This morning I – there being nothing else on television (which has literally gone down the tubes around here) – was watching some show about babies and the fact that they recognize individual primate faces until the age of six months, when all primates except humans look alike to them. The explanation about brain synapses needed for human identification didn’t work for me. I was thinking that maybe people only recognize others as individuals when their behavior is as as an individual. Maybe that’s why Hamas made such fun of Gilad Shalit’s heart-wrenching desire to return to his parents. They cannot recognize him in any way as an individual, but as part of the system they believe is the cause of their problems. Recognizing individuals is something you learn in your society. I was thinking – free associating – really, that if women on the street have their faces covered, there is no way to identify their individuality. They cannot be recognized as people.
Phyllis said something interesting today that fits in – that in the U.S. a woman has to buy clothes that do not seem different, but fit in with the model. Nevertheless the clothes, she said, should have some distinguishing feature for which a person gets compliments, which she shrugs off immediately as insignificant. This conversation took place in Comme-il-faut, while we were having lunch and then looking around at the clothes. And the business of individuality came up with the food as well. Whenever we go to Pappa’s with guests from the States, they always asks for alternatives to the menu. “Can I have the Pizza without sausage but with peppers and onions?” or “What if I order the pasta from the first item, but with the sauce from the third?” They’re pretty accomodating there, and of course I go to Pappa’s alot, so I have gotten used to it. But recently we’ve had a lot of experiences where the waiter goes back and asks the kitchen and then comes back again with a refusal. At Rocca’s, for example, the argument went as far as the manager. My friend wanted a hard boiled egg and was refused and the manager sat down at our table and explained that it would be impossible. Later Oren explained to me that the problem in changing items and combinations on the menu is one of inventory and cost-accounting as well as efficiency in the kitchen. But at Comme-il-faut, the waiter, Edan, managed to find a way to get us what we want, and continued to smile.
IF YOU LIVE IN ISRAEL, TOMORROW, AT 10:00 P.M., TURN OFF YOUR LIGHTS FOR 10 MINUTES FOR GILAD SHALIT. IF HE HAS TO SIT IN THE DARKNESS, SO WILL WE.
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