Joelle » Tel Aviv

Life in Tel Aviv

Joelle — Wed, 07 Jun 2006 14:09:09 +0000

I must tell you that when I landed at Ben Gurion airport needing some energy while savoring at five o’clock in the morning an Israeli ice cream cone, I asked a handsome Israeli young man at the bureau of money exchange about the weather. The reason why, at dawn — still sleepy and a little jet lagged — I realize I have landed in the land of Israel is by the style of the answer to my question: “The weather? Depends. Where are you coming from?” “I am coming from London” “Oh, from London — the weather in Tel Aviv then is very good!”

(My reflection is what kind of an answer I would have got if I told him I came from Rio or Dubai?) Obviously, Einstein had to be a Jew and the theory of relativity had to be invented in Tel Aviv!

My family invited me to stay in the most modern hotel of TLV, the Intercontinental, in front of the beach. Sometimes, by looking at the shore and the way it is structured, I have a feeling of being in Copacabana, in Rio de Janeiro. The palm trees just look like cousins to the ones here. Tel Aviv is a very young city and everywhere you go reigns an atmosphere of “Joie de vivre” like every city in the world that has the sea. But here it is stronger; the war and the suffering due to terrorism has made it a point to enjoy life at its best, everyday at its fullest. The beach at dawn or sunset and the nightlife are enjoyed to their extreme.

Lucky to be in Tel Aviv, my family and I rejoiced to “Break” the Passover “Fast” at the old city Arabic headquarters called Jaffa where my favorite bakery in the world — Abuelafia & Sons — stands firmly against all odds with their burning wood oven ready for my impatient craving for Zaatar bread.

The night life is as funky as you can imagine. There is a huge need to catch up with 60/70′s rock world icons like Janis Joplin, Roberta Flack, Miles Davis, Minnie Ripperton and Jimmy Hendrix. The bars have a dark side at its extreme, the underground scene is the preferred one, and a cult for death and life cut to the edge is appreciated even if they are not aware of it — basically a pure reflection of the condition of what their day to day has been like in the country they were born since they know themselves as people of Israel.

Saint-Tropez has nothing to envy from the beach lounging in Tel Aviv. We call it in French “l’heure Bleue” — that interval of time between sunset and the falling of the night. It is the blue hour where everything is quiet, romantic chilling out is amazing, while Narguileh’s tobamel “honeyed” tobacco aroma, the cherry and other spices fill the Mediterranean breeze longing for a longer horizon to reach being just in the moment of perfect light and sound.

New York is waiting for me. I must leave to hopefully come back soon.

HaTikvah — the national anthem of Israel — means exactly this word: Hope.

Hope for eternal comeback and peace.

Shalom Tel Aviv, will be back soon.

This post is dedicated to my new friend Ze’ev Lavie, for being so adorable in taking his time to show me around day and night until dawn in the hidden and secret places of his beloved city of Tel Aviv. We found out that we have so much in common that it’s almost ridiculous. Maybe from previous lives.

I wish him all the luck he deserves — and he knows for sure what I am talking about!

Joelle at the Negev

Joelle — Tue, 06 Jun 2006 23:21:52 +0000

Yes, after the Souk I finally need some more, more…

I don’t know more what, maybe some desert. I think. After all it’s Passover and at what other spot on Earth should I be at this time to connect my ancestor Moses for at least the next 40 years of my life? In the desert, of course. I chose to pack, without really talking too much with anyone about where I intend to stay, because you know it’s always a problem giving explanations.

From Tel Aviv train station I arrive at Beersheba where Haim of Negevjeep is waiting in the oldest Range Rover I have seen in Israel. With a nice Shalom (peace; hello) smile in his lips, Haim asks us if we are okay, and tells us if we do not want to miss the sunset dinner in the area of Sheegg, we’d better hurry up.

On the way to the Ramon Crater, Haim explains that he was a former army general and chose to be a desert guide because the desert is his life and humans are boring. If I am interested for my blog, he can show me all the thousands of different birds, wolves and hyenas that pass through the desert night by moonlight.

I kindly thank him for his nice invitation but I explain him that I prefer to check in with tribes and Bedouin lifestyles and those of birds, wolves and hyenas are not specifically the primary point of interest of my blog.

He seems to understand, and when I ask him some information about the life of the desert tribes, like a good Israeli he answers with the following question: “Do you want to know ALL the story or just after Christ?”

Although it is dwarfed both by the Jordanian Desert and the Sinai Desert, the Negev desert is a relatively small area with a great deal to offer particularly to first time desert travelers, steeped in history and home to a host of geological wonders. We are on the way to the ancient Nabatean city ‘Ovdat’ where the cliffs of the Negev plateau are dramatically intercepted by the sandy Arava valley.

Crossing the Negev Desert, he says, are some of the most ancient trade routes in history, including the Spice and Perfume Route. Apparently we are following in the tracks of the intrepid Nabatean merchants who endeavored to cross this haunting and beautiful land, bearing treasures from Arabia and the East to the nobility of Europe. Nice… but I am hungry.

—–

Haim announces his surprise. Dinner at sunset tonight is taking place at the Bedouin’s tent. We are told that we will eat with our hands and “if you want, Yael, you can ask all the questions you want, Zjimeaa is expecting you, and moreover I told them who you are, and they are exited to see you.” Here it is, the Jewish Yael girl staying at a Muslim Bedouin tent for the night. (I wonder about my mother’s opinion there in chic Brussels!)

As soon as we arrive, the patriarch invites us to sit, pouring a very sweet tea into a small transparent glass to welcome us. He explains that normally he should have four wives but at his age it’s a little too much to handle so he kept himself responsible for only one. His wife, by the way, is now in the kitchen with his daughter Yasmina preparing our meal. Suddenly I hear a very bright sound of a sheep BEEP from the Bedouin Ahmad shepherd back next to a tiny generator, and thrilled like a child I jump to have a closer look at the sheep; after all I am just an urban New York-São Paulo-Milan city girl and it’s not everyday that I get to see a sheep inside a Bedouin tent right in the middle of the Negev desert). The sheep mirage is broken by a loud “ALO” coming from the Bedouin’s lips — a small pause — we all realize silent and shocked that the sheep’s sound was nothing more. nothing less than the Bedouin’s Nokia ring tone! We sometimes forget that we are in Israel, the land of high technology and even a Bedouin would get to Tel Aviv not on his camel but in his truck to download his favorite ring tone obviously making sure he keeps his identity intact, right?

Talking about identity, the reason why I picked up this small expedition was, once more, to check really where I was coming from, more clearly about my origins. Oriental and liberated as I could be, I went to the kitchen with the women of the family to help prepare the Pita (Arabic bread) and evening meal called Magluba (or to be honest, at least learn how to make it), while the men where discussing among themselves (I wanted to know where I could find Bedouin artifacts for the e-commerce of my website) the importance of women working at home so that revolution could be avoided and replaced by evolution (the bedouin’s words) in the rules and centennial traditions of the desert tribes, thus preserving the family values and habits.

I then reflect in a pause, while handing the yeast to little Jasmine daughter, what my life could be or could have been if I had to prepare the Pita bread and the meal for my man and children under a Negev sun…

The feeling I certainly got is one of immense peace and protection from the outside world found in this amazing small community preserving its identity in harmony with the land and its government.

Salaam to you Ahmad, the Bedouin and thank you for the opportunity of reminding me deeply inside of my soul who I really am, and confront my devotional needs towards my future master.

Mercan Dede, NAR-I CEM, is my favorite Turkish Sufi music composer of Sufi mp3 available for you to travel with me along this magic of the Negev Desert. http://www.mercandede.com/md/mdplayer/mp3playercenter.html

Allah Maacon (May Allah be with you)

In the Negev there are about 100000 Bedouins. 40% 40000 live in unrecognized villages in tent or hats like the one we visited. With average family size of 8-9, it about 5000 families.

Zman Midbar is a private place with a holistic view of life in the desert…
The Moonlight walk is an unusual experience — walking in Nahal Havarim near Midreshet Ben Gurion. The landscape around is composed of caly rock and Chalk — both very bright. In a full moon the night hike gives you special feeling of being connected with the desert…