Winds of war - a different perspective.

It has been a while since I wrote and I hate for this to be the impetus for me to write again, but it is. Just a few remarks on what's going on - obviously things I think.

It is very different to be here and experience these situations then to do it from abroad. Here, you see one side and barely the other. Abroad, you see both, obviously you see one more - which ever one comes across more 'rate-able' on the tv screen. Seeing things from outside though does give you a different perspective, as silly as that sentence is.

Both sides are to blame here. While that's almost always true, it does seem lost on people. I want to mention though that over 8000 rockets have been shot over at Israel since it pulled out of the Gaza strip 6 years ago. Over 8000. And yes Israel has put the Gaza strip under blockade since Hamas came into power. And is facing elections.
 I am not getting into politics beyond those sentences.

The sound of the siren takes me back to post 9/11 when every time I heard a plane I automatically looked up to the sky in fright. Now motorcycles speeding sound a bit like the siren... Memories of '91 (The Gulf war, numero uno).

They opened the bomb shelters here. The one closest to my house is very close and very roomy, almost friendly in its spacious-ness and white-wall-ness. It is also right under a kindergarten and the Northern TLV police station. Whatever that may mean...

My parents arrived just in time, I might add. They came in Wednesday. On the way to picking them up from the airport I heard on the news that the Hamas military leader was killed. Welcome to Israel eema abba!

And with all of this, Israelies deal with the situation with humor, very dark humor. Here are a few of the funnies from FB, with context explained...

 So there were two rockets shot over to Tel Aviv and then one to Jerusalem. As far as the cities are concerned, Tel Aviv is clearly the cool and fashionable one. So after a rocket was shot to Jerusalem, someone wrote in FB - the fastest move in history of a trend from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.

Much criticism has been dished out to citizens of Tel Aviv, that they don't understand what its like to live under fire (true) and that while many parts of Israel are in the line of fire, they just go out to coffee shops and parties. After the first siren went out here someone wrote on FB, shit, I spilled my espresso. And of course the photo below...

Let's hope for a quick and peaceful end to this, there are children in both sides and they should be able to grow up peacefully, play and dream.

1000 paper cranes

3 am on the avenue. The street is completely empty. I am digging a hole in the hard ground.
A little bit earlier, knock knock at my neighbors door. ‘Do you have a shovel?’
A strange look greets me. I smile and say, ‘I need to bury a bottle.’
‘You never fail to surprise me,’ he responds.
***
A Japanese legend tells that if one was to fold a thousand paper cranes, then one would be granted one wish. The story has roots in Japanese lore, where the cranes were believed to bring luck and a thousand were given to couples on their wedding night. The story gained fame for a less celebratory tale, one involving a Japanese girl named Sadako Sasaki who was a resident of Hiroshima when the bomb dropped. A few years later she got sick with leukemia and attempted to fold a thousand cranes, wishing to be healthy again. She didn’t make it and her friends completed the 1000 origami cranes for her.
The story became a symbol of innocent victims of war and eventually of peace. On the anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing, people fold a 1000 paper cranes and make a wish.

***
When the social protests began in Israel, I joined one of the main tent areas and slept there for a few weeks. Since the protests dealt with the quest for social justice and people’s wish for a better place to live, plus we were all sleeping in the avenue with trees near by, I thought it would be nice to start folding origami cranes, maybe even get to a thousand, but if not at least do something communal and decorative.
I thought that if I could get enough people interested, we would complete a 1000 quickly. I arranged a day with the guy who organized the activities, got some paper donated to me from a printing shop and cut it all into squares. I was excited.
The day before the planned origami activity, there was a terrorist attack in southern Israel. 8 people died. It was horrible. And when the time for the origami activity came about, instead there was an emergency meeting of the tent village – how do we deal with the attack. I was told that I can go ahead and do the origami with the kids that were around, or move the activity to a different day. I chose to do it with 7 kids, mostly folding the cranes for them. I explained the story, the legend, the purpose, as the kids struggled with Japanese art.
We eventually completed 7 cranes, 993 away from the wish. Except, not quite. Two of the kids took the cranes home to decorate their rooms.



***
A few weeks later, Dafni Leef, the main lady who started the protests, came over to our tent village for a Friday night dinner. I knew that this was my chance and I quickly came with my bag of now 50 cranes and told the story and tried to teach her. She didn’t complete her crane. But, a few other people did and two lovely ladies liked the idea and joined the folding.
One of them, N’, even came up with a way of folding a few cranes at once and would return from her very respectable job, with bags of folded cranes. She even taught officers that were watching us how to fold.
We were on our way.

***
On September 23rd, a Friday, we reached a 1000. We hung them all on fishing wire from the trees in the avenue.

All along the folding process people would ask what the wish was and I responded that in time I would tell them. Jokingly, I became known as the wish-dictator, or the crane-tycoon. That Friday eve, we did a community dinner. I requested to tell the story of the 1000 cranes. I then read a poem about fall and planting seeds. (It was a metaphor, no really ☺ ). I told everyone that I would talk about the wish after the Friday night blessing. We did the kiddush and poured the wine. As the empty wine bottle stood there, I said that we are building something here together and that we completed a 1000 cranes as a community. I said that since the project was communal, the wish should be as well. I asked each person to take a piece of paper and to write a wish and place it in the bottle.
Papers were taken, pens were held to them as kids and adults wrote down words from their hearts. The bottle eventually was completely filled with small pieces of paper and stood there, awaiting.




***
Today is the first day of Spring, a time when seeds germinate, flowers grow and a new cycle begins. Today I will plant a bottle in the avenue.
And wait for it to grow.

Occupy Wallstreet/Beit Ze Ohel - Same Revolution?

The revolutions that have spontaneously burst across the Arab world caught almost everyone by surprise. No one saw them coming, no one realized the people were hurting. Some how in those dictatorships, no one thought that the citizens that have been disenfranchised for decades upon decades, might actually wake-up, stand-up and fight for their rights.

"Rotschild corner Tahrir"

Then, a few months later, a similar awakening happened here in Israel. The fight here wasn't against a dictatorship nor against a complete disenfranchisement but rather about the fact that the ordinary citizen felt powerless. That the government only listened to a handful of citizens with really deep pockets, or really strong political cards, and didn't care, help or fight for the rights of the rest of the citizens. Even the opposite as the lives of the ordinary became harder and harder.
When the protests began in Rotschild street, everyone wondered - who is that group of young adults? They seem to lack an actual leadership, speak in too many voices and lack an agenda - what do they want? What are they saying?
The protesters were met with cynicism and skepticism. Oh no worries, its just a group of hippies and this episode will pass like a breeze on a summer day. Then suddenly, the tide switched. People realized the fight was about the rights of the ordinary citizen, you, me, to receive equal treatment from the government just like the citizens who yield deeper pockets, whose last names are more famous, who happen to live, metaphorically or not, next to those who are close to the political plate.
The government tried to stall. Tried to divide and conquer the protesters. They said it wouldn't last. It did.
Then they took down our symbols - the tents. While you can take down a tent, you can't stop an awakening. You can't stop knowledge. Once people know that they are being disenfranchised and they want to do something about it - they'll fight. Fight for their rights.



We are awake here in Israel - don't hit the snooze button in the U.S..

Demonstration and Aftermath

Amidst cries that the demonstration has lost stream, that the voices calling for change are divided and unfocused, two Saturdays ago, over 400,000 people came out to the streets and yelled in unison. Tel Aviv’s only round square was filled as the appropriately named kikar hamedina (the country’s piazza) could have been placed in any given European city.



The energy at the demonstration and immediately following it was incredible. It felt like a change was happening; people cared, came out, yelled for change and even more importantly committed to bringing that change about. A sentiment of true empowerment and the volition to bring about a better future.
The next day, I suffered from major big-demonstration-withdrawal. In my head, question marks hovered, what have we accomplished so far? Can we continue doing this? Can we unify all the different voices pulling in different directions? It was a difficult day for me.
My tent village had voted twice to minimize our area, to leave only a few symbolic tents and move beyond the symbols into the actual work that lay ahead. We even cleaned, swept and polished the avenue where we slept in preparations. But as the moment of truth came, people didn’t want to fold - their tents. Suddenly, solidarity with those who had no choice but to sleep in a tent became a burning issue. This gained steam the next day as reports of forced evacuations and such plans surfaced. The city of Tel Aviv though, offered us flowers. City officials came by and placed a red rose on each tent along with a cute note saying that the city supports the protests but still would like to get the streets ‘clean’ by Rosh Hashana – Jewish new year at the end of the month. The city committed to continuing a dialogue with the tents and to notify the tents inhabitants if any ‘cleaning’ would happen. Satisfied with the city’s support, I, like many of my fellow tent dwellers, went to sleep at home that evening.



At 5:30 am the next morning, trucks arrived at various tent areas and picked up tents that were ‘uninhabited’ and in general ‘trash’.
Lies lies lies.
The foreign workers that were doing the dirty work, picked up a tent that suddenly became alive as the grandmother that sleeps in the tent village, all 73 years of her, woke up and yelled. She alerted others and suddenly people came out to stop the ‘cleaning’. A bit too late, two trucks had already left with ‘trash’ - tents, couches, sofas, and other belongings to the big trash area of Tel Aviv county. The third truck, we were able to stop and re-place many of the tents. Still, much damage had been made. Of the over 150 tents, only 32 remained. Luckily for me, mine was one of them.
These events led to a protest in front of the city hall, which became violent – much due to the police though (ok, I can say that as a protester and be ‘unbiased’…). Protesters that Saturday yelled in respect to the police, like we yelled at every demonstration, dear police officer, you are worth more (in the sense that the protests were also about their rights for fair wages and chance to live adequately), suddenly were yelling – police state, police state.
The city mayor came out and spoke about why he ‘wiped the streets clean’ from the dirty anarchists, the drug users and homeless inhabitants of the tent villages. None of these things were true of my tent village.
None.
A legal fight began about the right of the city to forcefully remove tents (who are there illegally, true, but for over 30 days at this point which gives them some rights) and for the compensation of people’s belongings. Suddenly, we had 24/7 presence of city inspectors making sure that no new tents were placed in the streets.
The protest was changing directions, and losing some of its previous focus. Many discussions ensued about where are we going and what is our goal, with differing opinions.
Last Saturday, the next stage of the protest began with round table discussions that included many of the community who previously had been less active. The idea is for people to suggest solutions and to eventually enact them. The mayor came to one of these collection of tables, the largest one, upon an invitation. He received a chorus of boos and yells, eventually leaving. We invited him to our tent area, but on condition that he come with no press.
He came, and even apologized. A political, weak and in fact meaningless apology in which he claimed he didn’t know that the events would take place this way and that the timing was wrong. But still, he acknowledged. He said that the city is willing to allow for a community space to remain in which people can meet and talk and do what we have been doing, but he repeated, strongly, his demand that the streets be ‘clean’ by new year’s.



And this is where we stand today, a legal fight that continues (next decision is due tomorrow) and now, a dialogue with the city in search of a compromise. And still, we are here, the fight continues and the focus, a bit lost but still hangs around, to better our lives here, still leads the way.
Social justice is the name.

Tent Politics

It's been nearly six weeks now since a 25 year old girl who got kicked out of her apartment and tired of having to pay ridiculously high rent and repeatedly be abused by greedy homeowners, opened a tent on Tel Aviv's best known street.



6 of her friends joined her initially to form the '7'. Since then, many other tents villages have opened across the country (now over than 90's) and many other groups, from divorced fathers asking for more rights, to the settlers offering the solution to the high prices in the West Bank, have joined giving their angle on what is termed the fight for social justice. Many political conversations were held in the tent village that formed on Rotschild street and in the other tent villages across the country. Even gestures to show agreement or displeasure with a speaker. Since the meetings became large, it was decided to avoid clapping in agreement. Instead, quick semi twists of the hand, as if changing a light bulb in a Bollywood film, became the sign of agreements.



At the beginning of the protests, 3 of the '7' went to the Israeli parliament, the Knesset, to listen to a government discussion of what is happening. They were quite unhappy but as visitors to the Knesset are not allowed to make any kind of noise, they remained silent. Instead, the 3 stood up and held their arms crossed, making a large X. They were kicked out of the Knesset at that point, and that has become the symbol for disapproval with a speaker.



Finally, to show that a speaker is continuing on and on, rumbling and rumbling, one does the 'ata hofer' symbol - you are digging, with arm over arm rotating in a circle, like traveling in basketball...





The '7' continued to lead the protests, deciding many times in small closed forms. As many people have joined the tent villages and even more the protests themselves, there was a strong cry for more representation in the 'deciding board'. The initial system had each tent village send a representative to some meetings to find out what was going on and the country divided into five areas, Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Be'er Sheva, Haifa and the North, and each one of those allowed one representative in the deciding body. A bit of a democracy, except that the power of the '7' was too large in that situation.

This was problematic as this is the definition of a grassroots movement (even though most of us actually sleep on sand...). Almost all decisions are voted on in circles of people who come out, community members, folks in tents, even passerby's who want to make a statement. Everything is discussed, sometimes too much (at which point one does the traveling sign...).



Finally, early last week, the representative from Nordau (my tent village, I am proud to say :) ) suggested a new system, 10 + 3; 10 representatives from the different tent villages, elected in the villages themselves, and 3 representatives from the '7'. A developing democratic system... This will be the protest's leading board and soon, it will be time to negotiate, to decide if the government is doing enough - and maybe even eventually, to stop the protest once enough changed have been made.

Hey, one can always hope...

Life in the tent village(s)

As of today there are 78 tent villages across Israel made of 3383 tents! How official is that count? Not sure, there may actually be more. But considering the swelling heat here (circa 30 degrees at night) and high degree of humidity, its quite impressive. I wake up every night because of the heat and in the morning I can no longer sleep as the tent becomes an oven, albeit a nylon-walled-strangely-shaped oven, but plenty uncomfortable for the inhabitant.


"Rotschild Tahrir corner"

Either way with so many people living in these villages, there is a quite a community life that has burgeoned. In Rotschild, the original spot, every street corner has a camp-center where there are couches, carpets, pillows and people sit. There is also a kitchen where people donate food, make communal meals and naturally, hang out. Bathrooms, electricity and water are provided by local businesses which are supporting the demonstration, or at least standing pat while people come asking for a visit to the toilet.







The police has reported that the residents of the near-by streets do complain about the noise – people hang out till very late, there is music, chatter and just general clamour all over the place. Also trash has accumulated even though there are strong efforts to keep the areas clean and to recycle as much as possible.



My tent village, Noradu street, is now the second largest in Israel with over 150 tents (just for comparison, Rotschild has circa 2000!!!). New tents are popping up all the time. When I first set mine up, I was third from the end. I am now sixth on one side and on the side across from me there are 3 new ones. So people are joining all the time.



Nordau is considered the more family-oriented, academic tent village. It also located in the northern part of TLV which has that stereotype… There are children activities every evening, comprised at times from famous authors coming and reading stories to various others leading activities (I am going to lead an origami making activity with the goal of making a 1000 cranes hoping for the Japanese legend). Later in the evening there are two lectures. We have had famous economists, an Israel-prize winner, a bible-study and just general discussions during these lectures and following them. Our nearest bathroom is a bit far (especially from my tent ☹ ) and is located in the Aroma coffee shop across the street by the village’s kitchen.




Friday evening we have special Shabat welcoming dinners with people from the near by synagogue coming by and leading prayer. And people just sit down and talk about the revolution, explain why they are here, what they think must be done, hang out, sing a little, laugh and most of all, remember that the fight is for actual social changes and, well, hope.

It all started with cottage cheese.

It all started with cottage cheese.

You could even say it all started with a poor vegetable salesman in Tunisia. On a local scale though, it started with cottage. The price of cottage went up, and suddenly people were protesting. All on facebook, nothing out in the streets, but protesting, and in large large numbers. This meant they stopped buying cottage, a meagre protest but still, a protest. Now if you have never had Israeli cottage then maybe you don’t know, but it’s really good and for many was a staple food, a basic product on the table. Either way, people showed some will to organize for social causes, albeit only for cottage and only on facebook, but still.

Then about three weeks ago, a 20 something lady who couldn’t find housing in Tel Avid and was getting frustrated at how difficult it was to live in this country unless you were rich or had rich parents, decided to take a tent and sleep in arguably the best known street in Israel, Tel Aviv’s Rotschild’s Avenue.


Within three days there were over 50 tents there.





A week later, a huge protest over the government’s repeated policy of ignoring the poor and helping the rich ensued. Suddenly people were taking to the streets. Tent-villages popped up like mushrooms after the rain in Jerusalem, Beer Sheva in the south and Kiryat Shmona in the north and in many other cities. The tent village in Rotschild suddenly grew to enormous size, taking over the entire walkway of the avenue (circa a mile long) and many groups joined the cause. Everyone suddenly had something to say. The doctors fighting for public medicine better wages and livable hours, the students asking for lower tuition and more public housing, mothers wanting public education for their toddlers, everyone suddenly had a booth and tents. Every street corner on Rotschild suddenly had some major activity – a lecture discussing a cause, a movie explaining an issue, a musician coming to support.








The government tried to paint the entire protest as a leftwing thing. Now in Israel left and right are mostly identified with the security situation with the left wing willing to give the West Bank for a Palestinian state and the right wing wanting to hold on to it for security or religious reasons.

But this issue dragged people from all over the map. This was evident in the different visitors who came to Rotschild, which became the center of the protest. Further, various groups opened tents – an Arab-Jewish coalition at one part, settler teenagers at another end, orthodox Jews next to supporters of gay rights. Everyone came out, and the most amazing thing was that people talked! And are still talking - about social policy, about better living conditions, about the peace process, about how fricken hot and humid it is! About everything and anything. But mostly about social justice.

The people want social justice became the slogan of the protest. Bumper stickers, signs, posters were seen just about anywhere stating this.
The events culminated in tonight’s huge protest. Estimates are that over 350,000 people showed up to protest. Now just to put that into scale, Israel has circa 7.5 million inhabitants. In the UK, if a similar percentage came out to the streets, that would mean 2.9 million. In the U.S.? 7.2 million people!!! And on top of that, it was ridiculously hot and humid – an Israeli summer.

And people came. From near, from far, with their kids, with their grandparents. Walked in the streets, painted signs, yelled till their voices went coarse. What will happen? A smart (very smart) man once said, man plans and God laughs.





“The people want social justice, the people want social justice!”