Allison W. Good

AIPAC’s annual policy conference was held in Washington, D.C. last week, and recent events certainly made for an interesting event.  Speakers included Majority Leader Steny Hoyer (who I met back in August), Republican Whip Eric Cantor, Senators Charles Schumer and Lindsey Graham, Hillary Clinton, Tzipi Livni, and Bibi Netanyahu.  Wish I could have been there!

Let’s start with Hillary.  She spoke about her visits to Israel, put in a plug for two states and an end to the status quo, and voiced her concern for the Iranian nuclear threat and her support for preventative measures, AIPAC’s favorite subject at the present.  Then she got into more recent events:

But for negotiations to be successful, they must be built on a foundation of mutual trust and confidence. That is why both Israelis and Palestinians must refrain from unilateral statements and actions that undermine the process or prejudice the outcome of talks…It is our devotion to this outcome – two states for two peoples, secure and at peace – that led us to condemn the announcement of plans for new construction in East Jerusalem. This was not about wounded pride. Nor is it a judgment on the final status of Jerusalem, which is an issue to be settled at the negotiating table.

New construction in East Jerusalem or the West Bank undermines that mutual trust and endangers the proximity talks that are the first step toward the full negotiations that both sides say want and need…It undermines America’s unique ability to play a role – an essential role – in the peace process. Our credibility in this process depends in part on our willingness to praise both sides when they are courageous, and when we don’t agree, to say so, and say so unequivocally…We objected to this announcement because we are committed to Israel and its security, which we believe depends on a comprehensive peace.

The connection between the Jewish people and the Land of Israel cannot be denied. The connection between the Jewish people and Jerusalem cannot be denied.  The Jewish people were building Jerusalem 3,000 year ago and the Jewish people are building Jerusalem today. Jerusalem is not a settlement. It is our capital.

In Jerusalem, my government has maintained the policies of all Israeli governments since 1967…Today, nearly a quarter of a million Jews, almost half the city’s Jewish population, live in neighborhoods that are just beyond the 1949 armistice lines. All these neighborhoods are within a five-minute drive from the Knesset. They are an integral and inextricable part of modern Jerusalem. Everyone knows that these neighborhoods will be part of Israel in any peace settlement. Therefore, building them in no way precludes the possibility of a two-state solution.

My government has consistently shown its commitment to peace in both word and deed. From day one, we called on the Palestinian Authority to begin peace negotiations without delay. I make that same call today. President Abbas, come and negotiate peace. Leaders who truly want peace should be prepared to sit down face-to-face.

This is what my government has done for peace. What has the Palestinian Authority done for peace? Well, they have placed preconditions on peace talks, waged a relentless international campaign to undermine Israel’s legitimacy, and promoted the notorious Goldstone Report that falsely accuses Israel of war crimes.

The United Nations Human Rights Council passed three resolutions on Wednesday condemning Israel over its policies related to what it called Palestinian and Syrian territories, but the United States voted against them all.

I have a group of random photos I’ve taken around Jerusalem during the past few days.  Though there is no coherent theme, they don’t really belong in a Facebook album, and I want to put them somewhere.  Up first, the discount supermarket in Ramat Eshkol, an observant neighborhood near Mt. Scopus that attracts American olim (immigrants), gets ready for Pesach (the matzo is actually stacked ceiling-high):

Those boxes of cereal are all stamped with the word “ta’eem,” which means “tasty.”  I can assure you that this is not the case, as I have some not-so fond memories of eating the fake frosted cheerios when I was seven, during that brief period when my family actually kept pesach.  I think Dad even used to burn our chametz.  The only kosher for pesach specialty item I look forward to is macaroons.

Yesterday, Niri and I went downtown to pick up our Boombamelah tickets, and while we were there we ran a few errands.  I wanted to check out a non-kosher Jewish deli that my friend Steve told me about, because I wanted shrimp.  The deli man was really nice, and I did indeed buy shrimp.  I also got these great pictures of me with him behind the counter and of that night’s dinnertime creation:

This afternoon I went to get a haircut, and the weather was gorgeous, so Ben Yehuda was a nice walk:

I don’t have a narrow topic.  Or a list of reviewed literature.  The form is due March 31.  Pesach break starts on Thursday.  My adviser is on sabbatical next fall.  No reason to panic, right?

UPDATE: I’m o.k. now.

It’s obscene how much time I have on my hands, and therefore I blog.  A lot.  The international political community has essentially come to the consensus that the Israeli government royally messed up and that Netanyahu is ultimately responsible.  And I think that they are right.  However, there is much debate over the American response.  Sure, the White House didn’t need to be so harsh, but neoconservative columnist and theorist extraordinaire Charles Krauthammer, opined that the Obama administration “went nuclear.”  He claims that the incident was no more than a gaffe, and certainly neither a betrayal nor a crisis, since there was no policy change on building in Jerusalem.

And yet, the U.S. reaction was out of proportion.  Clinton’s spokesman, Philip Crowley, “publicly announced that Israel was now required to show in word and in deed its seriousness about peace” even after Netanyahu had apologized and Biden had accepted.  This is when Krauthammer goes off on a rant about how the peace process is one-sided:

Israel? Israelis have been looking for peace – literally dying for peace – since 1947, when they accepted the UN partition of Palestine into a Jewish and Arab state… Israel made peace offers in 1967, 1978 and in the 1993 Oslo peace accords that Yasser Arafat tore up seven years later to launch a terror war that killed a thousand Israelis.

Why, Clinton’s own husband testifies to the remarkably courageous and visionary peace offer made…at the 2000 Camp David talks.  Arafat rejected it. In 2008, prime minister Ehud Olmert offered equally generous terms to Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas. Refused again….In these long and bloody 63 years, the Palestinians have not once accepted an Israeli offer of permanent peace, or ever countered with anything short of terms that would destroy Israel.

Yes, Krauthammer thinks that the Palestinians are solely responsible for the absence of Israeli-Palestinian peace.  It’s not that he’s not well-informed, since he’s also a political theorist and did come up with the Reagan Doctrine (that the U.S. has to fight communism all over the world).  I just can’t understand how he got to that bottom line.  Also, this was printed in the Jerusalem Post, which has really been bothering me lately.  Although the website got a face-lift while I was in Europe, this publication is essentially a compilation of child-like rants and tirades by right-wing politicos who need to learn how to write.  There’s a reason why David Horowitz, the JPost’s editor, has never contributed to other pubs like Time and the New York Times, unlike his counterpart at Ha’aretz, who is the go-to guy for commentary on Israel.

This next thing is kind of weird, and it comes from Dry Bones, a blog by a semi-known cartoonist who made aliyah a while back:

This might have been logical and meaningful in the 19th century, but the only people who actually want their land back is those Texans who are really proud to be from Texas.  Also, Mexicans like to immigrate (albeit illegally) to the U.S. because there is opportunity to be had.  I don’t think any of them are complaining about their lives in New Mexico, Texas, and Arizona.  The quality of life is obviously better, and they don’t face the daily possibility of being murdered by drug lords.  There’s also NAFTA, etc.  So this really isn’t applicable to what happened in Israel.  Nevertheless, I think it’s entertaining because of its stupidity and naivete, and therefore worth sharing.

Perhaps I should start paying attention in class now and maybe learn something about International Law…

And what have I done academically speaking?  One interesting yet headache-inducing philosophy paper, one presentation about the application of Liberalism in International Relations in the Middle East, one bibliographical paper on that topic that’s not even due until June, one Hebrew test, and two Hebrew essays.  This semester is more than one third complete.  It’s official, folks: I’m just coasting, and it’s wonderful.  Meanwhile, we have a two-week break coming up for Passover, and it promises to be an interesting vacation.

On Thursday I’ll leave at 6 a.m. with 89 fellow Rothbergers on a bus to the north for the Sea to Sea (Yam l’Yam) hike.  A popular hike with both Israelis and visiting foreigners, it’s a hike that begins at the Mediterranean Sea near Haifa on the west coast and cuts straight across to the Kinneret, where it ends.  I have in fact already done this, but it was a miserable experience.  Flash back to April 2006.  I was 17, did not enjoy outdoor physical activity as much as I do now, and the weather wasn’t so great.  I think it was a 4 or 5-day trip total.  Buses took us from one hiking location to the next, we slept in tents outside, and on one day the rain was so bad that we were taken to Acco to explore the Arab market, which is also kind of outside.  We also did it during Passover, so our meals were limited to matzo, chocolate spread, packaged deli meats, cucumbers, and tomatoes.  My strongest memory of Acco is of me sitting in a courtyard and making lunch with my assigned group.  One of the girls attempted matzo brie with our crude propane tank and frying pan set-up.  The trip was simply miserable, and I faked a stomach ache one day so that I wouldn’t have to hike.  That was also the day we got news of a suicide bombing at Tel Aviv’s old central bus station that killed 11 people, as the Second Intifada was on its last leg.  Not my idea of a relaxing Passover, since the tradition here is to book a hotel in someplace nice like Eilat and just veg out.

This time, however, we’re finishing the hike before Passover, which starts next Monday night.  We’ll be sleeping in hostels and spending Shabbat in Tzfat, since we won’t be able to hike (you can hike on Shabbat, but I think it has to do with using buses).  I’m also in much better shape now.  Needless to say, it won’t be a real Sea to Sea because we won’t be hiking the whole way, but perhaps that’s better.  Europe was a trip, and I am in desperate need of a real vacation.

Then I’ll be going to Meitar, a suburb of Be’er Sheva in the Negev, for the seder.  Barbie, my mother’s friend, made aliyah after graduating from college and married Yossi, a Yemenite Jew who has a huge family that lives in the area.  I went to them for the seder in 2006, and the Yemenite tradition is very different from the matzo ball soup and macaroons that I grew up with.  Different, but Yemenite Jewish culture is actually Middle Eastern, and therefore in my opinion a better way to experience the holiday in Israel.  I didn’t understand much Hebrew back then so it was hard for me to understand what was going on, but perhaps it will be easier this time.  Also, a note about Passover in Israel: There is only one seder here.

Which brings me to a tangent.  Am I going to be kosher for Passover, as in will I give up all chametz (leavened products)?  The answer is yes, since I don’t eat those things in general.  However, the act of foregoing this part of the food pyramid is supposed to have meaning, but it won’t so much for me.  Matzo?  I’ll keep it to the barest minimum at the seder, just enough to make a Hillel sandwich, but it’s not good for me for reasons that I won’t go into here.  Traditional Ashkenazi Jews also steer clear of kitniyot (“small things,” i.e. beans, peas, lentils, corn, rice, etc.), but I’m not traditional and was not even aware of this custom among my ancestors until I came to Israel and befriended people who had more observant families.

The pièce de résistance, however, is Boombamela, an annual Israeli music festival on the beach between Ashkelon and Ashdod.  I invite you to read the overview here.  And I really think that’s all that needs to be said about that.

That’s it for now, but I’ll try to do a post about Passover prep in Israel before I leave!

Whenever I go to Tel Aviv, the first thing I always ask myself is, “So when can I move here?”  Black hats are the minority, everyone is young and cool and hip (and actually knows how to dress), treif is widely available, the beach is gorgeous, a lot of restaurants are open on weekends, the list goes on and on.  And yet, if I had chosen to go to Tel Aviv University instead, I would have been a renegade genuine and down-to-earth person in a sea of Jewish American Princesses.  Sure, we have our fair share here at Rothberg, but the situation is even worse at TAU from what I know.  Also, if I went to TAU I would have to try so hard not to go to the beach and/or go shopping everyday instead of going to class.  So there are certainly advantages to Hebrew U, and of course Jerusalem is where I want to be, smack dab in the middle of history, but it does suffocate you and at some point you just need to go to Tel Aviv.  Which is why I went twice last week, on Thursday and Friday.

It was so tempting to skip my only Thursday class, which doesn’t end until noon.  I hadn’t taken a mental health day so far this semester, so I thought some quality time at the beach was well-deserved.  Israel had a chamsin, or heatwave, last week, so it was maybe around 90 degrees and definitely humid.  I so enjoyed lying on my towel in my suit, absorbing those dangerous UVB rays.  Unfortunately, though, the water was too cold for total body immersion.  We were out of there by 5 p.m., and I returned to the k’far pleasantly tired from the sun.

The next day I went back, but this was planned as opposed to my semi-impulsive beach trip.  It might surprise you to know that it’s actually cheaper to go and come back than to stay overnight at a hostel, and the cheap hostel on the beach is pretty gross in my opinion.  We left really early because we wanted to shop at Nachalat Binyamin, the artists’ market, before going to the monthly street party on Rothschild Street.  I’ve been to Nachalat Binyamin a few times before, and I just can’t restrain myself when it comes to this one woman who sells silver jewelry embedded with colorful stones, so I added another pair of earrings to my collection.  In addition to jewelry, a variety of vendors sell Judaica, recycled newspaper housewares, pottery, homemade puzzles, notepads and notebooks, and some weird toys.  Here’s some of the more typical stuff:

And some of the not-so-typical stuff, like these sheep made from recycled sponge, recycled liquor bottle clocks, and milk carton holders:

Tel Aviv’s shuk is just one street over, so we went there next to look around and explore.  While Machane Yehuda in Jerusalem is mostly food, the one in Tel Aviv has all sorts of cheap clothing, tacky jewelry, and shoes in addition to fruit juice stands and the obvious produce and baked goods stalls.  Because it was early Friday afternoon right before Shabbat, we could barely move.  I know I put up so many pictures of challah, but these were the cutest mini-loaves:

As we walked around and noticed how cheap everything was, we decided to buy a picnic lunch of turkey, tomatoes, cucumbers, strawberries, and bananas, supplemented by some cottage cheese from a supermarket.  We were on our way out when I spotted to my left the fish vendor.  In front of the salmon steaks, though, I saw a most beautiful sight to behold: SHRIMP.  i.e., TREIF, and therefore NOT KOSHER.  RIGHT THERE IN THE SHUK.  Shellfish is forbidden because a fish must have scales and gills in order to be kosher, and it would be foolish to sell treif at Machane Yehuda because the black hats would flip a you-know-what and probably start a riot.  My day was made when upon taking a closer look I discovered they were cooked, and I didn’t hesitate before buying a half kilo for 35 shekels, or $9.41.  Not sure how good of a deal it was, but I didn’t care because I was about to eat viable shellfish for the first time in a very long time.  I think my roommates thought I was a bit crazy, but I was to be reunited with the most perfect of foods.

At the end of Allenby Street we unpacked at a table outdoors, washed the fruit and veggies in a nearby public bathroom, and sat down to our cheap feast of the freshest Israel has to offer.  Our lack of utensils forced us to get creative:

And me, so very ecstatic, with my shrimp:

My precious little critters were delicious, and I savored every tail because who knows when I’ll see them again.  Lunch was certainly a success.  Boy do I love Tel Aviv!

It was a bit overcast at this point, so Niri and I walked to Rothschild for the street party because the beach didn’t seem worth it.  Though it wasn’t so crowded when we arrived, by the time we met up with some of our Rothberg buds everyone was packed in like sardines.  A sign on one of the police barriers said the capacity was 8,000 people.  In essence, it was a huge dance party with lots of DJs and booze and a few stalls of hipsters selling their graphic tees and embellished headbands.  The music was great, we got free hats, and the majority of the crowd was under 30.  Pool in the middle of the neutral ground (it’s not a median), guys dressed up like the Queen’s Guard, and Niri and I:

Also, adorable little boy selling hotdogs, rooftop fun, and a DJ:

This is what the crowd looked like mid-afternoon when Niri and I took a break and crossed to the non-party side of Rothschild for some sitting, tea/coffee-drinking, sunflower seed-munching, and people-watching:

By the time our other friends who had gone to the beach arrived at the party, it was winding down, but it cooled down a bit and the crowd was thinning, so we went back and danced until it was over.  Afterward, we walked down Rothschild all the way to Dizengoff Street, and on the way I spotted a few potential future summer apartments.  I’ll be taking a vote:

Everyone was famished, and we ended our perfectly relaxing day in Tel Aviv with dinner at Japanika, an Israeli sushi franchise that’s really good and really cheap.  I had tofu for the first time in Israel, never realizing how much I missed it until then (you can get it at the supermarket but it’s unreasonably expensive), and I also had salmon.  Wow, shellfish and fish in the same day in Israel!  Oh, Tel Aviv, how you spoil me.

So what do you do during the sheirut ride back to Jerusalem?  Make plans to go back the next weekend!  There’s a very interesting “exhibit” at the Holon Children’s Museum in a suburb of Tel Aviv called “Dialogue in the Dark” in which the visitor experiences life as a blind person for a little over an hour.  I had never heard of it, but my roommates had and so we decided to check it out today.  After an expensive cab ride due to the general confusion of Tel Aviv’s bus station (which is also the ugliest and most haphazardly designed structure I have ever seen), we finally arrived for our tour (reservations are required), not knowing what to expect.  We bought our tickets, were given walking sticks, and entered total, pitch-black darkness.  All of the guides are either blind or visually impaired, and ours was waiting for us inside.

Ma’ayan led us through a hallway and told us that we would be experiencing scenes from everyday life, and that we would need to harness our other four senses.  I gradually accustomed to channeling my sense of sound in order to focus on following her voice.  Our first stop was a sort of park, where I found and touched a waterfall.  There was actual gravel, grass, and dirt.  I definitely had a hard time adjusting to the dark, and it was disorienting to not be able to see what exactly it was I was touching.  Next, we went inside a cabin with a bed, kitchen utensils, and a sculpture of a Native American, of all things.  I found a rack with a pair of shoes.

Then she told us it was time to leave the country and go to the city, so we took a short boat ride.  Upon exiting the boat we were bombarded with the urban sounds of a metropolis, as we discovered a car, a motorcycle, a bike rack with a bicycle, and a house.  I was constantly scared that I would trip, since there were real sidewalks on either side of the street.

From there we went to the shuk, which was my favorite part because grocery shopping is definitely the daily and most basic activity that I connect to the most.  On either side of me I felt the fruits and vegetables in the baskets: onions, potatoes, oranges, carrots, cucumbers.  There was also the scale that they use to weigh everything, and a bicycle with a basket.

Our second-to-last stop was the music room, where we listened to a variety of genres for six minutes.  Not having the ability to see, I focused instead on the vibrations of the music, and found that my ears were especially sensitive.  Finally, we went to the cafeteria, where you can actually get food.  Still “blind,” we ordered drinks and sat down as Ma’ayan encouraged us to ask her questions.  We learned that she is not blind, which means that you cannot see anything at all, but visually impaired, which can mean anything from just being able to distinguish between light and darkness all the way up to seeing everything extremely blurry.  Ma’ayan is at the latter end of the spectrum, but because visual impairments occur in parts like the cornea and retina, they cannot be corrected by glasses or laser surgery.  However, she does not use a dog or a stick because those are only for blind people who cannot see what’s in front and to the sides.  Although it’s a blessing that she’s “high-functioning,” she said it’s also difficult because people don’t always understand that she has a visual impairment since she doesn’t need a stick or a dog.  She is in her fourth year of studying psychology and education at Tel Aviv University, which means she’s probably around our age.  Also, she was born with the visual impairment and so has never been able to see sharply.

When I exited the complex, my eyes hurt.  Ma’ayan had also told us that when she started working at the museum she had had to adjust as well since she is not blind.  We finally got to see her, and she looks just like any other female 20-something university student.  In the end, I was just so happy to be able to see again, and I definitely have a new-found appreciation for my sight as well as more respect for the blind and visually impaired.  I have gone to private schools all my life where almost no one has been handicapped in any form.  But at Hebrew University I have noticed a lot of blind students, especially when I ride the bus to school.  I can only hope that it never becomes a reality for me.

We wanted to have a late lunch at Benedict, Tel Aviv’s famous 24/7 breakfast place, but when we got there the line was too long and so we ventured further down Rothschild to Cafe Hillel, an Israeli coffee house chain like Aroma, where we sat outside in the sunny, chilly breeze and lived the Tel Aviv life of sitting in cafes and just being.  The view from my perch:

And that, my friends, is a taste of Tel Aviv.  Sorry for the lack of extensive photography, but I hope it was still entertaining!

But, unfortunately, not in a good way.  If you’re optimistic about Middle East peace, don’t read on, or else be prepared to accept the concrete reality.  It has to do with the dedication of the rebuilt Hurva Synagogue in the Old City’s Jewish Quarter, but in order to understand what happened today, we have to take a trip back in time to the 2nd century, when the first synagogue to be on the Hurva site existed.  Fast forward to 1700, when Yehuda ha’Chasid and his posse of ascetic mystics arrived from Europe and settled in Jerusalem in order to advance the arrival of the Messianic Era.  The day after their arrival, Yehuda ha’Chasid died, but his followers still managed to build a synagogue and planned an even greater one on the site of the original Hurva.  So they started building it, but it proved to be too expensive and the Chasidim had to borrow from Arabs and bribe Ottoman authorities.  Their clients waist-deep in debt, the Arab lenders became frustrated and set the synagogue on fire in 1720 and told the Ashkenazim to get lost.

In the early 1800s the Perushim, an ascetic group from Lithuania, immigrated to Palestine and tried to reclaim the Ashkenazic Compound, within which lay the ruins of the failed reconstruction of the Hurva.  In 1815, their leader directed his main efforts to rebuilding the synagogue, which had symbolized the expulsion of the Ashkenazim in Jerusalem.  However, not only did they intend to demonstrate the re-establishment of Ashkenazic presence in the city, but they were also adhering to the kabbalist idea that the “repairing” of an earlier destruction would represent the first step of rebuilding the entire city, a prerequisite for the arrival of the Messiah.  After years of negotiating with Arab and Ottoman officials, a synagogue was eventually built in the Hurva courtyard, but not on the site of the ruins.  The attempt for a synagogue on the site of the ruins became more likely after the British won the Crimean War and became more willing to intervene on behalf of its subjects living in Jerusalem, and the Hurva Synagogue was finished in 1864.  Considered to be the most important synagogue in the Land of Israel, all was well and good until May 1948.

Israel’s War for Independence had just begun on May 14th,the day after the end of the British Mandate and its declaration of independence.  On May 27th, the Jordanian army blew up the Hurva Synagogue.  Israel captured the Old City in 1967 during the Six-Day War, rehabilitating the Jewish Quarter and the site of the synagogue’s ruins.  A debate about whether or not the Hurva should be reconstructed (and if so, then how) ensued, and in 2000 the Israeli government finally approved a plan to rebuild it in its original 19th century style.  It was just dedicated yesterday.

For the Palestinians, the reopening of the Hurva Synagogue has severe implications: First stop the Hurva, next stop the reconstruction of the Third Temple on the Temple Mount.  Yesterday, Palestinian leaders called for a “day of rage” (today) to protest both this and the announcement about the 1,600 new settler units.  Jerusalem police employed security measures such as not allowing men under the age of 50 to enter the Temple Mount, but that didn’t prevent East Jerusalem from erupting in violence.  Some of these demonstrations, which included throwing rocks (obviously) and burning tires, took place not too far from Hebrew University.  My friends who stayed at school after I had left told me they heard gunshots and helicopters from the classrooms, and once things had died down I received a text message telling me that the riots had been, for the most part, contained.  In the end, 60 Arab rioters were arrested and 14 policemen were wounded.

That seems to be the story for now.  Last week the issue was settlers and building, this time it’s purely religious differences.  I really am starting to get the whole picture now.  Israel can’t forbid its people from building a synagogue in the Jewish Quarter.  It was never intended to deliberately provoke the Palestinians.  But if the Palestinians think that throwing rocks is going to get them anywhere this time, they are seriously deranged.  The I.D.F. isn’t going to retaliate, it’s not the Second Intifada, but they won’t gain anything, either.  And as long as the U.S. has anything to say about it, Israel won’t be taking control of the Temple Mount anytime soon.

I do eventually want to see the Hurva, but don’t worry folks, I can wait as long as I need to.

That’s what Michael Oren, Israel’s Ambassador to the U.S., is calling the Interior Ministry’s outrageously unstrategic announcement that it had approved the construction of 1,600 new housing units in the east Jerusalem neighborhood of Ramat Shlomo, which was made during Vice President Biden’s trip to Israel.  Here’s what happened, as per Thomas Friedman’s column:

As Friedman puts it simply, “The Palestinians don’t trust Netanyahu, and Netanyahu has serious doubts as to whether the divided Palestinian leadership can deliver.”  And yet, after nine months, On the eve of Biden’s visit, U.S. special envoy to the Middle East George Mitchell had finally persuaded the Israelis and Palestinians to agree on “‘proximity talks’–the Palestinians would sit in Ramallah and the Israelis in Jerusalem and Mitchell would shuttle 30 minutes between them.”  How backwards we’ve traveled since Oslo!  The clinching deal between U.S. and Israeli aides, though, was that “if America got talks going, there would be no announcements of buildings in East Jerusalem, nothing to embarrass the Palestinians and force them to walk.”  Apparently, Netanyahu agreed, “but made clear he couldn’t commit to anything publicly.”  The Times called this “the first diplomatic breakthrough in the Middle East for the Obama Administration.”  Biden arrived on March 8th, and the announcement was made the next day.

Biden immediately issued a public condemnation from Jerusalem: “The substance and timing of the announcement … is precisely the kind of step that undermines the trust we need right now and runs counter to the constructive discussions that I’ve had here in Israel.”  That phrase “undermines the trust” created a lot of broohaha, for Friedman notes that “what the Israelis did played right into a question a lot of people are asking about the Obama team: how tough are these guys?

Even during Obama’s presidential campaign, Biden was always the down-home, tell-it-like-it-is kind of guy.  That’s one of the reasons he was tapped for VP, and there’s just no messing with Joe.  He was clearly insulted by the Israeli government, and so he naturally “lashed out.”  The U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv, however, used a more toned-down rhetoric: “that the United States opposed unilateral actions that prejudiced negotiations between Israel and the Palestinian Authority aimed at creating two states and that this was such an action.”  Of course, the Interior Ministry immediately rushed to defend itself, stating that” the housing plan was three years in the making and that its announcement was procedural and unrelated to Mr. Biden’s visit,” and that Netanyahu had “just been informed of it himself.”  For once the Israeli media is mostly in agreement that something went seriously wrong.

On March IIth, Biden gave his keynote public address as Tel Aviv University (transcript is here).  After all of that mushy memoir stuff (growing up listening to his father talk about the Jews’ connection to the land of Israel, first trip to Israel, feeling kinship to Golda Meir, etc.), he finally launched into a reiteration of the U.S.-Israel love-affair with gusto:

I am here to remind you, though I hope you will never forget, that America stands with you shoulder-to-shoulder in facing these [security] threats.

American support for Israel is not just an act of friendship; it’s an act of fundamental national self-interest on the part of the United States, a key component to our broader efforts to secure this region and a wider world, as well as our own security.

And then, on the subject of the unprecedented opportunity for peace presented by the leadership of PA President Abbas and Prime Minister Fayyad, the no-nonsense Joe:

Their commitment to peace is an opportunity that must be seized.  It must be seized.  Who has there been better to date, to have the prospect of settling this with?  But instead, two days ago the Israeli government announced it would advance planning for new housing units in East Jerusalem.  I realize this is a very touchy subject in Israel as well as in my own country.  But because that decision, in my view, undermined the trust required for productive negotiations, I — and at the request of President Obama condemned it immediately and unequivocally.

A lot of applause after that one.  If anyone ever doubted that a top U.S. official in the Obama administration could ever give Israel a real kick, Joe defies this contextual stereotype:

But quite frankly, folks, sometimes only a friend can deliver the hardest truth.  And I appreciate, by the way, the response your Prime Minister today announced this morning that he is putting in place a process to prevent the recurrence of that sort of events and who clarified that the beginning of actual construction on this particular project would likely take several years — a statement he put out.  That’s significant, because it gives negotiations the time to resolve this, as well as other outstanding issues.  Because when it was announced, I was on the West Bank.  Everyone there thought it had meant immediately the resumption of the construction of 1,600 new units.

You should really read the entire speech.  It’s actually quite good, and who knew Biden was such a skilled orator?  Personally, I thought his bits about the construction announcement were tasteful and well-played, considering that it had happened only 2 days before and he was addressing the audience at a top-notch Israeli university.

And what about the Palestinians?  PA sources say that the talks will take place despite the controversy, and despite the Arab League’s recommendation that its members withdraw their support for the talks, and that the Palestinian side is satisfied with the U.S. response.  Though the Israeli government stated that its decision would not be reversed, Biden reassured Abbas that “Washington would continue to exert heavy pressure on Israel to prevent it from taking ‘provocative’ measures such as the construction of new houses in east Jerusalem or the West Bank.”

Also on March 11th Interior Minister Eli Yishai, who is also the leader of the Shas party (read Friedman here: “The move seems to have been part of a competition between two of Netanyahu’s right-wing Sephardi ministers from the religious Shas Party over who can be the greater champion of building homes for Sephardi orthodox Jews in East Jerusalem”).

That same day, Anti Defamation League National Director Abe Foxman wrote: “Whatever the motivation and whoever the responsible party, it is the government of Israel that justifiably is held accountable for converting an optimal moment in U.S.-Israel relations into a moment of crisis. The crucial point is that the government had an obligation to anticipate what might go wrong during the vice president’s visit and to give firm instruction to all cabinet members about avoiding such pitfalls, particularly on the subjects of settlements and East Jerusalem.”

Biden left for Jordan, but Secretary of State Clinton was the next to pounce on Netanyahu; she called him and “‘[made] clear the United States considered the announcement a deeply negative signal about Israel’s approach to the bilateral relationship and counter to the spirit of the vice president’s trip…The secretary said she could not understand how this happened, particularly in light of the United States’ strong commitment to Israel’s security.’”

On March 15th, David Axelrod, now a senior adviser to Obama, declared the announcement to be an “affront”: “We’ve just gotten … so-called proximity talks going between the Palestinians and the Israelis and this seemed calculated to undermine that.”

Somewhere in all of this Netanyahu offered an apology which Biden accepted, but the U.S. is still pushing and Foxman said yesterday that “US criticism of Israel was ‘especially troubling’ because Netanyahu had offered clear explanations of the announcement mishap both publicly and privately.”  All this aside, Netanyahu has given no indication that he intends to scrap the building plans, and has only emphasized that building will continue  Which brings us to where we are right now.

So what does this incident tell us?  First, it says plain and clear that Jerusalem is the core problem in terms of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the peace process impasse, and things have regressed to the point that proximity talks are the Middle East’s best bet.  Second, because Jerusalem is indeed at the heart of things, I am convinced now more than ever that building in East Jerusalem and the West Bank must stop if there is to be any progress made.  The Interior Ministry is playing with fire, because Biden apparently told Israeli officials that this sort of thing also “‘undermines the security of our troops who are fighting in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan. That endangers us and endangers regional peace.’”  Harsher words were rarely spoken.  Third, Netanyahu needs to get a grip on his government.  Peres tapped him to form a coalition for a reason, and while he’s already proven himself a capable leader, Netanyahu really got it wrong this time, and he can give as many apologies as he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t prevent the Interior Ministry from making its biggest mistake.

Well, things finally got juicy.  I was worried that I wouldn’t have anything like this to write about from Israel, that everything would just be business as usual.  This week, both Netanyahu and Clinton are scheduled to speak at AIPAC’s national conference, so we’ll see how that goes.  Until then, enjoy the once-every-generation U.S.-Israel crisis while it lasts!

I finally made the effort to leave Jerusalem for the weekend, and it definitely paid off.  Upon returning from Europe, my roommates and I made a list of what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go this semester, and one of those things was riding bikes around the Kinneret, or Sea of Galilee, a crucial water source for Israel.  Located in the northern part of Israel, it’s bordered on its right side by the Golan Heights and on its south by the Jordan River Valley.  The Kinneret is also the second-lowest lake on Earth, and its water is usually at a dangerously low level.  The Water Authority uses red and black lines to determine this danger, and until recently the Kinneret was in the black, “the point where irreversible damage begins to occur at a rapid pace.”  Despite this apocalyptic outlook, the Kinneret is a beautiful feat of nature meant to be enjoyed.

My four Winnipeg compadres and I stayed in a hostel in Tiberias (טבריה), one of Judaism’s Four Holy Cities.  Why so holy?  From the 2nd-10th century it was the religious hub of the Palestinian Jews, and the tombs of Maimonides, Yochanan Ben Zakai (a “founder” of Rabbinic Judaism), and Rabbi Meir, a legendary Mishnaic sage (period from 70-200) who the Talmud says was a descendant of the Roman Emperor Nero.  Also, don’t forget that the Kinneret was where Jesus supposedly walked on water.

These days, Tiberias is a resort town that reminded me of Fort Walton Beach in Florida: a bit kitschy and a bit tacky.  I’m sure it’s packed and lively during the summer, but at the beginning of March it’s bound to be sleepy, which turned out to be the case.  In terms of stuff to do, it’s all about water sports and biking.  I wouldn’t say that it’s a place for sightseeing, except for those tombs and the Roman ruins, but in Europe I did 10 years worth of sightseeing and I wanted to become one with the great Israeli outdoors.  Our hostel was nice enough and we had a room to ourselves.  The management, however, was a bit sketchy; when we wanted to go to a nearby movie theater on Friday night to see “It’s Complicated” and found out that the taxi rides alone would empty our pockets, an employee offered to drive us there and leave us at a tzomet, or junction/crossroads, because he didn’t know enough about the place to actually get us there.  We abruptly refused and spent the night watching TV instead.

After a 2-hour, 45-minute bus ride from Jerusalem, we arrived in Tiberias mid-afternoon.  The hostel was only a 15-minute walk from the station, and as soon as we dropped our bags off in our room it was time to explore.  For a while we walked along the waterfront, and then we sat down to coffee until it got dark.  Sorry about the glare:

The hostel didn’t have a kitchen, so we had no choice but to go to one of the tourist traps, since it was Friday evening and therefore Shabbat, meaning the pickings were much slimmer.  I got St. Peter’s fish, which is native to the Kinneret.  Then it was back to the hostel for the night.  Ashlyn and Niri in our room:

The next morning, we woke up super early for it being Shabbat, around 7:30.  Everyone we had spoken to told us it would take about 6 hours to completely circle the Kinneret’s perimeter of 65 kilometers, or about 40 miles.  Our goal was to get out the door by 8:30 so that we’d get most of the biking done before the sun reached its peak and we really felt the strain and exhaustion from such a daunting physical task undertaken by the most amateur of cyclers.  Here’s a map so you know what I’m talking about:

Obviously, we began in Tiberias, the biggest black dot on the map (left side), but we chose to go to our right rather to our left, because the hostel’s manager said it would be less hilly that way.  He also circled some points of interest along the way, which turned out to be helpful.  Embarking upon my adventure, I was so happy to see so much green.  Europe was white and gray, the Negev is all sand and dry heat, but the Galilee and Golan regions are so lush with flora because of the Kinneret makes for fertile soil.  There was so much color, and the air was so fresh and slightly humid.  This was taken somewhere between Tiberias and the Kinneret’s southern tip:

Our first stop was Kibbutz Degania (which is actually divided into two kibbutzim, Degania Aleph and Degania Bet), located in the Jordan River Valley, soon after I took that picture.  It hadn’t struck me on the map, but when I saw the signs for it on the highway I knew I had to see it.  Why so eager? Degania Aleph was the first kibbutz ever established in the Land of Israel, founded by the World Zionist Organization and established by pioneers in 1909 when Palestine was still under Ottoman control.  The land was officially handed over to the commune of workers in 1910.  In 2007, Degania Aleph underwent privatization, so now instead of having assigned jobs and equal pay under the rule of the elders, people seek their jobs, earn salaries, and own their homes.  Degania Bet, on the other hand, was established in 1920 by members of the Second Aliyah.  I couldn’t find anything about Degania Aleph’s economic pursuits, but Degania Bet has a dairy herd, crop fields, almond orchards, fruit plantations, and a silicone factory in addition to benefiting from tourism.  We did a quick ride around Aleph, and these are my few snapshots:

And now for some Golan foothills scenery, by far the most beautiful photos from my trip:

About halfway up the eastern shore of the Kinneret, we stopped at another kibbutz, Kibbutz Ein Gev (one of the green dots on the map).  Founded in 1937, its primary sources of income are agriculture and tourism, much like Degania Bet (and Degania Aleph I presume).  The area meant for tourists is really nice and definitely doesn’t give you the “roughing it” feel that you still find in a lot of kibbutzim:

There was also a memorial to Teddy Kollek, a founding member of the kibbutz who was mayor of Jerusalem from 1965 to 1993 and died in 2007; he was responsible for transforming Jerusalem into a modern city:

Also, Niri and Dafna against the backdrop of the Kinneret:

Ein Gev also has an artists’ workshop:

After some a brief reprieve from our bikes and some snacking, we took a short ride around the residential area:

Don’t get me wrong, I love kibbutzim, but there just comes a point when I can no longer handle the smell.  On our way out, I spotted the source (cows):

It was around 11:15 by the time we left Ein Gev, and we had traversed almost half of the Kinneret’s circumference.  But the sun was only getting hotter, and we knew we had to get a move on if we wanted to finish within that 6-hour timeframe.  About an hour and a half later, we were all starving and stopped to eat at a clearing on the side of the road in between Ramot and Kinnar (both green dots, see map).  Lunch was longer than I would have liked for it to be, but we were really feeling the effect of the heat.  We also had a long stop at a nearby junction after we left because Ashlyn thought her bike was broken.  After that, it also started to get more hilly, and therefore more difficult.  The Kinneret:

I think they were somewhere near Capernaum (map) around maybe 2:30 when Niri and Ashlyn decided they couldn’t go on, and called the hostel to be picked up.  Leah, Dafna, and I kept on truckin’.  Though I hadn’t had to yet, there came a point when I just had to walk my bike when we got to a hill that was really steep with a slope that was almost a mile long.  There was no way I could do it, and I don’t understand how everyone else who bikes this route is supposed to do it, either.  That mile was definitely the hardest part of the ride because I was walking uphill, tired and thirsty, with a bike that wasn’t so light.

Fast forward to 4:15.  We are so done with this, but there’s not much more left.  Tiberias is just within our reach:

We see this sign and we are so happy that we have to stop to take pictures (that’s me in the first one):

What we left behind:

Fifteen minutes later we were back at the hostel.  Clocking in at 4:30, that made it 8 hours.  Eight hours.  It was a lot, but I was so glad I did it, not that there was ever any question of me quitting midway.  And I felt really good and accomplished when I finished it.  It’s cool to be able to say that I biked 40 miles in the great Israeli outdoors.  We returned to Jerusalem that night tired, hungry, and achy, but satisfied with our first real attempt to travel beyond Tel Aviv on a weekend!

Wow, the last one.  Never thought I would reach this day but, alas, the time has arrived, so I’ll dive right in.  Kareen had told me so much about Normandy, where she owns a tiny apartment close to the beach, and wouldn’t you know the region isn’t so far away from Paris.  Rouen, one of Normandy’s major cities, was only an hour by train and I needed to see its cathedral, which Monet famously painted at various points throughout the day.  And what more could I possibly do in Paris?  It was time for a day-trip.

I woke up early enough that I had a while until I needed to be at the train station, so I ended up at Ladurée, the last salon de thé on my list that Let’s Go describes as “the inside of a Fabergé egg.”  Originally created in 1862 as a bakery, it became a salon de thé in the 20th century when Ernest Ladurée’s wife recognized the need for a new kind of space for women to interact, since the literary salons of the 19th century were “outmoded.”  The original Ladurée is in the Madeleine (where I went), but other stores have opened around Paris since then.  The outside:

I had a lovely cup of tea, which I didn’t know would be my last in Paris.  According to the website, the frescoes on the walls depict “angelic pastry chefs and voluptuous ladies.”  As for the Fabergé egg thing, I can see how the frescoes and gold-trimmed molding would create that sort of atmosphere:

Then it was off to Rouen.  I loved the city’s quaint atmosphere, cute houses, and Gothic churches and cathedrals, but what I didn’t know until I went to the tourist office is that Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc), one of the patron saints of France, was burned at the stake here in the center of the old city in 1431 after leading the French to numerous victories during the Hundred Years’ War.  She was eventually captured by the Burgundians, sold to the English, tried for heresy, and found guilty.  The first site I saw after leaving the train station was the tower where she was imprisoned during her trial:

My ultimate goal was to get to the Rouen Cathedral by opening time at 2 p.m., so until then I just wandered around the streets, running into interesting sites along the way.  The architecture of the vielle ville is dominated by old medieval structure with the decorative half-timbering, much like in Strasbourg’s La Petite France:

But there was also a lot of 19th-century buildings of various types mixed in.  In the first picture, you can see a Haussman-type apartment building on the right, and the building in the second reminded me of the SS interrogation center I saw on the Red Berlin tour:

I also saw something that was really cool: a newer house in that medieval half-timber style that was built using the remaining stone wall of what looks like used to be an old church or cathedral:

Continuing with the story of Jeanne d’Arc, she was posthumously retried after the war ended at the behest of the Pope, and in 1456 the court declared her innocent and rehabilitated her in Rouen’s episcopal palace:

Close by was the Eglise Saint-Maclou, a late Gothic church reconstructed in the 15th century whose entrance looks like it could use a little bit of work:

I also walked down to the bank of the Seine (which divides Rouen like it does Paris):

Also, Square Guillaume Lion (as in Richard the Lionheart):

Wait, Richard the Lionheart?  But wasn’t he English?  King Richard I (second half of the 12th century) was indeed English, but he was also the Duke of Normandy and held other duchies and countships in France as well.  He actually spoke very little English and spent very little time in England, preferring his Duchy of Aquitaine, and his nickname came from his reputation as a great military leader and warrior.

This brings me to my visit to the Rouen Cathedral, the city’s main attraction and raison d’être, so to speak.  Construction began in 1202, but additions were made all the way up until 1880.  Unfortunately, the Calvinists (enemies of the Catholics) destroyed most of the furniture, tombs, stained-glass windows, and statues during the Protestant Reformation and resulting religious wars of the 16th century.

The side where I entered, and the front facade, which is currently being restored (the cathedral is so massive it was hard to get good, detailed photos):

Let’s start with the general survey of the interior:

I guess these are the statues that the Calvinists didn’t completely destroy:

Also, a stained-glass window made with that Chartres blue:

The tombs of two notables complete the Rouen Cathedral.  The first one is that of Rollo, the 9th- and 10th-century founder and ruler of the first Viking principality in the region now known as Normandy.  A direct ancestor of William the Conqueror, he died around 932.  The second tomb is that of Richard the Lionheart.  I dedicate the photo of this tomb to Rachel Eisen, my best friend at Vassar who is a History Major and British History buff:

I do believe that’s it for the cathedral, but I wasn’t finished with Rouen.  On my way to the Gros-Horloge (Great Clock), I checked out the Palais de Justice, a Gothic masterpiece built around 1470:

The Gros-Horloge is an astronomical clock (Europe loves those too, obviously).  Constructed in the late 14th century, the Gothic belfry has housed the town’s bells and clock since then, but the current archway and clock faces were rebuilt during the 16th century:

My last stop in Rouen was the Musée des Beaux-Arts, which has a few small rooms of paintings by Impressionist artists who at some point lived in the city.  The last museum!  I hopped on a train back to Paris, already planning my next day, but fate wouldn’t have it so, because the next morning it was clear that I was suffering from a stomach virus.  I slept for almost 2 days straight, ended up changing my flight home, and basically holed myself up in Kareen’s apartment until my health improved.  It was bound to happen at some point, because my medical history dictates that in this kind of situation something will always happen to me.  And that’s the anticlimactic end to my Europe trip!

Now it’s time for the wrap-up, where I tell you what I learned about myself, how this experience changed my life, blah blah blah.  Things I learned in general:

1. Don’t try to see and do everything.  It’s just not meant to happen, and you will run yourself into the ground and eventually get some sort of sickness because your exhausted immune system can’t handle it.

2. Don’t plan everything ahead of time.  I booked a flight for Geneva I didn’t use, and booked hostels for Geneva, Amboise, and Prague that I never stayed in.  You can’t predict what’s going to happen while you’re actually traveling, and in my case I was already tired of moving from place to place by the time I got to Nice that I decided to cut out Switzerland and have more time in Florence, which was one of my favorite cities.

3. Spend that few Euro extra on the better hostel, or on the better room.  I heard many a tale of the bad hostel experience, but I loved every single hostel I stayed in.  I never chose the 13-bed coed room, always choosing an all-female room if available and limiting the capacity to 6 beds.  True, I spent more than my friends, but it’s nice to be able to fall asleep when you need to, and it’s nice not to have 7 people in line ahead of you for the shower/bathroom in the morning.  For the most part, hostelworld.com was accurate when it came to the popularity ratings and “favorites,” and I found the recommendations to be extremely helpful as well.

4. Not every day is going to be wonderful/magical/mind-blowing, and don’t expect it to be this way.  I had some bad days.  The legendary tour guide at Chartres wouldn’t give me a tour even after I offered to pay him.  One day, I dropped my phone in the toilet and it almost died.  Towards the end, it was actually stolen.  I got sick.  It poured on my last day in Rome, and I walked 45 minutes in the rain to try to find the Via Appia, and I soaked my clothes through before hailing a cab.  Just remember that nothing is perfect, and that in a 6-week span (or however long your trip is) there are going to be crappy moments, situations, and climates.

5. Test yourself.  It’s cool to be able to say, I climbed that tower and saw that panoramic view, or something like that.  When I tried my luck at the European Parliament in Strasbourg and succeeded, I felt really great about myself.  A trek around Europe isn’t nearly as fun if you don’t take risks.

6. Always try to make friends.  I wouldn’t have gone on that gondola tour in Venice if I hadn’t met people at my hostel, and in Berlin I met a friend of a friend and saw her again in Amsterdam.  Everyone has a story, and it’s nice to not eat alone all the time.

I think I’ll leave it at that.  The only thing I really learned about myself pertains to #1, in that I am a very ambitious and driven person and thought I could go to 7 countries and G-d knows how many cities in just 42 days, and I learned the hard way (i.e. by wasting a few hundred bucks) that I am not superhuman.

Let me end by saying that this was the most intense experience of my life so far, and I’m not sure that anything can top it in terms of that.  I saw a ton of amazing art, really immersed myself in the French language, lived like a Parisian, tried out couchsurfing, and learned a lot about European cultures and histories.  I discovered that I have an interest in architecture and that I’m good at talking my way into things.  It truly was “the trip of a lifetime,” and I cannot wait to go back to explore Spain, Portugal, the rest of France, etc.  I will always have the travel bug, my version of the sweet tooth that cannot be sated.  But I’m also happy to be back home in Jerusalem, and plan to spend more weekends away so I can travel around Israel.  The Great European Adventure, which totaled 4 separate trips and a cumulative 54 (I think) days, is over, but this globetrotter is already planning ahead for her next epic journey.