Israel's Beverly Hills, produce, and "airplane food sucks."

As Jacky and I digest our day, washing down Mira's abundant cooking with American television and discussions of superficial observations- all those pin-prick details of culture that accumulate, eventually, into conveyable summaries, we've decided to compose a list. This is what we're picking off trees and sidewalks, shoving into our pockets and storing next to our passports, this is the awe, shock underscored by a knowledge of our lack of knowledge, foreigness, and yet simultaneous feeling of being in The Right Place. I speak for us both, I believe, when I say that we can only begin at the beginning, the overwhelming rush of emotion and "Did you see...?!?!" which overtakes any traveler with the plane's landing.

Without further ado:
1. Flora: orange trees lining parkinglots, kumquats littering sidewalks, wildflowers blanketing empty lots, snap dragons and trees in full bloom with blood-colored blossoms and petals like minature knives pulled fresh from a wound, and, subsequently, the smell of the air.
2. Fauna: women with "asses only rivaled in size by the hair on their head" (Jacky speaks what I attempt to do more poeticly, but honesty is the only thing capable of approaching this type of beauty), stares from all directions thrown not only from shelter car-windows provide like us safely voyeuristic Americans are accustomed to, "Arabs cleaning street corners" (Jacky, again, more appropriately phrasing the situation).

Other things:
The backdrop for the aforementioned is streets filled as equally with expected Americanization/Westernization as crowds, literally crowds, of able-bodied youth decked in Army green and Uzis, "gold-earrings and all the affectations of teenagers put into a uniformed situation," or, the army before they can even develop a sense of self. I'm aware that there is more than a measure of unfairness to that, but in this first post if all were to be qualified, first layers of complexity to be addressed, its length and emotional depth with exhaust both writers and audience. Zeev tells us that Israel's best commodity is the brain, and that the army now has the ability to pick and choose their ranks with a growing national population, meaning it's become a class issue: the wealthier and less problematic students are those chosen, or at least that is the case 81% of the time. Also, visiting here does not mean learning Hebrew, which means the process of acculturation needs redefining, in the best possible way - that said, Jacky would like to inform her parents that Schecter wasn't entirely a waste, as Hebrew is returning to her (albeit in bursts and baby steps, but enough to help me, the half-shiksa, who mumbles Shalom, toda, boker tov, etc. with a tongue thick and weighted with awareness of an accent, though I'll get over it being surrounded by confidence carried in hair-tosses, body language, and those epic stares, which all contribute to a general air to most Israelis I've met which can only be approximated by the French 'bien sur').

Most importantly, understand that this is not a war zone.


Gwen-o is in the bathroom and so I type freely! Gwen pees a lot, I read every sign I see just to make sure I know the alphabet. We drove through Ra'anana and I wanted to cry but only as a way of paying tribute. Being here feels incredibly right and comforting. The sidewalks are dirty and everyone smokes cigarettes, indoors, while holding their lattes. It's hard to get plain coffee here. The tomatos are bright red and taste delicious. I'm happy to be here. Gwen is happy to be here. She's drinking mineral water. Tap water is not encouraged "though with what justification, we still don't know. Just Adi's sneers." -G.M. Aha-bah.
Ok now Gwen wants to type. I'm done. -JMGF peas and love "shanti shanti"

Last details, my Feelings:
This must be what getting spoon fed life is like because we're provided for with gusto and hands waving off my thanks into "we're family"s, and the desert is BLOOMING. There is little observable poverty and homelessness in a way that we're used to, so, I'm pining after a visit to the territories. You know me, parents, wanting more, wanting honesty, begging for death, really! That is a joke, but not my hesitancy with spending a day in Israel at the mall. It was an experience, and I learned plenty from price-tags, gestures, popular lipstick colors and unfiltered mannerisms, and the fact that I was approached by shopkeepers in Hebrew (apparently, I blend well). This is just to say, there's so much left to learn, and that knowledge, desire, and certainty is worth living for. If living means staying away from the territories, it may be a fair trade.

With gratitude and affection,
love and community supported peas,
gwen.

p.s. Jacky assures her parents that she is not going to the territories.

p.p.s. Gwen assures her parents that she is not going to the territories.

We are happy to be alive.