"We cannot install your Dude-Shemesh (Solar-Powered Boiler). We tried to, but the owner of the building saw that we were trying to install it, and he came with the police, and his papers proving that he owns the roof of your building, and told us we can not put a Dude-Shemesh on his roof"
"Is there a reason? Is there anything else on the roof?"
"No."
Kol Tuv,
Michael
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
New Idea
If anyone is still reading this blog, I realized that it must be pretty boring, considering I only seem to update it about once a month with some boring stories about my water heater.
So I just had the idea that I would try to post something EVERY DAY. That's right. You heard me. EVERY DAY. And not just anything...
I decided I will post the funniest, silliest, most Israeli thing I have seen/heard/done that day. I will call it the "DIB-Moment of the Day." (To those of you that don't know what "DIB" means, go here; it is the fifth on the list). To those of you unfortunate enough to know the true "DIB" essence, I must admit that this daily post may at times (and even often) deviate from true DIBishness, but I just thought the name was funny.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you 24/3/08's DIB-Moment of the Day:
"I talked to the janitor about putting more liquid soap in the bathroom, since it's been out for the past week. He told me he won't do it, because the construction workers from upstairs are stealing it."
byebye,
Michael
So I just had the idea that I would try to post something EVERY DAY. That's right. You heard me. EVERY DAY. And not just anything...
I decided I will post the funniest, silliest, most Israeli thing I have seen/heard/done that day. I will call it the "DIB-Moment of the Day." (To those of you that don't know what "DIB" means, go here; it is the fifth on the list). To those of you unfortunate enough to know the true "DIB" essence, I must admit that this daily post may at times (and even often) deviate from true DIBishness, but I just thought the name was funny.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you 24/3/08's DIB-Moment of the Day:
"I talked to the janitor about putting more liquid soap in the bathroom, since it's been out for the past week. He told me he won't do it, because the construction workers from upstairs are stealing it."
byebye,
Michael
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Dude, Z"L
In Memoriam:
At 7:55 AM this morning, March 23rd, 2008, my dude, the bearer of my hot water, the heart and soul of the plumbing system at Shikmona 1/3, was pronounced dead by officials from "Home Center." [In their exact words, "Ken. HaDude holech." or "Yes, the Dude is gone."]
Having served this residence for at least the past 7 months, and probably decades before, the dude was a vital part of my life. He not only provided me with my daily bathing, but also helped ease the pain of washing dishes, and made boiling water easier when I would fill the pot with hot water from the dude before putting it on the flame.
"
The Dude's burial is slated for tomorrow. Though he will be replaced (hopefully) with a sleeker, more environmentally friendly model (a "dude shemesh" or "solar dude"), it will never be fully replaced in my heart.
Condolence calls can be made at Shikmona 1/3 between 10-11 PM, and donations can be made to the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers."
Below is an excerpt from his eulogy earlier today.
Good night, sweet prince.
-----------------------------
"The dude was a good dude. He was one of us. He was a dude who loved the outdoors... and bowling, and as a surfer he explored the beaches of Bat Galim, from the Navy Beach to the Church Beach and... up to... Hof HaCarmel. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young dudes at Tzefat, at Chinese Farm, at Hill 18..."
At 7:55 AM this morning, March 23rd, 2008, my dude, the bearer of my hot water, the heart and soul of the plumbing system at Shikmona 1/3, was pronounced dead by officials from "Home Center." [In their exact words, "Ken. HaDude holech." or "Yes, the Dude is gone."]
Having served this residence for at least the past 7 months, and probably decades before, the dude was a vital part of my life. He not only provided me with my daily bathing, but also helped ease the pain of washing dishes, and made boiling water easier when I would fill the pot with hot water from the dude before putting it on the flame.
"
The Dude's burial is slated for tomorrow. Though he will be replaced (hopefully) with a sleeker, more environmentally friendly model (a "dude shemesh" or "solar dude"), it will never be fully replaced in my heart.
Condolence calls can be made at Shikmona 1/3 between 10-11 PM, and donations can be made to the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers."
Below is an excerpt from his eulogy earlier today.
Good night, sweet prince.
-----------------------------
"The dude was a good dude. He was one of us. He was a dude who loved the outdoors... and bowling, and as a surfer he explored the beaches of Bat Galim, from the Navy Beach to the Church Beach and... up to... Hof HaCarmel. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young dudes at Tzefat, at Chinese Farm, at Hill 18..."
Friday, March 14, 2008
Not-Very-Interesting-Post
I guess I would call it that because, unlike last week, this week has been nearly completely without the normal weird occurrences that seem to follow me around Israel like a particularly weird dark cloud. Maybe I'll throw in some of my filler "political commentary," or, maybe I will not subject you to such torture.
I guess this week has been so uneventful because I spent much of it safely inside the confines of the library of the Bruce Rappaport Faculty of Medicine. As I am med student, I guess this should be the norm, yet I think the reason I mention it here is because I may have gone a bit overboard this week, and spent a bit too much time there. I think I need a hobby of some sorts to drag me out sometimes.
Actually, I'm going to go now. I guess this post really lived up to its name. I'll try to make the next one worth reading.
Sorry,
Michael
I guess this week has been so uneventful because I spent much of it safely inside the confines of the library of the Bruce Rappaport Faculty of Medicine. As I am med student, I guess this should be the norm, yet I think the reason I mention it here is because I may have gone a bit overboard this week, and spent a bit too much time there. I think I need a hobby of some sorts to drag me out sometimes.
Actually, I'm going to go now. I guess this post really lived up to its name. I'll try to make the next one worth reading.
Sorry,
Michael
Friday, March 07, 2008
Strange Week
For those of you who I haven't regaled with my Twilight-Zone-worthy week, I will put a short summary of the weird things that have happened to me since last Sunday.
Starting on Sunday afternoon, I found myself at "Kanyon Haifa" (the Haifa mall), looking to change some (nearly worthless) dollars into (Monopoly money) Shekels. Finding that the rate had dipped too low for me to in good conscious change money, I retreated over to the Supersol (grocery store) to buy some groceries. After stocking up on the necessities (hummuous, pita, schug (Middle Eastern chili sauce), frozen pizza), I went on a quest to find some packaged gnocchi that I had previously eaten that had been quite good. Joining me in this search was Daniel Ostro, a fellow med student who had the bad fortune of being born in Canada.
After about 15 minutes of our search, we finally found the small Italian section of the Supersol, which included the sought-after gnocchi. While comparing the various brands the Supersol had to offer, a short, funny lady approached us and starting asking about the relative merits of...gnocchi. "Is that any good?" she asked (in Hebrew, of course). "Definitely. It's very tasty," I responded. What followed was a five minute conversation about how she had heard that gnocchi was good, but never tried it, and was excited to find someone who backed up the claim that it was good, even though that someone was some random guy (me) at the Supersol in Kanyon Haifa. After this small talk, as she was walking away, Danial turned to me and asked me something in English.
"Wait---are you two from outside of Israel?" she asked (the term she used was "Chool", which is an acronymn all Israelis use for countries that are not Israel, meaning "outside of the land"). I replied that, yes, we were both from the States. Daniel, looking somewhat insulted, butted in that he was not, in fact, from the states, but from Canada. As if it mattered.
She then went on to tell us that she had been to Boston for work. I told her I was in Boston for University, but that I was actually for Indiana. We were starting to part ways, when she started saying something about how she also had family in Boston: the Suissa Family.
I stared at her for a second, a bit weirded out by the comment, and asked her if she knew Paz Suissa. "Paz Suissa! That is my niece!" she screamed. Now, it should come to no one as a revelation that Jewish people LOVE playing "Jewish Geography"---the game where we find out if you know the people that I know from a certain place. Why we, as a People, enjoy this game so much is somewhat obvious: the feeling of discovering that the world is full of connections we are not aware of, and that it is much smaller than we sometimes think it is is somewhat satisfying. Either way, it may surprise some people to know that Israelis, more than other Jewish people, have an almost perverse pleasure in this game, and Paz's aunt (Vivian?) was no exception. She nearly acted as if she had just discovered a long lost brother in me.
"Paz Suissa dated my brother," I explained to her. "To tell the truth, I don't think they are dating any longer." This didn't really seem to faze her. She insisted that I write down my name, my brother's name, and my phone number (to come over to her house for some future meal, which she promised, looking at my Kippah, would be kosher).
So much for crazy story number one.
The next day, after hours of toiling away at my physiology textbook in the library, I emerged from the "Faculta" (the strange word they use for the med school building) around 8 pm to go my weekly basketball game at the Technion main campus. As I was leaving the building, about 50 yards away I saw a couple walking towards the Meyer Children's Hospital that is next door to the medical school. Something about them---I'm really not sure what---reminded me of my 8th Grade teacher and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Edelstien. I called out his name ("Mr. Edelstien!"), and he spun around to find out who it was that was calling his name.
I'm not sure if he was more surprised to find me studying in Haifa, or that I was able to recognize him from so far away. Either way, him and his wife then went on a tirade, chastising me for not getting in contact with them sooner. I apologized profusely, and they invited me over for Shabbat (where I will be going to shortly).
That's crazy story number 2.
The third strange occurrence this week was at a party celebrating the release of my friend and former next-door-neighbor (in Indiana), Danny Farahan (ben David, as he now adds), from the Israeli Army. Having done 2.5 years of service in the IDF, he is now planning on doing some traveling, including hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Either way, as we met up at Mike's Place in Tel Aviv, I was sitting talking to his former roommates from Hebrew University, when they asked me what I was doing in Israel. "Oh, I'm studying medicine at the Technion." "Really? Hey, Ben, don't we know someone who is studying medicine at the Technion?" "Hey---isn't Sherman there?"
"Do you mean Michael Sherman?" I asked. "YEAH! Hey---do you know Sherman?" "Yes, I know Sherman. He's my roommate. How do you guys know him?" "No F**King way! Michael Sherman was OUR roommate at Hebrew University four years ago.....Hey Danny, guess who Michael here is living with?" "Who?" "Michael Sherman!"
So it ends up that Michael Sherman has lived with both me and Danny Farahan, and never made the connection. When I asked him about it, he looked confused and said, "Wait---Danny Farahan is from Indiana?"
So, yeah, this week has been pretty crazy. There's also been some studying of medicine in there as well. Classes are actually going pretty well so far. I'm taking Physiology, Histology, Endocrinology, Anatomy II, Biochemistry II, First Aid, Genetics, and Hebrew this term. It's going to be a tough semester, but I am enjoying the classes. Also, last night I attended Shmuel (Sam) Korb's second (and hopefully final) Tekes (or graduation) from his Officer's Course on the Navy Base. (Picture of me, Shmuel, and two of the Gershons, after the Tekes):
Unfortunately, this week has ended with the terrorist attack on the Merkaz HaRav Kook Yeshiva in Jerusalem---G-d should console all of the families of those who lost sons, grandsons, and brothers under the gates of Zion and Jerusalem. My angry response below was (clearly) a bit emotional, but I stand by it. My only correction to it is the claim that horrible events like these bring the Jewish people closer together. Unfortunately, I feel that an event such as this one---targeting the sector of the population that already feels that too much security has been compromised in the name of a delusional peace process---will only lead to further harmed relations between the various sectors of the Israeli Jewish population.
I also realize that I haven't really written since my trip to the States. I want to thank everyone who came to my parties (in Indianapolis and NYC). It was great to see everyone, and I hope to be back soon to visit.
I need to go get ready for Shabbat. I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom.
Michael
Starting on Sunday afternoon, I found myself at "Kanyon Haifa" (the Haifa mall), looking to change some (nearly worthless) dollars into (Monopoly money) Shekels. Finding that the rate had dipped too low for me to in good conscious change money, I retreated over to the Supersol (grocery store) to buy some groceries. After stocking up on the necessities (hummuous, pita, schug (Middle Eastern chili sauce), frozen pizza), I went on a quest to find some packaged gnocchi that I had previously eaten that had been quite good. Joining me in this search was Daniel Ostro, a fellow med student who had the bad fortune of being born in Canada.
After about 15 minutes of our search, we finally found the small Italian section of the Supersol, which included the sought-after gnocchi. While comparing the various brands the Supersol had to offer, a short, funny lady approached us and starting asking about the relative merits of...gnocchi. "Is that any good?" she asked (in Hebrew, of course). "Definitely. It's very tasty," I responded. What followed was a five minute conversation about how she had heard that gnocchi was good, but never tried it, and was excited to find someone who backed up the claim that it was good, even though that someone was some random guy (me) at the Supersol in Kanyon Haifa. After this small talk, as she was walking away, Danial turned to me and asked me something in English.
"Wait---are you two from outside of Israel?" she asked (the term she used was "Chool", which is an acronymn all Israelis use for countries that are not Israel, meaning "outside of the land"). I replied that, yes, we were both from the States. Daniel, looking somewhat insulted, butted in that he was not, in fact, from the states, but from Canada. As if it mattered.
She then went on to tell us that she had been to Boston for work. I told her I was in Boston for University, but that I was actually for Indiana. We were starting to part ways, when she started saying something about how she also had family in Boston: the Suissa Family.
I stared at her for a second, a bit weirded out by the comment, and asked her if she knew Paz Suissa. "Paz Suissa! That is my niece!" she screamed. Now, it should come to no one as a revelation that Jewish people LOVE playing "Jewish Geography"---the game where we find out if you know the people that I know from a certain place. Why we, as a People, enjoy this game so much is somewhat obvious: the feeling of discovering that the world is full of connections we are not aware of, and that it is much smaller than we sometimes think it is is somewhat satisfying. Either way, it may surprise some people to know that Israelis, more than other Jewish people, have an almost perverse pleasure in this game, and Paz's aunt (Vivian?) was no exception. She nearly acted as if she had just discovered a long lost brother in me.
"Paz Suissa dated my brother," I explained to her. "To tell the truth, I don't think they are dating any longer." This didn't really seem to faze her. She insisted that I write down my name, my brother's name, and my phone number (to come over to her house for some future meal, which she promised, looking at my Kippah, would be kosher).
So much for crazy story number one.
The next day, after hours of toiling away at my physiology textbook in the library, I emerged from the "Faculta" (the strange word they use for the med school building) around 8 pm to go my weekly basketball game at the Technion main campus. As I was leaving the building, about 50 yards away I saw a couple walking towards the Meyer Children's Hospital that is next door to the medical school. Something about them---I'm really not sure what---reminded me of my 8th Grade teacher and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Edelstien. I called out his name ("Mr. Edelstien!"), and he spun around to find out who it was that was calling his name.
I'm not sure if he was more surprised to find me studying in Haifa, or that I was able to recognize him from so far away. Either way, him and his wife then went on a tirade, chastising me for not getting in contact with them sooner. I apologized profusely, and they invited me over for Shabbat (where I will be going to shortly).
That's crazy story number 2.
The third strange occurrence this week was at a party celebrating the release of my friend and former next-door-neighbor (in Indiana), Danny Farahan (ben David, as he now adds), from the Israeli Army. Having done 2.5 years of service in the IDF, he is now planning on doing some traveling, including hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Either way, as we met up at Mike's Place in Tel Aviv, I was sitting talking to his former roommates from Hebrew University, when they asked me what I was doing in Israel. "Oh, I'm studying medicine at the Technion." "Really? Hey, Ben, don't we know someone who is studying medicine at the Technion?" "Hey---isn't Sherman there?"
"Do you mean Michael Sherman?" I asked. "YEAH! Hey---do you know Sherman?" "Yes, I know Sherman. He's my roommate. How do you guys know him?" "No F**King way! Michael Sherman was OUR roommate at Hebrew University four years ago.....Hey Danny, guess who Michael here is living with?" "Who?" "Michael Sherman!"
So it ends up that Michael Sherman has lived with both me and Danny Farahan, and never made the connection. When I asked him about it, he looked confused and said, "Wait---Danny Farahan is from Indiana?"
So, yeah, this week has been pretty crazy. There's also been some studying of medicine in there as well. Classes are actually going pretty well so far. I'm taking Physiology, Histology, Endocrinology, Anatomy II, Biochemistry II, First Aid, Genetics, and Hebrew this term. It's going to be a tough semester, but I am enjoying the classes. Also, last night I attended Shmuel (Sam) Korb's second (and hopefully final) Tekes (or graduation) from his Officer's Course on the Navy Base. (Picture of me, Shmuel, and two of the Gershons, after the Tekes):
Unfortunately, this week has ended with the terrorist attack on the Merkaz HaRav Kook Yeshiva in Jerusalem---G-d should console all of the families of those who lost sons, grandsons, and brothers under the gates of Zion and Jerusalem. My angry response below was (clearly) a bit emotional, but I stand by it. My only correction to it is the claim that horrible events like these bring the Jewish people closer together. Unfortunately, I feel that an event such as this one---targeting the sector of the population that already feels that too much security has been compromised in the name of a delusional peace process---will only lead to further harmed relations between the various sectors of the Israeli Jewish population.
I also realize that I haven't really written since my trip to the States. I want to thank everyone who came to my parties (in Indianapolis and NYC). It was great to see everyone, and I hope to be back soon to visit.
I need to go get ready for Shabbat. I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom.
Michael
Questions 7/3/08
I can imagine that everyone has heard of the catastrophe that occurred at Merkaz Harav Kook Yeshiva in Jerusalem last night. 8 Yeshiva students, ranging in ages from 15 to 26 were killed in cold blood by a terrorist of unknown origin, though they now suspect that he was from East Jerusalem, and probably carried an Israeli ID card, identifying him as a citizen of Israel.
In the face of such ruthless and inhumane violence, what can really be said? The initial response is one of revenge: the desire for those who planned and carried out this attack to be murdered. Maybe even some signs of strength---ruthless violence of our own---to show the Arabs that we are much, much better at killing them then they are at killing us. After all---goes the much repeated mantra---these "animals only respond to violence." I put that in quotes because I am quoting an article in an interview in the New York Times with residents of Gaza---who said the same thing about Israelis.
Now, the next day, what will be the government's response? After all, this is the first major terrorist attack in Jerusalem in over two years: the Shin-Bet (the Israeli Agency in Charge of Policing the West Bank and Gaza) has managed to foil hundreds of attacks like these, that we fortunately do not hear about. Israeli jails are full of thousands of Palestinians and Israeli Arabs who have been arrested while in the planning states of carrying out an attack to kill innocent Jewish civilians. Why does it take the death of 8 fellow Jews to hear the calls for revenge? Do we need to wait until the rest of the world is sated by sight of spilled Jewish blood---(are 8 boys enough?) to get the green light to do what we've been waiting to do anyway? Maybe, when Israel has a particularly gruesome task at hand, it should stage a terrorist attack, complete with fake Jewish blood, ambulances, and those Haredim who wander the scene, looking for the body parts of those who have died, so that they can be buried with as much as their physical parts as possible? Who cares if the Palestinians in Gaza will celebrate the fake death of a hand full of non-existent Jews? It's them who will be awoken by the sounds of jets and bombs at night, and their cheers of joy at the death of Jewish children will be turned to the sounds of mourning at the death of their own innocent children.
And why do they make us do this? Why can't they leave us alone? Why do they make us relive the nightmares of our past---the pogroms of Russia, Poland, Germany, England? Wasn't the creation of the State of Israel supposed to end all of that? What has changed, besides our ability to turn around and kill them?
Have we, the Jewish people, done something terrible to deserve this? Or maybe we're looking at this the wrong way---that the ongoing death and destruction we have going on with our Arab neighbors is actually a gift, since it is the only thing that is able to bring all Jewish Israelis together, and that Israel would fall apart at the seams if it weren't for the glue made from the common hatred of those who seek the country's destruction. Does it make me a terrible person to consider the good that comes from Jewish death? Or---the opposite---does it make us a terrible people that the only thing that brings us together is the wholesale slaughter of our brethren? Why can't we be united around a desire to create a beautiful, just society here in Israel? Or creating beautiful, open, engaging Jewish communities in the Diaspora? Or maybe it's the human race that is terrible---that they only stop their insane, illogical anti-semetic rhetoric for brief periods when others actually carry out the violence that was planted in their heads by that very same rhetoric, and they only shut up about us running the world and all that other bullshit when it becomes undeniably clear that not only do we not run the world, but we are so pathetically dependent on their poor excuse for society that our lives are held in the balance at the whims of women strapped with suicide belts, children bearing guns, Cossacks with knives, Germans with gas chambers?
Why do we care what they think? We have our own set of morals---we know we can kill those who seek to kill us (does it matter that the reason they want to kill us is because they think we killed them first? Or because we took their grandpa's olive grove?) Why do we care when some UK Human Rights group says we are Nazis and we are creating a second holocaust in Gaza and all sorts of nonsense? Why do we put their insane reports on the front page of our newspapers?
Why won't they leave us alone? Why can't we get along? Why can't we get along with ourselves?
In the face of such ruthless and inhumane violence, what can really be said? The initial response is one of revenge: the desire for those who planned and carried out this attack to be murdered. Maybe even some signs of strength---ruthless violence of our own---to show the Arabs that we are much, much better at killing them then they are at killing us. After all---goes the much repeated mantra---these "animals only respond to violence." I put that in quotes because I am quoting an article in an interview in the New York Times with residents of Gaza---who said the same thing about Israelis.
Now, the next day, what will be the government's response? After all, this is the first major terrorist attack in Jerusalem in over two years: the Shin-Bet (the Israeli Agency in Charge of Policing the West Bank and Gaza) has managed to foil hundreds of attacks like these, that we fortunately do not hear about. Israeli jails are full of thousands of Palestinians and Israeli Arabs who have been arrested while in the planning states of carrying out an attack to kill innocent Jewish civilians. Why does it take the death of 8 fellow Jews to hear the calls for revenge? Do we need to wait until the rest of the world is sated by sight of spilled Jewish blood---(are 8 boys enough?) to get the green light to do what we've been waiting to do anyway? Maybe, when Israel has a particularly gruesome task at hand, it should stage a terrorist attack, complete with fake Jewish blood, ambulances, and those Haredim who wander the scene, looking for the body parts of those who have died, so that they can be buried with as much as their physical parts as possible? Who cares if the Palestinians in Gaza will celebrate the fake death of a hand full of non-existent Jews? It's them who will be awoken by the sounds of jets and bombs at night, and their cheers of joy at the death of Jewish children will be turned to the sounds of mourning at the death of their own innocent children.
And why do they make us do this? Why can't they leave us alone? Why do they make us relive the nightmares of our past---the pogroms of Russia, Poland, Germany, England? Wasn't the creation of the State of Israel supposed to end all of that? What has changed, besides our ability to turn around and kill them?
Have we, the Jewish people, done something terrible to deserve this? Or maybe we're looking at this the wrong way---that the ongoing death and destruction we have going on with our Arab neighbors is actually a gift, since it is the only thing that is able to bring all Jewish Israelis together, and that Israel would fall apart at the seams if it weren't for the glue made from the common hatred of those who seek the country's destruction. Does it make me a terrible person to consider the good that comes from Jewish death? Or---the opposite---does it make us a terrible people that the only thing that brings us together is the wholesale slaughter of our brethren? Why can't we be united around a desire to create a beautiful, just society here in Israel? Or creating beautiful, open, engaging Jewish communities in the Diaspora? Or maybe it's the human race that is terrible---that they only stop their insane, illogical anti-semetic rhetoric for brief periods when others actually carry out the violence that was planted in their heads by that very same rhetoric, and they only shut up about us running the world and all that other bullshit when it becomes undeniably clear that not only do we not run the world, but we are so pathetically dependent on their poor excuse for society that our lives are held in the balance at the whims of women strapped with suicide belts, children bearing guns, Cossacks with knives, Germans with gas chambers?
Why do we care what they think? We have our own set of morals---we know we can kill those who seek to kill us (does it matter that the reason they want to kill us is because they think we killed them first? Or because we took their grandpa's olive grove?) Why do we care when some UK Human Rights group says we are Nazis and we are creating a second holocaust in Gaza and all sorts of nonsense? Why do we put their insane reports on the front page of our newspapers?
Why won't they leave us alone? Why can't we get along? Why can't we get along with ourselves?
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