the one I grew to like and wrote about back then) is enough to rate it “cool as fuck” in any teenager\hippie lexicon.

Right now, I am sitting in the bar downstairs. A rock show is held by a group of excited young pimpled students, surrounded by a handful of enthusiastic classmates. Outside the front window, simple people on their way home from the daily peddling have gathered and are gawking in with big smiles. Wonder if that’s how it felt in the early 60’s.

Leaving that comparison in mind, let me add it’s an off-campus apartment, steps away from Henan University, one of the greenest and liveliest campuses I’ve seen. Everywhere you go – from the sport courts (oh, are the Chinese students into sport, or at least into "sportiness"), to the paths, main square and the food markets around every gate – things are seething with activity. Even my Chinese, now that I have a Chinese roommate and a stable friend circle, finally feels like a language should - feasible and functional.

And so, like during my first stay in town, yet dazed by the blooming season, my mind overflows by daydreams and inner promises about a glorious future supposedly coagulating in front of my eyes: "I am telling you, this place is going places, and if you wish, it won’t be long till the message gets around". Kaifeng rocks.

What's an Yinchuan? \ A Tale of 5 Cities

2009-04-16T22:46:00.006+08:00

"Then it dawned upon me – yes, Yinchuan! this place i (and 99% of you) never heard of, capital of a lost kingdom up in the north. With only one million inhabitants, there is no mistaking about this place: it’s a village, and therefore my next destination."

I wrote these (unpublished) lines almost a month ago, back in the much bigger as expected Xi'an. Now, before I am leaving Yinchuan, i feel it would do injustice to this city not dedicating writing about it. Well, Yinchuan is the small (China-wise) and big (desert-wise) capital of the far-off tiny province\autonomy of Ningxia, just on the brim of the giant, empty province of Inner Mongolia.

Two months ago, still deep in the Beijing jungle, i presented in my Hebrew blog about 5 places I have chosen as potential places for "part B of my time in China - settling-down a bit": Beijing, Qingdao, Kaifeng, Xi’an and Yinchuan (of which I only inadvertently heard). I never thought i would made it to all of them, but each one seemed good, yet none perfect, and my indecisiveness and stubbornness brought me always forward.

Beijing has many foreigners, culture, history, high prices, subway-system and the feeling of a world-town; Qingdao has history, beautiful beaches, great buses, a nice foreign community, a sweet hostel and a lot of style; Kaifeng has Jews, a nice university, very cheap prices, history, old-China feeling; Xi’an had another sweet hostel, many foreigners, history, and a huge building boom.

Yinchuan has none of the above. It’s just a simple, nicely developing city in the middle of nowhere China, with great air and good people. But i was wrong in what i wrote above - it is a city for all its worth. Many people, wide avenues, markets, a skyscraper or two, big hotels, malls (don't worry, folks, the Chinese buying spray is still going on, the world is saved!) and only Chinese. Almost no foreigners come here, and the ones that do all retell their path to here in a semi-mystical tone, as if it was a scene out of “Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind”. Something led us here.

(Something weird happens, by the way, when one spends three weeks roaming the streets and seeing only Chinese: the contrast is gone, and people don't really look Chinese anymore)

Back to the fivesome. The average modern Chinese, who dislikes small towns and yearns for dazzling touristic places, would have rated these 5 cities as follows: 1. Beijing, 2. Xi’an 3. Qingdao, 4. Yinchuan and Kaifeng (regarding the latter, there was mostly astonishment when people heard i love it enough to want to live in it. i can imagine how would people react to the former). At least at this period of my travels, i'd have rated it exactly upside upside-down, maybe with Beijing a bit above.

But they are all good, and offer their share of living. And indeed, as i made it here, knowing my road ends here and it's decision time, every one of the five was back on the table, an alluring possibility. That's why i didn't right a lot recently, there was really not much going on, other than endless calculations and deliberations. i hate it when i become "that guy".

But now i'm set - it's back to Kaifeng for me. I think. Pretty much sure.

China-man (or: it's a wonderful China - part 3 and last)

2009-04-15T12:01:00.004+08:00

你是哪国人？(direct translation: “you are which country man?”).

No matter how heavy the accent or weird the dialect, foreigners in China always understand this question, simply as it is usually the first one thrown at them.

(actually, it is almost always on top of the list at any international encounter. This leads many to believe that nationality is an obvious matter. Yet if I let people guess mine, even westerners rarely say “Israel” within the first 10 guesses)

Anyway, as someone sick of consistently answering 以色列 (Israel) to this question, I occasionally answer 中国人! (China-man!). That’s a old and lame joke, which is used by western travelers all over the “south of the world”, usually (well, in India at least) rewarded with a gust of healthy laughter. However, simple Chinese don’t react so straightaway. Maybe it's because they are not into jokes on first acquaintance, but also because their definition of China-man might be pretty loose, they don't know how to face my answer.

不可能! (this can’t be!) exclaims the old lady running the restaurant I came into, and adds something about my face not looking Chinese.
可以吧,新疆人（oh, it can be. he’s Xinjiang man）, tells her one of her waiters. She was appeased.

I don’t exactly know why, but this makes me feel good. These people for example originally come from Sichuan, also a relatively far and different province. Yet their life is so simple and their country so vast, that they can still believe that the green-eyed light-haired person in front of them is a Chinese.

It is no coincidence that Chinese are the biggest people in the world. In stark contrast from their neighbors to the east (or from their "neighbors" in the Middle-East), they are very inclusive in their national perspectives. Even their foreign rulers – the Jurchens (Jin Dynasty), the Mongolians (Yuan Dynasty) the Manchurians (Qing Dynasty) – eventually got considerably assimilated, and defined themselves as Chinese. This is also reflected in today’s attitude, for better and for worse: for most Chinese, if you’re from Chinese descent, then you’re Chinese. If you are Uighur, Tibetan, Mongolian, Manchurian or any other minority on the premises – you’re not Han, but you’re Chinese.

And if you speak some Chinese, you are well on your way (no, that was just my heart wish speaking).

Nice

2009-04-10T15:47:00.009+08:00

“And you know something? Chinese are reeeeaaaly nice”

Before coming to China, I heard this sentence twice, with the same intonation letting out the same surprise of the speaker. As it is important for me to share with you a similar impression, i am hesitantly walking into this minefield of generalized discussion, just a few minor steps.

We all know Germans are accurate, Italians are boisterous, French cook well, Spaniards and Latinos are laid-back, Japanese are diligent, Indians are serene and other positive and considerably true stereotypes. However, when we say Chinese, many think patriarchs, ancient culture, mandarins. Stiffness, rather than open-heartedness, seems to be the dominant association.

But after two months in China, I feel this cultural stiffness poorly represents most Chinese people (and especially my readers :). Everywhere I went, people were extremely open and helpful – inviting me to eat, showing me around, and just happy I was there (no, it’s not what you’re thinking – in most of the cases, they absolutely refused accepting my money). A few were Muslim, and didn’t have the slightest care about me being Israeli. At least to my impression, in inner-land China, inter-religious hatred is unimaginable. "here in China we all live together, in harmony".

Why are they nice to foreigners? It’s not as if they lack colonial past, and therefore bear no hard feelings. We are talking of one of the most humiliated countries of colonial times. Germany, Russia, the US, France, and of course – the British and Japanese Empires – everybody wanted their piece. Yes, many Chinese I met admittedly disliked Japan, in a way similar to the way some Israelis hate Germany. However, having traveled a bit with Japanese here, we were warmly accepted everywhere.

Maybe it's in the culture. Right now, for example, I am staying for a few weeks at the home of somebody I never met, a friend of a friend. Having heard I am coming to Yinchuan, she insisted that I pick up the keys for her mother’s apartment (as she was not in town), and has practically let a stranger into her house.

I am not here to make comparisons. People are nice all over the world. I bet you people in Kuwait, Greece, Ghana or Nicaragua could be as warm and welcoming. I know as a fact Israelis are. However, Chinese are not just another people, but the world’s largest. How can it be that almost nobody in the west knows their nature?

I wonder what’s to blame. Is it civilization gap? I guess; geographical distance? sure enough; the media? most probably; politics? you betcha. Maybe it is also the giant cities, Beijing and Shanghai, which are more alienated, yet serve as the front-window to China.

Or maybe it’s a new thing. Maybe, just like their state, so did the Chinese only began opening themselves up in the last decades, and devolved from a stiff and xenophobic society, to a welcoming one. And maybe it’s because I speak some Chinese.

Enough of this subject, these generalizations make me feel nauseous. Furthermore, I am quite sure I will be rewarded for this ethnic blabber with a negative experience, already in the coming days.

Actually, I already had it! More on that another time. In the meantime let me assure you: most Chinese are reeeaaly nice.

**********************

speaking of Japanese travelers, here are a few photos, especially from the bike-ride on the ancient walls surrounding Xi'an (magnificent), courtesy of Nori, who is already back in Tokyo for studies.

no, we didn't really ride this thing (you can see how entertained we are from the idea). it was mostly for the sake of the picture.

the silver river (银川)

2009-04-06T22:33:00.005+08:00

Long time no post. there hasn't also much to tell, but what there is lies in my paso-con (a Japanese abreviation of "personal computer". it would be English some day), and Yinchuan, the city where i am now, has turned to be a great place, yet failed so far in supplying me with precious wireless access.

****************

In the spirit of times, and bearing in mind we don't know where we're headed to, let me run some (only partially ampirical) financial numbers:

*A regular payment to a foreigner for one hour of English teaching in Yinchuan - 75-100 Yuan; 50-75 in Kaifeng, 100-200 in Beijing.
*An average rent for an apartment in downtown Yinchuan - 500-700 Yuan; 300-500 in Kaifeng; 3000-6000 in Beijing.

(technical break)

Yes, those of you who bothered to sum it up, got it right. Some 5 hours of work in Yinchuan or Kaifeng, and you might have earned your monthly apartment rent. If you are a restaurant goer (of the non-connosseur type, as yours truly), 5 more hours and you can forget about cooking for yourself. Not bad for one work day, and no wonder there is already a small society of happy and lumpy foreigners in China.

For those of you actually belonging to this society: sorry, i had to let this secret out. But hey - dinner's on me.

何でも良い

2009-03-26T13:07:00.004+08:00

Here’s a small and insignificant proof that the world is getting smaller, and civilization gaps narrower. In the past, it could have taken some surprising minutes, sometimes even a pen and paper, in order for the non-Israeli in front of me to understand my middle-eastern funny sounding name. I was Zoha, Zala, Zara, Jua (India…), Zaha, Zora and even Zoe. These days, most people – well, especially non-Chinese – seem to get my name immediately. Some even go as far as asking me if I like cutting hair, and what do I think of Adam Sandler. Till now I have been captiously correcting them, but I guess there would come a time when I would just let it go. You don’t mess with a Zohan.

Medium rare

2009-03-24T16:18:00.007+08:00

“No sports, no rock, no information, for mindless chatter – we’re your station!”
(the Simpsons' KBBL radio jingle)

Sometimes being a workless traveler slash ”freelance” student can be really tough. You don’t have any structure to work in. It’s almost 11 am, and I am still in my pajamas, struggling to find something else to read, some additional piece of data. When all is done, I resort, again and again, to the Israeli news, to acquire some new peace of data. Maybe a kindergarten using new techniques was opened in Tiberius, maybe there is another reportage about the building extension in the settlements, or (as I just saw today) a list of Israel’s “10 best falafels!”.

I first experienced it when I was living in Berlin – this adherence to the Israeli papers, first and foremost “Haaretz”. I am not alone. I have an Israeli friend who has been living for more than five years now in Berlin, and still, every time I saw him open the computer, he checks Haaretz. I guess we do it out of a mixture of boredom, genuine interest and routine – your fingers just slip over automatically, after you read your last e-mail.

On top of that is the society we come from and (on and off) live in. According to a research I have heard of during my studies, the Israeli society is unique in the huge disparity between the high amount of time citizens spend in acquiring news and discussing politics (and Israel is indeed a pretty interesting country to live in), and their negligible belief in their own ability to change the situation they so habitually consume. This sure explains a lot, and I won’t be surprised to find out the Palestinians take second place.

In a way, a similar disparity is reflected in almost all Israelis I know, especially in my circle of friends, who can be clearly distinguished between the ones who plunder these pages daily (usually people working with a computer. They check NRG and Ynet too), and the ones completely out of the loop.

Sure, it’s important for me as an Israeli and an activist to stay updated. Yet how can reading Haaretz daily help me? I usually recommend it to foreigners, it might really help them understand the situation. But for us natives, it’s simply the same stuff every day. It’s not that by reading it I get any smarter, get to know my country better. Most of it is simply politicians’ blabber, discouraging reports and maybe an occasionally enlightening yet worn-out commentary in between. The attention to what’s going on in the world which actually surrounds our small dark bubble might be increasing, now with the crisis and all, yet is still minor, some kind of back-cover amusement.

Well, now it’s over, I tell you! I am going to be an updated yet newsfeed-free Israeli. As long as nothing extreme happens (oh, it will) and as long as I am out of the country, I will just let the Zipis, the Bibis and the Libis do their thing. I hereby promise to open Haaretz only once a week (Friday, usually the time homesickness kicks in). The rest of the time, I will settle for Asahi shinbun, New-York times, China Times and Süddeutsche Zeitung. Who knows, maybe they got some middle-east section…

******************

this post was written about three weeks ago, yet I decided to wait with it, and see whether i can keep my promise. well, so far so good, and with nice results too. the scattered news i do get from Israel, especially from Netanyahu's never-ending and depressing coalition negotiations, make me even more determined.

the specials

2009-03-21T19:06:00.010+08:00

It was definitely one of the most exciting moments in my travels, and my Jewish life. In a small, humble room, thousand of Miles away from the home, or from the Beijing and Shanghai synagogues, six Chinese and one Israeli were receiving the Shabat together. There was something both extremely encouraging and dispiriting in watching these few lonely Jews, that with one stroke of a Kipah seemed suddenly less like their fellow citizens, and much more like their “brothers”, the ones I met in Caracas, Indiana, Berlin, Jerusalem or Dharamsala. I thought of my mother, who would have doubtless burst in tears of excitement being there. Even I, while reading the blessing in Hebrew (the honor of the extinguished guest), got something caught in the eye. Heck, what are forty years in the desert in comparison with the wonder of a thousand in nowhere China?

But as far as I gathered (not much), the Jewish community of Kaifeng is today far from being a thriving community. Internal fighting about prestige, authentication and – of course – money, tore this rare flock apart. To that you can add the long years of being treated like some marvelous zoo animal, and the cold shoulder they have presumably been given from China, and from Israel’s governmental and Jewish authorities.

“I wanted to study in Israel”, told me a 20-something youth, the only one who could read and understand the words Sh’ma Israel on my Kipah. “The China government has no problem with people leaving the country. My petition for a visa was rejected on the part of Israel. At first there was no institution to accept us, then when that was found the government itself didn’t want us. Maybe now that the government is changing again.”

"I will be their savior!", I was flushed with inspiration during the service, "I will contact the Israeli Embassy, I will make Kaifeng my home, live amongst them, grow to speak their local dialect (which makes Mandarin feel as familiar and explicit as English), and will teach them Hebrew. Together, we will create a real, world-wide known community! One that people, especially Israelis and Jews, would love to come and be a part of. We will build a hostel for these travelers, maybe even a synagogue. If we built it, they will come!"

Quickly enough crept the anti-thoughts in: screw this. Finding out that you are different in China’s giant masses must be every young Han’s dream, on a par of winning the lottery. Yet instead of bringing them together, their uniqueness brought them more apart. Instead of acting together to sustain some kind of identity, some right of existence, they have succumbed to the old way of doing things – grudge, social accounting, connections, competitions, feuds. Guess being both Chinese and Jewish is simply too much tension and guilt-trips to withhold. Kaifeng has great potential, but they are grown-up people, and if they do not feel like pulling themselves together, I should not get myself all mixed-up. And anyhow, let them do their own thing. They have lasted for a thousand years, and can last another without a conceited well-wisher coming to tell them how to do things.

*********************

The final result is somewhere in between. But for now, this dilemma was spared. I just arrived to the big Xi'an, and may have left Kaifeng totally, in search of a place where I can get a Visa.

开封ing

2009-03-17T19:41:00.005+08:00

Back in the days, I hated hearing foreigners speaking about their experiences in China. First, it was mostly about food, and then it was meat meat meat meat (“Oh, you’re vegetarian? So why do you want to go to China?!”). Second, as almost the only one who still wasn’t there, I was envious. On top of it, I also had some auto-semi-racist fears about coming to China after it would all be tarnished by the west, exploding with foreigners running around the streets, polluting our beautiful environment with their terrible toneless Chinese (still better than mine, but does that stand for something?). While Beijing and Qingdao might have somehow confirm my fears to some small extent, then came Kaifeng and pacified me completely. We Kaifeng foreigners are few and proud, but especially few. The last couple of days were the first in China during which I saw no foreigner whatsoever. Not that I don’t want to see them, they are great, but it is still nice to know I have the possibility to detach myself completely.

Weather is great, it’s smells like spring and the city is nice. These were “twin-days” – wake up early in the morning (here in the country, it’s so lovely. Bed at 23, wake at 7); stay in bed in front of the computer and TV; eat lunch; go to my friends’ house to work on translating stuff; go out – one time dancing with her parents (her dad took my hands and tried to teach me), and yesterday to the Kaifeng night market, located in a cool bustling downtown, just several minutes walk away.

星吧 (Pub Star)

2009-03-14T21:38:00.004+08:00

When speaking of China’s economic boom (and ignoring its vague future), everything is only still at an early stage in Kaifeng. These lines are being written in the freshly opened “Pub star”. As far as I (and the locals I talked with) know, it’s Kaifeng’s first bar, if you go by the good definition of a bar, as a place cool people can hang around and nice music is played, and not as a place where a hundred male Chinese huddle together to play cards, smoke, and occasionally begin a generation-long vendetta.

Kaifeng is not nearly as big and modern as its neighbor city Zhengzhou, capital of Henan, but it does have a lot of potential, and is house to the most prestigious university in the most-populated province of China – Henan University. The campus is nice and well taken-care of, filled and surrounded by a genuine university atmosphere – young and cute students walking around, many in groups, laughing a lot. Yet the study A LOT, and most of what they do in their free time is eat (that's simply the good-old Chinese way. No, it’s not culture, it’s the economy, stupid – food here is considerably cheaper than drinks), linger on the computer in internet spots and run back to the university before curfew. The idea of having an alternative (or shall I say western?) good time is still foreign to most of them. Yet sometimes one bar\cafe is capable of changing everything. Yes, it’s Saturday evening, and I am sitting here alone right now, but 5 bucks says it is a whole party complex in a few years.

Here Comes Another One

2009-03-11T15:08:00.006+08:00

I am sitting in my bed right now, trying to reflect as quickly as I can the day that just passed, before the enthusiasm fades away, as it always does.

Oh, man, how I love traveling sometimes. I’ll just give you the highlights – I arrived to the city of Kaifeng at 6:30 in the morning, tired and cold after a long train from Qingdao. It used to be the capital of the Northern Song dynasty, and if I know my Chinese history – and I don’t, but you’d have to take my word, or go to wikipedia – the first city in the world to cross the one million inhabitants. It was at that time and to that bustling metropolis that a group of Jewish Indian immigrants allegedly made their way, and got the emperor's permission to settle. Today it is a run-down (literally, as floods from the Yellow River covered the city a few times), gray city in the middle of China, maybe a tourist spot to some extent, but not much more. It’s nothing like the two cities I have been so far, and anything like the ones in the movies – no skyscrapers (the buried cities don’t allow that); no English; no foreigners (50, estimated one that I met, which in a way makes my humble arrival an event not only in the Jewish community scale); walkable distances; a million bikes and autorickshaws; and a chicken here and there. Judging by the clean alleys and clothes, it is no poor city, just humble and simple. An American I met told me he pays 500 Yuan (75 US) monthly for a two bed-room apartment in a great spot, and still hears being told that it is too much. I know people who pay four times that amount for a room in Beijing. The language is weird, not so much the dialect as the intonations – the locals replace the first and third tones. For one who has been studying the tones so tenaciously (I gave them the greatest attention from starters, as I gathered them to be my weakest point, due to my utterly unmusical ears) this amounts to sacrilegious.

Speaking of faith, guess who I found here. You might say I have couchsurfed the good-old way – walking from alley to Hutong loaded with my cargo, telling people “take me to your Jews”. And they did. I suddenly found myself in a Chinese house, which was everything Chinese other than the pictures in Hebrew on the walls, and a few menorahs. 200 Jews still live in Kaifeng, told me the nice young host, Guo Yan, who as opposed to her husband could speak Mandarin. Her cousin is in Jerusalem, studies Hebrew. She herself is there to receive the coming visitors and Jews (me being the first one to come to study Chinese), and hopes to establish some small museum for Kaifeng Jews. Interesting stuff.

The day continued with a short visit to the musk (I had to pee. “we never had any problems with the Muslims”, refuted my host my wikipedia-based question, adding something like “they don’t care”); finding my "guest house" (it stands up to this definition only to the extent of it being a house, me being a guest, and some small amount of money changing hands. It does have my first electric mattress though); going with Guo to check about studies in Henan University (doesn’t look to good, too expensive for a probably low lever. finding a job as a teacher might be better); visiting Library Shalom, the university’s Jewish history room (“Our department is in the top 3 Jewish departments in China”, laughed the guy sitting there alone reading, “all in all it’s us, Shanghai and Beijing. Top 3!”); meeting a couple of other foreigners, and going all together eating. Walking through the dark streets back home, munching on some local cookie, I couldn't help but feeling grateful.

青岛

2009-03-04T09:20:00.000+08:00

Do you know that thing sometimes in movies? Out of some kind of weird turn of events, the protagonist arrives at some peaceful place, a haven of some sort. The lighting is bright, the view a bit blurry, people are tender and calm, the kids are all wearing white, singing. Yet there always some catch. Maybe our hero is dead, maybe dreaming, maybe the place conceals a dreadful secret, and maybe the cruel world around is just about to cave in.

In a way, this is the feeling for me these days in Qingdao ("green Island"). Ever heard of this place? I am not even sure anymore if I knew of it till more than a month ago. Well, I heard German colonialism, of good beer. People told me it is an awesome city. I thought about a big city, very touristic. Nothing prepared for this city, which seems to have everything good to offer – clean beaches and alleys； shiny huge skyscrapers and broad, spacious streets in the new part of town； a nicely kept old barrio, with a great hostel to stay at； lively and not too posh nightlife; a proud yet not hedonistic foreign community; good food; a big park in the middle of the city; great air; San-Fransisco (or Haifa) style inhabited hills with a great view; a small city feeling (This city is supposed to be housing a population larger than Israel's. From the looks of it, I wouldn't give it more than a million). Mostly responsible for all that is of course the population itself, both local and foreign. All radiate satisfaction, mildness... health.

I know what you are thinking – "the guy has fallen prey to the oldest traveler mistake, spending his time in the nice side of town, rubbing shoulders with the plump elites, and disregarding the misery of the rest". Well, a bit. But I have also walked through the poor market, witnessing nothing but calm faces and nicely undertaken dense living. I have been to the police bureau; all clean, few people, and no cutting in line. Heck, I have been to the hospital, and all I have seen were smiling aunties and a laid-back doctor, sitting alone in his room, reading a newspaper at midday.

I am not fooling myself. The experience is subjective, and the catch is there to be found, some kind of dreadful truth. Or maybe I am just dreaming. But for now - does that make it less authentic?

****

I am here for the coming days, and afterward it’s probably on to Kaifeng and Xi’an. After I see these two cities, I will decide where do I wish to stay and study.

new blog, global language

2009-03-03T18:56:00.000+08:00

“Writing”, wrote a professor of mine, in a spread sheet dedicated to writing essays, “entails a submission, an exposure”. This goes also for this first post in my brand new blog. For years I have submitted myself away from my best foreign language, English. I have been studying everything language possible, and writing a blog in Hebrew, which I intend to keep alive. Now I am submitting myself back. I have lost this imagined mutiny against our master language. Those of you who know my passion for languages would easily understand how hard a step it is for me to admit that.

It’s not that I hate English, not at all. However, I do hate to think of the unilingual world that English represents. But having recently written a paper glorifying the language reforms made in Japan in the last 150 years, which compromised an entrenched culture for better communication and practically for democracy, my thoughts changed a bit. And after seeing tiny Chinese kids being encouraged to sing for me “good morning to you” from their non-English speaking parents, something inside me broke. If the Chinese are willing to let it go, who am I to be the last man rushing from tower to tower along the Great Wall.

I still intend to use a few other languages in this blog. But that would mean consciously disregarding languages’ most important feature – communication. When I toilingly write something, I want to reach as many people and friends as I can. I guess 90% of the people I know can read English, which gives it about a 40% lead over Hebrew, and 60% over German, not to speak of Chinese and Japanese. These are huge differences, in front of which even a tenacious polyglot like me can’t remain silent. I am simply missing a whole bunch of beloved readership with every passing non-English word.

Just to be sure: I am not compromising for quality in exchange for quantity. English is actually my best foreign language, and there probably won’t be any foreign language in which I am better than in English, no matter how much Thomas Mann or Haruki Murakami I read.

One might see it as a sign for the end of my language rage, and maybe even as the end of my travels. I would rather see it as the beginning of a more mature attitude towards languages, and towards the world I am living in.