It is pretty difficult to believe – especially for me – that i haven’t seen Ajami yet. I’ve been meaning to see it for months, not only because it’s supposed to be great, but also for the language – the sound of Palestinian Arabic. It’s different from Egyptian, Lebanese or Jordanian Arabic, and I understand it better. Even though Mr. Copti, the director, feels he isn’t representing Israel at the Oscars, he’s got Israel in his vision, his words, his pain. He’s also got a couple million bucks from the Israeli government in his movie. I must admit I feel more of a kinship toward Palestinian Arabs then, say, the Lithuanians my ancestors lived with for generations. The interweave is complex, unique, and profound.
Shusha had her first shearing of this year – this is concommitant to saying i think the heavy winter is over. It might get cold again, but not really cold. The birds are saying the same thing. The chirping all day was constant. Only now, that the sun is going down, and where each one will spend the night is all settled, is it becoming silent. The stories of the birds are much more audible during the quiet sabbath, and their joy is palpable.
When Abraham died his two sons buried him in the Cave of the Patriarchs. Shouldn’t they both fix it up together now?
I didn’t know about the puppet center in Holon. I didn’t know there was a museum, a school, international festivals, performances. I didn’t know it was the only one in the world. A pretty wonderful place – with some pretty wonderful people in it
An extended family gathering – I learn that many of my relatives of the next generation have been exploring their family roots. My niece, who is related to me only by marriage, goes back easily a few generations on her mother’s side, and on her Italian father’s side can trace relatives back to the sixteenth century. A similarly related nephew has found records and records of his relatives in Poland. I am jealous for a moment, thinking of the whole in my family’s history created by the Holocaust, but then stop. The greatest hole is Amos, my other nephew’s loss – less than two years ago – and it is palpable in his children’s eyes, in his widow’s determination, in his mother’s eternal sadness. The lack I feel of a family history is a theoretical one, the lack of Amos is real.
Salman Masalcha, an amazing writer, woke me up this morning with his piece in Haaretz “Israel’s Apartheid doesn’t stop at the West Bank” because he begins by recalling the ideals of democracy in Israel’s Declaration of Independence, and noting how far Israel has fallen from the ideals of democracy. I admire Salman Masalcha, but I must add that there was a reason Israel could not fulfill it’s ideals of democracy in 1948. The Arabs declared war on the State of Israel. This declaration has never officially been rescinded (except for Egypt and Jordan) and never negotiated. Although it is true that there are innumerable difficulties and cultural divides, the basis for the discrimation of Israel is mistrust that is not entirely baseless.
On the other hand, I have mentioned again and again, I think – and with great pleasure – the increasing numbers of Arabs in managerial positions and other positions of importance and responsibility in my neighborhood. A frequently played radio commercial that begins with a dialogue between an employer and a prospective employee has the interviewee answering the question of his background with “I’m Arab. Is that a problem for you?” to which the employer responds, “Heaven Forbid.” But, as the announcer soon tells us, he doesn’t get the job. We are reminded that it is illegal to discriminate. The fact of the commercial itself indicates that there is a problem, and that we’re dealing with it. So, with great respect, I totally disagree with the word Apartheid attached to Israel.
Since Purim and International Women’s Week coincide in Israel this year, a stranger-than-usual thought came into my mind. There are basically three kinds of women’s dress, varieties of religious Jewish, varieties of Hijab, and degrees of kuneifa. (That always makes it difficult for other people to find clothing in Israel. ) For International Women’s Day why don’t we trade off? Or maybe we should wear all of the costumes of women around here. I have a gorgeous black silk gown with Hebron embroidery I haven’t touched for years because of the political implications, and a wonderful long black skirt I can wear with thick stockings or a long jeans skirt with an upside-down chamber pot hat from the past. And I have net tights and a mini. I could switch off – just to show how all women could-should-must unite. I know it’s an old feminist concept but if women took over the world it might well be a better place. We wouldn’t waste our time developing weapons of mass destruction, for example, or slaughtering whole villages of people. What make us give up that idea anyhow? I don’t mean an occasional female prime minister, because women always adapt to men when they are in the minority, but a world of women-leaders.
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Apartheid week on campuses? A quarter of my students are Arab – I know that because i learn as many names as i can in the first week and the Russian ones are harder.
March comes in like a lion – i had to wear a jacket today, but by the end of the month my jackets will probably be put in winter storage.
