A Year Today...

...not that anyone's counting.

Generally, I don't do politics here, for all sorts of reasons. For one thing, I can't vote - or rather, I can only vote in municipal elections. For another, comment is cheap (or free, as my friends at the Guardian remind me); I think there are enough armchair pundits around in the blogosphere as it is without me adding my blast of hot air. And finally, if I felt strongly enough about something, I would be best advised to actually try and do something about it, rather than ramble about it here.

That said, it's impossible to ignore what's going on in the south at the moment. So, cheerfully ignoring everything above, a couple of thoughts.

1 - Deputy Defense Minister Vilna'i cannot be so naive as to dare suggest that he chose his words badly, or that he was misquoted, or any of the other usual politician get-out clauses, following his radio interview on Friday. Under the circumstances, he can hardly blame the international media for pouncing upon his words. Sometimes, I think de Gaulle was right - Politics are too important to be left to the politicians.

2 - If martyrdom is such a desirable goal, why on earth doesn't Khaled Mashal, for example sacrifice himself? I am not being facetious - it's odd that it's always the ordinary Joes who are sent to blow themselves up or, as is allegedly the case at the moment, compelled to lend their backyards to mobile Qassam rocket units, inviting the inevitable, cataclysmic retaliation from the boys in blue. There isn't any other way to look at it - the man on the street, as far as Hamas is concerned, is just a pawn. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the last 60 years, the perpetual losers are the ordinary men and women on the street.

3 - Going one step further, it really irks me to see talkbackers cheerfully volunteering the services of the Joe Bloggs from Qalqilya in furtherance of the armed resistance. I have no views on the activities of Hamas, Al Aqsa Brigade and so on - none that I am going to share here anyway - but I get very uncomfortable when my left wing friends cheer on the struggle from the safety of their comfortable homes, many miles away from the dangers and privations of, say, Beit Hanoun. I would call this incitement, and cowardly incitement at that - what do you think?

4 - Mahmoud Abbas has broken off 'peace' talks with the Israelis - not that he had much of a choice. But, given that he had been enthusiatically pursuing Hamas supporters in the West Bank over the last six months, with the aid of US and Israeli militatry and tactical support, he may soon be in danger of eating his own tail soon.

5 - 70 dead in Gaza, at least one half civilian. I don't see how anyone, under any circumstances, can justify this. That said, the UN and the EU are as usual waffling on about the 'disproportionate' response of the IDF. This begs the question: what, given the circumstances, constitutes a 'proportionate' response? And I'm not picking sides here - I'm really curious about the answer. In this case, one would have thought that the UN (or, heaven forbid, the EU) would be in a position to offer some guidance. We may be waiting some time...

Oh, who knows...

NO answers on a postcard, please

The Sixth Day

When I was a child, I used to feel sorry for Israeli kids because they had to go to school six days a week. It seemed, to my childish eyes, like cruel and unusual punishment.

Now that I have a child - a small, noisy child running on Duracells that never run flat - I think it is the most civilised idea on God's earth, the inspired idea that keeps fathers from throttling their children when they wake up at quarter after five in the morning and insist on playing, and so on.

Still not convinced about Army service, though - but I'll reserve judgement until the small noisy one becomes a big noisy one.

Shabat Shalom

Elevated Political Discourse and Earthquakes

Israel is the only functioning democracy in the Middle East, or so we're told over and over again. Anyone would think that democracy is actually a good thing.

But then then Mr Shlomo Benziri, Member of Knesset goes and spoils it with this

It's not as if I'm a big fan of democracy per se - any system that allows me to have a say in who runs the affairs of state must be flawed - but even so, stuff like this does make one cringe just a little.

It's not even as if he is speaking on behalf of Orthodox Jewry in general - I had an interesting conversation with a Chabbadnik this afternoon at my doorstep, when he came soliciting funds for some do-gooder scheme, and his considered opinion was that he didn't particularly agree with homosexuality either, but each to their own and when the Messiah comes, he can sort it all out.

Of course, Shas - the Political party Mr Benziri represents - have form with this nonsense. After Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans the year before last, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, the party's spiritual guide suggested that, with all the Blacks in America running around doing naughty things, it's no surprise that such devastation was wrought upon them.

Charming.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Of course, there is the small question of why a political party should have a spiritual guide in the first place. I thought that only happened in...no, let's not even go down that path.

The earthquake, as it happens, was rather surreal. I was in my mother in law's apartment, pretending to work and desperately searching for a diversion when suddenly, quite literally, the earth moved beneath my feet.

Her apartment is on the fourth floor and I figured that there was no point in trying to run down the stairs anyway since (1) I wouldn't make it all the way down, anyway and (2) all the boring stuff about women and children first meant that I'd never make it past the door (aside from my better half and the small noisy child, there was also my sister in law, her small (less) noisy child and my mother in law. So instead, I started a game of Solitaire.


When the interim Winograd report (no English language links, I'm afraid, but there's a bit about it on Wikipedia here) concerning the grand fuck up that was the second Lebanon War (and it was, no matter how you choose to look at it; all wars, ultimately, are fuck ups), the promise was that when the grand old men (and lady) finally pulled their collective thumb out and finished deliberating, there would be a political earthquake. Amir Peretz, the hapless Defense minister resigned, as did Dan Halutz, the Chief of Staff who took time out after declaring war to liqudate his stock portfolio (so 21st Century).

The prospects looked so grim for Tricky Udi that Ehud Barak, at the time trying to convince his party members to make him their leader (again) promised that he would lead the Labour Party out of the coalition as and when Winograd landed it's killer punch.

And then...nothing. No earthquake. No fireworks. Just a very damp squib, really. The 600 odd pages roughly translate to 'it's no-ones fault. Except Amir, and he's gone anyway.'

I must say I was disappointed. Elections in Israel resemble nothing so much as all-in, no holds barred wrestling with no time restrictions - the fight goes on until only the last man's standing. I've observed a couple of elections from abroad, and actually look forward to the day when I will enjoy the spectacle, as they say, up close and personal. But, of course, Mr Barak failed to oblige, and the Olmert government totters along.

My friend Na'ama actually took the time to read the final report - she said something about her civic duty as a citizen, I forget what exactly, and my eyes started to glaze over - and she likened the government to the Fools of Chelm. One person would speak about one thing, a second about something totally different, they would reach a compromise that had no connection to either of the original issues and they would walk away, patting themselves on the back.

Anyway, no resignations, no elections and nothing to look forward to on the political front at the moment.


Back on planet Earth...

Still raining. Still sniffling. Not as bad as it was before, but even so...

Been here almost a year. Time flies, no?

Diamonds are for ever...

So, I'm in Ramat Gan this morning, looking for the Jordanian Embassy (more on that later), and this neat looking chap in a Tommy Hilfiger V-neck sweater and slacks sidles up to me.

'Where are you from?' he asks.

'England.' Yes, I know, not strictly speaking true - but I did have my English pasport in my pocket at the time...subliminal association, I suppose.

'So you must like football then. Which team do you follow?' Actually, this presumption is made about Nigerians all the time too, so nothing new there. So we start talking about Avraham Grant and Ben Sahar, and I'm waiting for the strangeness to happen. It always does - people do not come to talk to me on the street apropos of nothing...

'England is a nice place. One of us' - he jerks his head behind him, towards the diamond exchange - 'just moved there.'

It took me a minute to realise that he was talking about him. And there I was, thinking that he was talking about one of his mates.

Anyway, the conversation circles around for another minute or two, and I tell him that I have family in Nigeria. He brightens immediately. 'You have diamonds in Nigeria?'

I shake my head sadly. No diamonds. A bit of Gold. A lot of Oil, but that's been more trouble than it's been worth, frankly...

He puts his hand around my shoulders paternally, and begins to confide in me. Times are bad in the Diamond industry in Israel. India is undercutting the industrial diamond market. The South Africans are keeping everything in house. 'Guys are desperate for connections...'

I tell him, regretfully, that I have no connections in this area. Or in any other, frankly, but that's neither here nor there.

He shakes his head, and tells me not to worry. 'Keep your eyes open. You know people there' - gesticulating with his head, I suppose, in the general direction of Africa Central. 'There are people here who would pay you if you help them make connections anywhere in Africa.'

We exchange numbers and I bid him farewell. Things MUST be bad if he thinks I can set him up with his next hit. I mean, the only thing I know about diamonds is this

I'm guessing that this is not the shit he needs to hear from me. Never mind.

The Jordanian Embassy is refreshingly old school. The receptionist was smoking - I didn't think that one was allowed to do that stuff indoors anymore - and took my phone away from me before I was allowed to enter. I was a bit puzzled at first, but when he asked me if I had a camera, I figured out that it was a Security thing.

There were about thirty coupled portraits of the Kings Hussain and Abdullah. The decor was very 1970s Soviet waiting room - serge carpets and office chairs in abundance. The desk had a glass pane with holes cut out to speak and exchange documents. On the other hand, I got the visa in half an hour, so I shouldn't complain, should I?

So, I'm off for a trek in the Jordanian Desert at the end of the month. I don't do the great outdoors very well, though...wonder how I can wriggle out of it?

Lies, damned lies...

The better half (as we speak, sitting in a corner, feeling sorry for herself) lured me here under false pretenses. Wall to Wall sunshine, she told me. Shorts and T-Shirts all through the year. Sitting on the beach in December, sipping refreshing amber nectar.

Dear reader, she lied.

I am, as I write, wearing socks, a T-shirt, jeans, a shirt, a pullover and a hoodie. I am too afraid to go to the bathroom because the heating doesn't get there. The sun IS shining, true, but it's an illusion - you step out and the arctic chill hits you immediately.

It's a statistical anomaly, she tells me. It's never this cold in January. Yeah, right, whatever. I'm packing the suitcase and heading back to London. At least, there you know what to expect...

Actually, it's not that bad, although we were up in the North last weekend and had to contend with sub-zero nighttime temperatures and snow on Mount Hermon (actually, that was kinda fun...)

Hopefully, the cold snap will soon pass. In the meantime, I'm going to curl up under the duvet (noisy small child allowing, of course) to read this

ta-ta for now

Sinusitis...

Is, apparently, a particularly cruel thing to wish upon anyone. As I discovered.

I actually had big plans for the New Year - sorting out Hebrew classes, working out a writing timetable for the next few months, hunting for gainful employment - but instead, I have been flat on my back, breathing through my mouth, trying hard not to suffocate in my sleep and cursing all and sundry.

Eventually, I went to see a doctor. I am not yet eligible for Bituach Leumi - 180 days after getting my resident's visa, and that does not include any days spent out of the country during the intervening period - but fortunately, the better half had the presence of mind to force me to take out health insuarance. 

So I telephone the health insurance company (Harel, since you ask, and I recommend them to anyone), and half an hour later I have an appointment set up for later that morning.

Just like that!

The GP looks into various orifices (poor man), decides that I have suffered enough and prescribes antibiotics. He sends me off to a pharmacy round the corner that would honour my insurance, and wishes me well. And the receptionist smiles at me on the way out too.

Needless to say, I am a little stunned. I have lived in two countries (Nigeria and England) where public health care is, at best, variable, and to be treated swiftly, efficiently and with a smile is a bit of a shock.

And the drugs seem to be working too.

Suddenly, I am all in favour of health insurance..

I think I like the system here.
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A Christmas laugh

(Courtesy of the better half)

As an El-Al plane lands at Ben Gurion Airport in Israel, the voice of the Captain comes over the PA system:

"Please remain seated with your seat belts fastened until this plane is at a complete standstill and the seat belt signs have been turned off. We also wish to remind you that using cell phone on board the aircraft is strictly prohibited."

"For those who are seated, we wish you a Merry Christmas and hope that you enjoy your stay...and to those of you standing in the aisle and talking on their cell phones, we wish you a Happy Chanukah, and welcome back home."

(Of course, the pilot hasn't met Christian Nigerians yet!)

I never thought I would say this, but I missed Christmas. Kind of.