Tel Aviv Diary June 11-15, 2008 - Karen Alkalay-Gut
June 11, 2008
Around four in the morning I laid out a few quilts on the Aminach mattress from Sodom and discovered it isn't so bad at all if you can get enough padding between the MFS and your body. But I'll be a monkey's uncle if it's not one of the biggest rip-offs I've ever experienced. Don't buy it!
With a feeling that I have been suckered, I took myself off to an alternative doctor, Raul Rodrigez, whose only limitation so far is that his website is only in Hebrew. This time it wasn't for Ezi, and it was fun to talk about lesser diseases. I'll let you know if his regimen works. In any case I'm confident I'm dealing with the genuine thing and not some fake.
As I was walking out, I heard the secretary giving some new patient directions from Jaljulya to the clinic, and I thought how strange it was that my own referent was a tv celebrity, and a woman sitting in the waiting room looked like a student. So the slice of population his guy treats is quite varied.
We're watching "Good Intentions," a current popular series. It's a soap about a tv cooking program with a Palestinian and an Israeli woman. Message: women can get together when the men can't. It's not a simple program though, because it contains the complexities of our daily lives. Interesting how, like "The Bubble," which focuses on homosexuality in Israel, it is the average person who wants peace.
June 12, 2008
I forgot to post this Ruth poem for Shvuoth. I hope you'll understand.
“Sometimes you just can’t be subtle with these Jewish boys.”
My mother-in-law says,
“Forget the ways of the Diaspora,
The flirty eyes, a glimpse of stocking,
The wise, backward glance.
Jewish men have a thing for shikses
“Dress well, use all the nuit d’amour
You can absorb, and tell them
About your relatives, especially me.
The combination is unbeatable,
And I’m sure it’ll get you into the tribe
eventually, if you have the right kinds of sons..
i might be gone for a day or two.
but when i come back i'll make up for it.
June 13, 2008
What's the difference between a Gentile and a Jew? A Gentile goes without saying goodby and a Jew says goodby without going,
So I'm still here, but almost definitely will be driving up to Nazareth as soon as I get myself organized. On Friday the 13th yet.
June 14, 2008
I am sitting in the lobby of the Villa Galilee, where, to my great surprise, they have internet, and listening to the staff gossiping about the neighbors. We have just returned from a place i know well, Rosh Pina, but for the first time I understood the meaning of the name. "The rock that has been rejected by the builders, has become the cornerstone of the building" says the Psalms 118:22, and so the town is named cornerstone. Pretty cool, spiritually.
At the Villa all is well. It becomes more and more yuppy and luxurious and the new pool is gorgeous. But just now, when I tried to show them that I had written about them last year on the web (perhaps in the hope of a tiny discount), they dismissed my English with a wave of their hand. Despite its provencal atmosphere and American standards, they are really appealing to the Israeli upper middle class.
I had another massage yesterday, this time the hot oil appointment... I insisted on having Hank, the rekkei master, take care of me, in part because i am incredibly moved by his whispered directed meditation. It remains for me reason enough for going to the Villa Galilee.
But what is the Galilee without a visit to Naim Araidi? An hour in Mghrar, ten minutes in his meditation cave, and our day is made. Although the part of Maghrar we visited is mostly the commercial district, it remains magical.
But then we visit Safed, another magical place, and although we could find no where to eat (why did we even think of entering the city before the ending of shabbat?) we enjoyed the wandering.
Ravenous, around five thirty in the afternoon, we were desperate. "Is there anywhere around here we can eat?" we asked two men strolling around Mount Canaan."Amuka," one answered immediately and ten minutes later we found ourselves in a western ranch, with all the trappings, seated before a generous, American style steak dinner. As we were walking out, still stunned, a white rabbit hopped by. "It will all disappear when we leave," Jeremiah said, "and we'll never be able to find it again." The peacocks we passed seemed to agree.