Dad's Family

I've managed to stay away from politics for the last few days, occupied myself with trying my hardest to figure out how everyone I'm seeing here is related to everyone in the US. These days (Sunday till Thursday) I'm staying with my father's cousin Lala. These family members have nothing really to do with my project since the grandfather I am writing about is my mother's father, but this side's story is just as fascinating. Lala is the only family member we keep in touch with here in Israel that doesn't speak Russian - it's ok though because she speaks Romanian, English, Hebrew, German, and Yiddish. She was born in Bucharest, to where her parents moved after WWI (they were from Chelyabinsk and Kishinev), and then moved to Vienna in the early 60s. The Jewish Agency was helping them get to Israel, and when they stopped in Vienna on the way there her father ran away from the Agency to stay in Vienna. Her father had grown up speaking German (not sure where) and so he was comfortable in Vienna.

Lala is passionately devoted to keeping distant relatives in touch, which I can't say is true for other members of my dad's family (probably because there are two brothers, my dad and my uncle, and it is my feeling that the men in my family are less committed to such things). My grandpa Yasha (who died in 1994) had two full siblings and three half-siblings. The half-sibling part of the family I knew nothing about and I met his only remaining half sister yesterday when Lala invited that whole side of the family (most are in Israel) to dinner. Surpringly, Lala hadn't seen them for a few years either, even though they all live in Israel. Meeting Sima, Lala's mother and grandpa Yasha's half-sister, was fascinating but also very sad. She's 93 years and has serious dementia and I have never before interacted with anyone in such a state. She would break down in a cry-laugh every few words, and after I'd go through something with her once (like who I was in relation to her, or how my family was doing, or what I was doing in Israel, or how long I was here) she'd ask the same exact question just a second later after any short silence or change of topic. She was convinced my father was my grandfather and no matter how many times I'd correct her (and she'd admit that she got them mixed up) she'd go right back to talking about how difficult it must be fore my parents to have come to a new country so late in their lives (my parents came when they were in their early 20s) and assumed that they were long retired (thinking they were my grandparents). Lala later told me that Sima sometimes reverts back to her childhood talking about how she has to go home and take care of her little brothers and sisters (one of which was my grandfather). Strangest of all was that she corrected my every Russian word and insisted that I spoke in perfect grammar and pronunciation. This all made it even more difficult to have any semblance of a conversation. It's really strange how all other mental faculties remain as short term memory goes. She told me how she speaks 5 languages absolutely perfectly, grammar and pronunciation (she worked as a Romanian-Russian translator for Soviet railways). Later in the evening when I said goodbye in Russian she looked at me surprised and asked if I spoke Russian, as if I had never talked to her at all (we talked for an hour or so before dinner). It made me think about how difficult my interviews with elderly will be, and also made me think about how much I really don't want to get old.

Hamas Wins and They're blaming me

Seriously, people are being militant. My relatives are all blaming America and the democrat-liberals whom it is harboring. Today I sat at dinner with my mom's cousin, Faya, and her husband and I was angrily talked at by the quite militant husband for about 30 minutes before I finally had enough of it and said something. For some reason all of the Russians in Israel think the country is too "democratic," influenced by America, where people are way too free to blow themselves up and others. I was told today that not all people can be trusted with democracy - not everyone is smart enough or advanced enough to handle the responsibility. Upon my suggestion that maybe we should be asking why the Palestinians feel that blowing themselves up is a viable option, I was barked at by the militant husband who insisted I was being fed lies by the American media. Ironic isn't it that we both agree on that point. He also told me that American intellectuals from prestigious universities were denying the Holocaust. Would someone please let me in on this, damn it!?

Later, I pointed out to Faya that I didn't feel Israel was a democracy either, but a religious state, and that the two are mutually exclusive. (This, my Israeli cousin Michal agreed with last night, saying that Israel is doomed from that start in its mission for a Jewish democracy.) I told Faya (in the absence of her less calm husband) that I'd never live in a country that allowed only religious marriages (no such thing as civil marriages here) between men and women of the same religion. She told me that the Russian immigrants have been pushing for less religion, more liberal social reform, and that she agreed with me that it was unfair for the government to meddle in one's private life in that way. So, too democratic or not democratic enough? I really think they have no idea what democracy is all about.

Attempting Israel

Nothing too exciting is happening to me yet in Israel. This is good, I think. Very good. Yesterday Michal, my second cousin once-removed (or something like that) took me to this Arab falafel and hummus place where I had the best falafel balls dipped in hummus I've had in my life. For those of you who know me well, you realize how much this means to me. I dream falafel and hummus.

Most interesting so far have been the conversations I've been having with Michal about Israeli-Palestinian politics. Michal works as the (press?) secretary for a representative in the Knesset, so is always listenning to all sorts of news and always has an opinion. I'm trying to understand just a bit how my generation views the situation here, and yesterday I got to listen to her interact with her best friend about the upcoming elections. It seems that the generational split between Michal and her more conservative Russian parents is similar to the one that separates my (and my brother's) views from those of my parents. Michal's father speaks of the "Israeli democracy" in quotation marks, explaining that they are just too easy on agressors, "Arabs" and criminals. Michal's views are appreciably left of center for Israel, though I wouldn't say so on the American spectrum. She sympathizes with the Palestinians, but at the same time has problems with them being designated as a "nation" per se, and though her and her friend agreed that settlement in the territories was illegal and wrong, they don't actually believe that it is plausible (or right) to de-settle all the areas on the other side of the green line (pre-1967 borders).

Something I hadn't really thought about was America's influence on Israeli policy. I know that Israel would not exist without US monetary aid, and that we practically fund their military, but I just (I guess quite nievely) didn't realize the extent to which this money is contingent on what Israel does. Now that I think about it, it makes sense that Israelis are less willing to do things like withdraw from the territories, and that America puts pressure on them to do so. This is just the most obvious example that Michal gave me. Interestingly, when I suggested that Israel was wrong in invading and settling land, something that the international community strongly disagrees with, they right away mentioned not only the US in Iraq, but US commercial influence abroad and globalization as equivalent to settlement. So, it's clear that America right now is being viewed as hypocritical.

Most importantly, Michal and her friend were extremely open to dialogue and very intersted in what Americans felt. They also seemed to think that dialogue between Palestinians and Israelis has recently become more of an option. This, at least, is promising.

Soliciting Travel Music

I've decided to bring along my IPod. It did well today in a battery performance test and I am rewarding it and myself. Here's a photo of the baby in its pajamas.

I am now taking suggestions for music to download/copy from you to keep me company in Eastern Europe.

Crowds and context

It's been busy. I have been doing a lot of calling (Israel, Canada, Moldova, Ukraine, Russia, Germany etc. ) and also waiting a lot for calls back (regarding contacts for places to stay and volunteer). I've been buying lots of things (super compact towel, thermal underwear, airline tickets, souvenir bribes, jeans etc). Clearly this is all not very exciting for you fans.

Yesterday I visited the dreaded Russian Consulate. I will not say that I was not warned. All in all, my experience was not so bad. When I arrived there was a huge line down 91st street waiting to enter the consulate; apparently it was pension-pick-up day. Waiting in line were the ugliest, meanest, most bad-tempered old Russian people - those who are still citizens of Russia. They were packed up close like sardines, the ones at the very front with their noses touching the wood door at the grand entrance to the consulate. They were staring at the door, most refusing even to talk to eachother. (Incidently, the door to the consulate was fit for a palace - twice as big as a regular door in width and height, not at all fitting in with the modest upper-east side stone facade.) Thank God I speak Russian. I talked my way to the front of the line and about half the people supported this move, since I was clearly not waiting for my pension and just needed to find a way in. The other half decided to ignore the fact that I was not a pensioner and yelled about how I was let to the front while the crowd waited in line.

After about 10 minutes of waiting in this nasty crowd the palace door openned and people were let out of the building, but no one was let in. Though this was quite obvious, there was of course a mad pushing towards the door and I was smushed and forced to get quite cozy with the door. I decided I would push my way through the next time people were let out and I took the opportunity about 5 minutes later. Once inside I was free, since there was a separate room right next to the entrance for visa processing and they took my papers with no hassle (not looking closely at them at all). I didn't even have to wait in line , but I did have to wait for this wardon-like dude to come open the door before I could leave the building. In the meantime, I and the people surrounding me in the visa office, were accosted by a probably schizophrenic Russian lady who kept yelling about how no one was courteous enough to hold the door open for her. Keep in mind, there was no way someone was going to be holding doors here. This was more of a pushing, knocking, and moshing environment.

Also, New Years was amazing. I spent it with Matt and some friends at Jorian's (or his parents') beautiful apartment on Central Park South. We watched the fireworks and the midnight run from his balcony and laughed at the hoards of people crowded onto the street (those tourists, we guessed, who couldn't get through to Times Square). They were watching a big screen of Times Square set up on Central Park South. The police presence was ridiculous - some friends couldn't get up to the aparment and got stuck in the crowd.