The final few days of our trip were spent in Tel Aviv. Whereas Jerusalem is a city steeped in — some might say unhealthily obsessed with — ancient history, Tel Aviv prides itself on being modern and forward thinking. The reality doesn't always live up to Tel Aviv's aspirations, but in my opinion one of the quickest ways to experience the complexities of Israel is to spend time in both Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. One example: the influence of the ultra-Orthodox in Jerusalem is so strong that it is difficult to find a Jewish-owned restaurant that does not strictly follow the laws of kashrut (keeping kosher). In Tel Aviv, the challenge is to find a restaurant that IS strictly kosher!
Our explorations of Tel Aviv began with a walk through Neve Zedek, one of the original neighborhoods of the city, followed by a moving visit to Elifelet: Citizens for Refugee Children, a center which serves the children of Eritrean Christian asylum seekers in Israel. The challenges these people face will sound tragically familiar; they fled persecution in their country and sought asylum, but hardships forced them to cross the border illegally and they still have no legal status. Here is one recent story about this migrant community.
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Neve Zedek, glimpse of house courtyard |
Another old Tel Aviv doorway |
Whimsical house front |
We spent the better part of another morning at the Israeli Museum at the Yitzhak Rabin Center, which presents the story of Rabin's life within the context of Israel's history and events in the wider world. Later that day, we went on a walking tour to look at examples of the creative graffiti to be found in the Florentine neighborhood of Tel Aviv. This public art sends clear messages about the general tolerance of people in this very liberal city. We ended the day with a study session with the scholar Rachel Korazim.
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Sunset on the shore, looking toward Old Jaffa |
Tel Aviv graffiti |
Combined Arabic/Hebrew script: Shukraan/Todah (Thank you) |
Throughout this trip, our group read and discussed poetry (Hebrew in English translation), including several pieces by Yehudah Amichai. Poems, for me, can express emotional truths that the mere recitations of historical dates or demographic statistics cannot. And if you want to begin to understand Israel, its neighbors, their interactions, and their effect on the rest of the world, you have to wrestle with emotions as well as facts and figures.
I encountered this poem at the Yitzak Rabin Center. I'll let it speak for itself.
From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the spring.
The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.
But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
where the ruined
house once stood.
The Place Where we are Right — by Yehuda Amichai
