Smoking Ants

On the way to the swimming pool this afternoon we saw something strange. Thousands of ants carrying dozens of cigarette butts.

We all know about how ants live in organized and advanced civilizations but this is rather surprising. Who would have thought that deep down in their underground cosmos the giant ants are living a decadent life, smoking and maybe even drinking. As soon as I find evidence for the drinking I will post it here. Watch this space...

Our 7th Week

The week started with a visit to the beautiful office of New Horizon in Jaffa. Thabet Abu Rass and Zeev Degani, the co-directors of this new NGO / think tank were as welcoming as they were inspiring. Their work includes employing some academic, research tools and training in the quest for peaceful coexistence in this country. They will look at other countries with a civil conflict (such as Northern Ireland, Sri Lanka, Bosnia, South Africa), the strategies employed there and whether any of it can be adapted and used here. One of the most interesting things about New Horizon is the relationship between its co-directors. Thabet and Zeev are observing and reflecting on their relationship as a microcosm for Jews and Arabs living in a shared homeland. Let us hope that the ripples created by their deeds will reach far and wide.

The children are off school now for 10 days for the Jewish holiday of Succot and we are joining the thousands of Israelis, traveling the country. We went north yesterday to the Western Galil region to visit our Friends Salah and Mofida (and their son Rami). The Galil is a beautiful mountainous area where Jews, Druze, Christians and Muslims all live close by, some in mixed communities.

Some photos from our trip (Goren Forest)

Clare, Maya Dunia and Mofida overlooking Montfort, a Crusader Castle built 1226 - 1230.
Dunia and Rami;
Cheeky (Ben) Attitude (Elah) Contemplative (Maya) Salah and Ben

Salah sends his love to Felicity and the gang at the University of Westminster!

We had a lovely dinner with Osnat, Richard and 4 kids at Kibbutz Hanita and came back home at midnight tired but happy. The drive to Hanita, which sits right on the border with Lebanon was quite eerie. We set off after sunset from Goren forest, after spending a magical day with Salah and his family. The access road to the Kibbutz is some 5 km long, a winding road and a very steep climb up to 800 meters (2500 feet) above sea level. There are signs every few meters declaring a closed military area and we even encountered a couple of armoured personnel carriers. Ben was freaked out by the proximity to the border, remembering his time in the bomb shelters (as missiles were falling nearby) last summer, when we visited Israel during the war.

Off to Jerusalem tomorrow for 5 days.

Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur or the Day of Atonement, the holiest day in the Jewish
calendar is just about to finish. What I experienced in the last 24
hours is just amazing. Everyday life and its activities slowly ground to
a halt yesterday until it all ceased and transformed into something
unfamiliar. The people, usually passionate, loud, opinionated
and argumentative - and the place often chaotic - have become serene, calm and
reflective. Not a single car on the road! But the roads are only a
little less dangerous on Yom Kippur, as frenzied secular Israeli
children go out in their thousands with their bikes, skateboards and
roller blades, taking advantage of the empty streets, avenues and roads.

The air of calm, peace and serenity has filled me with optimism. If it's
possible to get a whole nation to assume this mode of being for one day
then the potential is there for peaceful coexistence.

The silence is reminding me of a different type of silence, one I am
encountering on a daily basis. Whenever I tell people (old friends and
new, Jews and Arabs) of my plans for the year (specifically leaning
Arabic and volunteering on the Barta'a project) I get either no
response (maybe just a smile or grimace) or the customary: why would you
want to do that? you're so naive, you don't know them, it won't help,
etc. But the silent response is the most difficult to deal with. I first
experienced this in 1989 at the Serpentine Gallery, London, where I was
working as a newly arrived student. I walked into a room full of people
I was due to be working with and was introduced by the person who
employed me. When asked by someone, where are you from? I replied,
Israel. Suddenly the whole room fell silent. It took me a few moments to
realize what had happened; I was from THAT place, a place viewed so
negatively you couldn't even mention it or talk about it. People give
you the silence treatment when it's too uncomfortable to embark on any
dialogue or conversation. It's easier to stay attached to your version of reality than trying to challenge your thinking, considering other perspectives.

Driving and the pathology of a nation

Driving on the roads can reveal the pathologies of a nation.

In the UK, people's anger and aggression all surface while driving the car in the form of road rage. Normally repressed, polite and understated, the British driver assumes a license to vent all his (or her) frustrations on the road.
In Israel, aggression pushiness and shouting is commonplace so the roads reveal a different type of pathology; egocentric, the average Israeli behaves as though he or she are the only person on the road. Ignoring other drivers or road signs, driving in Israel feels like playing Russian Roulette.

Having little consideration for the 'other' (any other) and being stuck in an ethnocentric world view has many other implications for Israeli society, some, on the 'micro' to do with the way people relate to one another in general, others, on the 'macro', to do with politics and the way one nation relates to the other.

My mother was discharged from hospital today with her own oxygen cylinder! After spending the long holiday weekend (4 days) by her bed side in a run down and soulless Tel Aviv hospital, my sister, father and I are relieved and happy that she is feeling much better.

After five weeks of not working (the longest 'holiday' ever) I treated my first patient today. I am very happy to be here.

Going to Givat Haviva to enroll on the Arabic course tomorrow and hoping to meet Thabet and Zeev (from New Horizon) next week in their Jaffa office. Will start my voluntary work after the Jewish Holidays and Ramadan.

Clare is feeling much better and thanks everyone for their love and support

---

Shana Tova and Ramadan Karim to all our friends

Clare

The children have stopped crying. Now Clare's tears are touching us all.
Ten days into our journey Clare found out she was pregnant. Unplanned, (yet, as we later found, not unwanted) this threw us into a spiral of emotions, coursing a different path from the one we envisaged. For Clare being pregnant means taking part in Creation (but not as part of a belief system; she rather feels it very deeply) so termination wasn't considered. As this wasn't a viable pregnancy, Clare started bleeding last week and finally miscarried 2 days ago. Her pain and grief though still unbearable, is slowly healing.
After several clinic and hospital visits (which showed the Israeli healthcare system to be modern and efficient) I am now in Tel-Aviv with my mother who is sick with pneumonia, feeling tired and drained.
Being with one's loved ones at times of suffering is difficult; the professional skills and experience I have gained over the years don't seem to count.

Summer is Over

and life in Israel begins to take shape. Today was the third day at school (the week begins on Sunday here!). The first two days were pretty traumatic for the girls:

Elah (5) was very anxious at her pre-school, tearful and confused the first day, refusing to go on the second day. Today though she skipped to school singing and laughing and kicked us out as soon as we got there.

Maya is finding the whole experience very difficult. In England school has always been a place Maya was happy to be, excelling and finding it easy. On the first day she came home crying saying she couldn't understand anything or do any work, begging to catch the first plane back to London. The second day was slightly better as she only had Maths Science and Sport on the agenda but this morning she refused to go to school since Hebrew was back. This is the most challenging time in her life (everything comes easy to Maya) and this year will no doubt contribute to her personal development. She is happier this evening having made some friends at school and enrolling on several extra curricular activities, including choir (singing is her passion).

It's tough making decisions for your children then see them suffer.

Ben (8) is happy! He has camped out in our (tiny) bedroom and sleeping through the night. He loves everything about being here and doesn't seem to miss his life in London. At school he day-dreams during lessons (so what's new) waiting for break time when he can run around and play.

Last night the mosquitoes attacked for the first time. They won the battle keeping us awake most of the night but I also blame the wild dogs barking. This evening we had to take pre-emptive measures. I am not proud to say that it had to include mosquito hunting (I won't go into detail but it was bloody). We shall see later on who has won the war.