it's been almost four months. 16 countries (ok, including a few hours in monaca, a few hours in slovakia, and driving a few hours through lithuania). probably more than 30 cities. I took who knows how many trams, buses, metros, trains. I took 4 flights total. I don't want to know how much i spent. I carried 10kg of weight with me, which was a little too much, i realized i could do with 7. all these numbers remind me of a blindman's description to what a horse is. One would feel its ass and say "it's smooth and rounded", one would touch the teeth and say "it's sharp and rigit", one would touch the tail and say "it's nice and hairy". they are all correct, of course, but none really understands what a horse is. it's a gestalt thing, you see. similarly, though not the perfect analogy, these numbers tell about my journey, but don't convey the overall gestaltish experience. It was great. maybe because i made no preplanning, so had no plan to diverge from. or maybe just cosmic karma stuff. or maybe it's my grandfather watching over me, as my mother always says. there is a time for journeys and a time for home. a time for work and a time for leisure. sometimes they are intertwined, sometimes they are seperate.
I had a great time, and I am ready for the next chapter.
Another issue relates to identity. Seeing many people living their lives in different ways and styles, speaking a dozen languages and living in different worlds, made me realize how close we all are. We are different, but not THAT different. Quite obviously, we all want the same basic things.
I also realized my little country is not bad at all. While many countries have many things to offer, my tiny little Israel doesn't fall behind. We have been struggling for quite a while on being recognized in the hearts of people around the world, and I think we're there.
My trip also made me quite optimistic about politics as well. All of a sudden, it seems inevitable to me that things will be ok. I strongly feel we can all live together here, whatever country and whatever religion, in a country that has a historic link as a home to the jewish people, but other than that a totally country of all its citizens, a country where my prime minister can pray 5 times a day if he wanted to, and my mayor could go to church on sundays.
Also, I realized I kindda like blogging every now and then.
so, who knows, maybe i'll keep doing that.
Cheers, and thanks to everyone that has been reading.
Friday, November 14, 2008
The EuroIsraelis and the AsioItalianos
it's funny how you can pick up a country's state of mind through its public transportation. while in some countries people don't sit next to each other, in others the tram is the perfect place to beg for money, in others ticket conductors swarm the stations, and in others you can easily go without paying. in some countries (or should i say cities?) the stations are beautiful and well-decorated, while in others more functional.
In Milano i got pushed all over the place. I had to fight my way into the tram, and again as i got out of it. the ride was loud and alive. on one of the trains i took, a group of scouts got on with a guitar and sang a popular song softly. within a few minutes the whole cabin was singing.
I am not saying in israel people spontaneously start chirping the latest hits on the bus, but somehow it felt as close as it gets to israel. nice and warm (no wool hat in the winters), alive and tasty. or maybe i'm just missing home too much?
Italian is a beautiful language. My friend has excellent english, but whenever she is excited over something, whether seeing something very beautiful (que belle [i'm sure i have spelling mistakes here) or whether something bad happnes (a variety of italian words can easily come here), she can't help but say it in italian. and frankly, i wish i could too.
Italy is incredibly rich. In arts and literature, in food, in philosophy, in really cool cars, in a great weather, in the mediterrenean (a gift in itself), and with a temper. the spanish call it savor. i guess i have to visit there as well.
to contrast italy with france, I would say that every french fart is magnified and displayed as a work of art, while the average italian doesn't seem to make such a big deal of his huge, enormous country and culture. they just don't seem to live in the past all that much, you know?
five days in italy was clearly not enough. there is toscana, rome (of course), sicily, and of course the south of the boot.
I will be back Italia, beware.
peace and out.
In Milano i got pushed all over the place. I had to fight my way into the tram, and again as i got out of it. the ride was loud and alive. on one of the trains i took, a group of scouts got on with a guitar and sang a popular song softly. within a few minutes the whole cabin was singing.
I am not saying in israel people spontaneously start chirping the latest hits on the bus, but somehow it felt as close as it gets to israel. nice and warm (no wool hat in the winters), alive and tasty. or maybe i'm just missing home too much?
Italian is a beautiful language. My friend has excellent english, but whenever she is excited over something, whether seeing something very beautiful (que belle [i'm sure i have spelling mistakes here) or whether something bad happnes (a variety of italian words can easily come here), she can't help but say it in italian. and frankly, i wish i could too.
Italy is incredibly rich. In arts and literature, in food, in philosophy, in really cool cars, in a great weather, in the mediterrenean (a gift in itself), and with a temper. the spanish call it savor. i guess i have to visit there as well.
to contrast italy with france, I would say that every french fart is magnified and displayed as a work of art, while the average italian doesn't seem to make such a big deal of his huge, enormous country and culture. they just don't seem to live in the past all that much, you know?
five days in italy was clearly not enough. there is toscana, rome (of course), sicily, and of course the south of the boot.
I will be back Italia, beware.
peace and out.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
mediterrenean beauty
the sound of waves in marseille reminds me of home. indeed, i haven't heard the Mediterranean for more than 3 months, and now it's like music to my ears. It's funny what things make us feel at home, sometimes things we aren't even aware of, like a distant taste, touch, smell or touch. and in my case, it was this music.
I was very lucky.
I have a great family here. We have no common DNA, as far as i know, but with knowing my mother for more than 60 years - you can call that family.
Marseille is as Mediterranean as france can get. there is something about this sea that makes you a little different, though i can't quite point it out. maybe it's the sun on your face, or the constant sound of waves.
we are a coutnry in our own, all of us Mediterraneans.
I was very lucky.
I have a great family here. We have no common DNA, as far as i know, but with knowing my mother for more than 60 years - you can call that family.
Marseille is as Mediterranean as france can get. there is something about this sea that makes you a little different, though i can't quite point it out. maybe it's the sun on your face, or the constant sound of waves.
we are a coutnry in our own, all of us Mediterraneans.
some more murmurs
I arrived at the train station, going from paris to marseille. this is a railway that connects the number one city with the number two city. this is a super fast train, which makes it a main lines of transportation.
there is only one language on my ticket.
there is only one language on the signs pointing to the train.
the conductors speak only one language..
the announcements made on the train during the ride are made in only one language.
here i put a sentence but i chose to delete it as children may be reading this.
there is only one language on my ticket.
there is only one language on the signs pointing to the train.
the conductors speak only one language..
the announcements made on the train during the ride are made in only one language.
here i put a sentence but i chose to delete it as children may be reading this.
The loneliest country in the world
not including friends i made such as Tibeaut and Jerome, and making terrible generalizations, because i am coming from a country that is totally devoid of problems and the people are just perfect, it seems that they are not realizing that they are just another language, and just another culture. instead, the feeling is that they are THE culture and THE language. It is not clear how they are raised with such a blunt delusional disorder, but it may be in the fois gras. cynicism aside, it's true that this place is rich with all those things that make us human. this is indeed a small super-power on this planet, i only wish they took themselves less seriously. I wonder if they realize how much this alienates them from the rest of the world. It seems that many French don't really have a second language (whatever language). They only have french, with their frenchy television and frenchy movies and books. That is great, but in this time of history – it's simply not enough.
ENGLISH is the NUMBER ONE LANGUAGE on this planet. It is spoken by 1.8 billion people, more than any other language (including chinese. google it). SPEAKING ENGLISH DOES NOT MEAN LOSING YOUR IDENTITY, and they seem to be stuck somewhere in first grade of their emotional development, not realizing that.
It seems that there is a belief that some day, pretty-soon-but-not-really-sure-when, when the US will go down, the whole world is going to start talking french. Well, this deserves a news flash – even if china is going to be the next super-power on this planet, and even if the EU itself will be the next one – french will NEVER be a number one spoken language. Ok, enough of that. I'm going to go have some delicious french food.
ENGLISH is the NUMBER ONE LANGUAGE on this planet. It is spoken by 1.8 billion people, more than any other language (including chinese. google it). SPEAKING ENGLISH DOES NOT MEAN LOSING YOUR IDENTITY, and they seem to be stuck somewhere in first grade of their emotional development, not realizing that.
It seems that there is a belief that some day, pretty-soon-but-not-really-sure-when, when the US will go down, the whole world is going to start talking french. Well, this deserves a news flash – even if china is going to be the next super-power on this planet, and even if the EU itself will be the next one – french will NEVER be a number one spoken language. Ok, enough of that. I'm going to go have some delicious french food.
The city of style
ok, so i haven't posted anything here for a while, but i did scribble a few things on my laptop, so here it is:
it's hard for me to hate the french. i know, it's quite in on occasion, like having an iPhone, but i just can't.
I am sitting in a big park near the louvre watching a gigantic man screaming out commands on a group of 7 year old kids. it's a gym lesson. Why stay in school when you can train in the park? Style.
The food, of course, does not require introduction. It seems that every aspect of the culinary experience - bread, meat, cheese, wine, fish, vegetables - has been perfected and being practiced. "But le quialite is not what it used to", tells me a friend who has been living here all his life. Well, for me, le qualite is still quite good, and I have eaten a lot of things here for the first time, including fois gras. I probably won't have anymore in the near future, but it was worth a shot. and the duck (tastier that goose liver) was dead anyways.
i'm wondering how it's going to be in the land of the francs. we'll see, i guess
it's hard for me to hate the french. i know, it's quite in on occasion, like having an iPhone, but i just can't.
I am sitting in a big park near the louvre watching a gigantic man screaming out commands on a group of 7 year old kids. it's a gym lesson. Why stay in school when you can train in the park? Style.
The food, of course, does not require introduction. It seems that every aspect of the culinary experience - bread, meat, cheese, wine, fish, vegetables - has been perfected and being practiced. "But le quialite is not what it used to", tells me a friend who has been living here all his life. Well, for me, le qualite is still quite good, and I have eaten a lot of things here for the first time, including fois gras. I probably won't have anymore in the near future, but it was worth a shot. and the duck (tastier that goose liver) was dead anyways.
i'm wondering how it's going to be in the land of the francs. we'll see, i guess
Sunday, October 19, 2008
the luggage mafia
Getting off the plane with tired eyes, trying to figure what time it is, I am heading to the fearful zone of the luggage carusel. Will I get lucky today? Will I get my suitcase within a reasonable amount of time? Who knows. The karusel starts spinning, like the roulette of life, and i'm hoping, hoping the next bullet is for me.
no.
the next one?
no.
waiting.
Who are those people who are the first to get their bag out? Did it ever happen to you? Or to you? Are they free masons? Mossad agents? Is there a tip box for the porters i'm not aware of? Perhaps I should slip a fifty Euro bill with my passport at check in. once, for once in my lifetime I want the sun to shine on me, and to get my bag first. Or at least second. Well, tenth would also be ok.
Thirty minutes after, my bag is slowly peeking out the dragon's lair.
Perhaps next time. Who knows.
no.
the next one?
no.
waiting.
Who are those people who are the first to get their bag out? Did it ever happen to you? Or to you? Are they free masons? Mossad agents? Is there a tip box for the porters i'm not aware of? Perhaps I should slip a fifty Euro bill with my passport at check in. once, for once in my lifetime I want the sun to shine on me, and to get my bag first. Or at least second. Well, tenth would also be ok.
Thirty minutes after, my bag is slowly peeking out the dragon's lair.
Perhaps next time. Who knows.
reflections with no title
Sitting on a chair in an empty airport at 5 am, watching the tired cleaners sweep the floor with their little trucks, a ground stewardess arriving to work, and counting a total of 15 people in the whole hangar, makes me think it doesn't get lonelier than this. I am leaving Bergen today, thus concluding my journey into the uncharted (my uncharted) territories of Scandinavia and Finland. I still have some time to go around Europe, but already I feel the trip is coming to an end. I haven't done everything I wanted, The north still awaits me (or rather, I'm awaiting the north), but that just means there will be another trip. It's been a good one. Who knows what the future holds. Life is indeed a sugar cane, and I am part of it.
complaining again
I have to unwind a little (again) about damn scandinavia and their damn food. Why does orange juice have to taste like rubber tires, and the lettuce in my sandwich sandy and old? Why can't they make a decent pizza, or just a proper steak, for that matter? Why do they agree to being fed shit-like “kebabs” with pathetic vegetables and ridiculous, disgusting sauces? And on top of that, why does it cost so damn much? I made kuskus to my friends the other day – one celery, a pack of carrots, one onion, one parsley bundle, one zukini, one small cauliflower – 90 krowns, about 65 shekels. Are they f$%^ insane?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
beauty beauty all around part 2
I can't get enough of this so I am writing another entry. I just saw a river playing around the rocks as if they were grass. It formed a strange kind of maze, in the “can you help johnny get out of here” style. I couldn't help johnny. Between two mountain a snowy peak is peaking, just for a quick hello as the train passes by. I swear somebody is playing games here. Two clouds decided to float right next to my window, joining the ride for a few seconds, until we entered to a tunnel. And then we came out again. And another tunnel. Pick-a-boo. In the distance the clouds are moving opposite the train. Or is the train moving opposite the clouds? Some parts are shining with the light of a thousand suns, some are shady and then shining again. A small lake is seen on top of a mountain. Did it use to be snow? Tiny waterfalls decorate the slope of a brown-green mountain, choosing their own path, ignoring the rocky grounds. I just saw a new shade of blue in a tiny lake just across my window. Another violent waterfall is across the next mountain. And another snowy peak.
I have two more hours to go. I wonder if I would have had enough by then.
I have two more hours to go. I wonder if I would have had enough by then.
beauty beauty all around
It's hard not to believe in god after this train to Bergen. I read bits of a book yesterday by some rabbi, suggesting that standing in awe in front of nature is just one expression of believing in god. If this is true, I am putting on a shtreimel right now. I am sitting here looking out the window, and I don't think I have ever seen so much beauty in such a short time. Some rocks are green. Why the hell are they green? And I'm not cold. So why is there snow on the mountains? And what is a Forrest doing next to a river, next to a mountain, and a step away from the clouds? What is this place? Now there are yellow rocks. Why yellow? Some mountains disappear in the mist, which is becoming sky, and is probably going straight to heaven. What are we doing here?
the full half of the world
Dumpster diving is the act of diving in the dumpster for things other people considered useless and using them. It is also a philosophy, saying there is way too much waste in this full half of the world, whereas in the other hungry half even our waste is luxury. It is also the concept of why waste? bad karma. I heard of this aroudn my travels in Europe, and somehow always related that to homeless people biting on a piece of half-eaten sandwich or taking some torn shirt nobody else wanted. I was pretty surprised with what I found.
I went with a guy I met in oslo to a dumpster just behind a small supermarket. It was just one dumpster, and it contained three big black plastic bags. Body bags, you know.
When we opened them a treasure was revealed - approximately 10 kilograms of lamb steak that was 1 day old, 20 bags of coacoa that are 6 months before due date, a couple of pineapples in pretty good shape, kilograms of flour, microwave meals that are 1-2 days old, cheese, milk, juices, apples - hell, it was a minimarket in its own.
I was amazed at the amounts of food in that little dumpster, in that little minimarket, in that little part of town. What's going on in the bigger supermarkets? in all of Oslo? in all of norway? in all of western Europe? I figured a few thousands of people will die of hunger today. I figured those kilograms of meat, wheat, drinks and fruits could probably feed them all, just for today. and what about tomorrow? tomorrow is just another dumpster day.
"Norway is pretty strict about out dated food", said my friend, "so it's pretty safe to eat these foods even a few days after expiration". I think so too.
I went with a guy I met in oslo to a dumpster just behind a small supermarket. It was just one dumpster, and it contained three big black plastic bags. Body bags, you know.
When we opened them a treasure was revealed - approximately 10 kilograms of lamb steak that was 1 day old, 20 bags of coacoa that are 6 months before due date, a couple of pineapples in pretty good shape, kilograms of flour, microwave meals that are 1-2 days old, cheese, milk, juices, apples - hell, it was a minimarket in its own.
I was amazed at the amounts of food in that little dumpster, in that little minimarket, in that little part of town. What's going on in the bigger supermarkets? in all of Oslo? in all of norway? in all of western Europe? I figured a few thousands of people will die of hunger today. I figured those kilograms of meat, wheat, drinks and fruits could probably feed them all, just for today. and what about tomorrow? tomorrow is just another dumpster day.
"Norway is pretty strict about out dated food", said my friend, "so it's pretty safe to eat these foods even a few days after expiration". I think so too.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
planet beverly hills
oslo is a small city, only about 600000 people. the streets are fairly narrow, and not much cars go around the city. there are beggars in the street talking a language i don't understand, and most of the time you don't hear norwegian in the streets downtown.
the biggest immigrants here are...
swedish.
who would have thought there is anywhere to go from sweden?
but the wages here are very high, as well as prices (ridiculous!) and taxes.
"financial crisis?", said a norwegian friend, "what is that?"
"it's something immigrants have", i tried to explain.
going a bit outside of the city you will find forrests and lakes, mountains and hills. even the crows are good looking.
there is something bubbly about this place. it's can't really make it on its own. norwegians don't wait on tables, sell in the supermarket or clean the streets. i'm not really sure what they do, but i will find out.
the biggest immigrants here are...
swedish.
who would have thought there is anywhere to go from sweden?
but the wages here are very high, as well as prices (ridiculous!) and taxes.
"financial crisis?", said a norwegian friend, "what is that?"
"it's something immigrants have", i tried to explain.
going a bit outside of the city you will find forrests and lakes, mountains and hills. even the crows are good looking.
there is something bubbly about this place. it's can't really make it on its own. norwegians don't wait on tables, sell in the supermarket or clean the streets. i'm not really sure what they do, but i will find out.
once upon a time there was a poor country
norway was a poor country 50 years ago. "second only to andora", a friend said.
then the americans came, looking for oil and, wow, did they find it alright.
the norwegians learned the job pretty quickly, and after a few years showed the americans the door, and are enjoying their oil to this day.
that, pretty much, sums of the story of modern norway, a cold and breathtakingly beautiful country up there in the north.
then the americans came, looking for oil and, wow, did they find it alright.
the norwegians learned the job pretty quickly, and after a few years showed the americans the door, and are enjoying their oil to this day.
that, pretty much, sums of the story of modern norway, a cold and breathtakingly beautiful country up there in the north.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
kusiot al ofanaim
ok, so after getting over my fears i did some scientific research about danish byciclists, as they're everywhere and somebody has to do something about it.
I counted 100 cyclists, and managed to divide them in the following groups:
10 men
90 women, out of which:
50 extremely good looking
20 quite good looking
15 somewhat good looking
5 look like a patient, though might have been good looking around the time of napoleon.
everybody is thin, which is guess is what you get when you cycle all day.
this is just too ridiculous.
I counted 100 cyclists, and managed to divide them in the following groups:
10 men
90 women, out of which:
50 extremely good looking
20 quite good looking
15 somewhat good looking
5 look like a patient, though might have been good looking around the time of napoleon.
everybody is thin, which is guess is what you get when you cycle all day.
this is just too ridiculous.
scary movie
they will come to you from behind, when you least expect them.
they will scratch your car if you piss them off.
they are the kings and queens of the road, and their reign is unshakable.
they are *drums drums drums*
the bicyclists.
welcome to copenhagen, the city of bicyclers. everything else doesn't really count, unless you're a minority, and then you might get the time of day, but only if you've suffered a lot (or can fake it).
bicycles outnumber cars, and i think people as well. parents drive their bicycles carrying their babies in a special bicycle cabin.
there are roads and traffic lights dedicated to bicyclers, and if you cross over to their side you just put your faith in the lord, and may I say even he has standards for salvation, and i'm not sure he'll be willing to take up against them.
so, my best advice to all you people coming to copenhagen - if you can't beat them, why not join them.
get on a bicycle, and enjoy this lovely city. it's flat (the highest point in denmark is 147 meters, i'm told), it's not too big, and it's very convenient to drive around.
so go for it!
they will scratch your car if you piss them off.
they are the kings and queens of the road, and their reign is unshakable.
they are *drums drums drums*
the bicyclists.
welcome to copenhagen, the city of bicyclers. everything else doesn't really count, unless you're a minority, and then you might get the time of day, but only if you've suffered a lot (or can fake it).
bicycles outnumber cars, and i think people as well. parents drive their bicycles carrying their babies in a special bicycle cabin.
there are roads and traffic lights dedicated to bicyclers, and if you cross over to their side you just put your faith in the lord, and may I say even he has standards for salvation, and i'm not sure he'll be willing to take up against them.
so, my best advice to all you people coming to copenhagen - if you can't beat them, why not join them.
get on a bicycle, and enjoy this lovely city. it's flat (the highest point in denmark is 147 meters, i'm told), it's not too big, and it's very convenient to drive around.
so go for it!
hookers with style (or no style, depending how you look at it)
i'm kind of used to seeing people in uniform. for example, in the hospital everybody has a uniform. the docs do, the nurses do. the ED nurses do, as well as the guys doing the cleaning. and then, business people have a suit and tie, that's kind of a uniform as well, and so do subway drivers etc.
this is why you might not expect me to be surprised when i walked downtown berlin one night at 3 am and found many women standing around, looking pretty much the same - long white boots, long, straight white-to-blonde hair, ridiculously thin waist, and of course, a pouch of money (and condoms, I was told). a pink jacket or skirt is common, though not obligatory.
for a second there i thought i am in the middle of shooting a madonna clip, but then realized this is a workers neighbourhood, if-you-know-what-i-mean.
I guess it makes things easier, you spot the employee of your choosing, and then... i'm not sure... do you have to pay for insurance as well? do they make you sign some forms? that wouldn't be too fair, when you're drunk (a popular target population).
this is why you might not expect me to be surprised when i walked downtown berlin one night at 3 am and found many women standing around, looking pretty much the same - long white boots, long, straight white-to-blonde hair, ridiculously thin waist, and of course, a pouch of money (and condoms, I was told). a pink jacket or skirt is common, though not obligatory.
for a second there i thought i am in the middle of shooting a madonna clip, but then realized this is a workers neighbourhood, if-you-know-what-i-mean.
I guess it makes things easier, you spot the employee of your choosing, and then... i'm not sure... do you have to pay for insurance as well? do they make you sign some forms? that wouldn't be too fair, when you're drunk (a popular target population).
Friday, September 26, 2008
downtown holocaust
The germans are still thinking about the holocaust. One might say they don't have a choice, as they keep being reminded of it, but it also seems like a personal journey. One might think a massive holocaust monument existed here for the last 50 years, but actually if was finished only about 3 years ago. For twenty years before that they were debating on how to put it together. Above other things, this feels to me like a german need to put that thing up .
And I kind of like it. Fields of concrete. Rectangular, in all sizes and shapes. Some more than 4 meters long, some just a few centimeters. A place to get lost in.
and there is an underground bunker, of course.
The bunker contains the real explosives – a walk through exhibition of used-to-be-living-jews. I found it quite impressive. And not worn or boring. Very accurate. Every room tells a story in a different way – from the history by historians, to notes written by victims themselves, to the family room where the history of a few families is discussed, to a dark room naming all the names of the victims (yes, it will take a long time to go over it).
it's kind of funny to see tourists walking around the concrete walls, some playing hide and seek, some posing in a funny way. i'm not sure that's what they intended, but i don't mind so much.
a more personal an intimate are the bronze pebbles you can find all across berlin. "her lived chanah goldman, born 1902, deported 1942, died 1943". that style of thing, written in small plaques on the road, next to houses that used to be inhabited by jews.
And I kind of like it. Fields of concrete. Rectangular, in all sizes and shapes. Some more than 4 meters long, some just a few centimeters. A place to get lost in.
and there is an underground bunker, of course.
The bunker contains the real explosives – a walk through exhibition of used-to-be-living-jews. I found it quite impressive. And not worn or boring. Very accurate. Every room tells a story in a different way – from the history by historians, to notes written by victims themselves, to the family room where the history of a few families is discussed, to a dark room naming all the names of the victims (yes, it will take a long time to go over it).
it's kind of funny to see tourists walking around the concrete walls, some playing hide and seek, some posing in a funny way. i'm not sure that's what they intended, but i don't mind so much.
a more personal an intimate are the bronze pebbles you can find all across berlin. "her lived chanah goldman, born 1902, deported 1942, died 1943". that style of thing, written in small plaques on the road, next to houses that used to be inhabited by jews.
berlin 1
Berlin is my favorite city so far. I haven't been doing much other than the usual pub, walk around, get lost, ask for directions, get lost again etc., but still I am have lots of fun. Berliners are FRIENDLY. “sure”, commented one of my german friends, “nobody here is from berlin”. While that may be, I have never had so many people asking me where i'm from, what i'm doing here, where do I need to go, and one old lady even gave me a suspicious smile and saying something about having an extra cardboard for me.
Monday, September 15, 2008
germans in germany and nudists in the park
i arrived to munich late at night, and tried to enjoy this city for a couple of days.
it was hard, but i think i managed it, somehow.
as i was told before, this is a rich city, in a rich state (bavaria), with a lot of people dat ar vorking all ze time. a BMW factory is around that place, as well as other big industries.
so indeed, people are quite busy. and haf to vork.
but when zey are not vorking, they can be nice. and friendly, to an extent.
so after getting this impression, you might understand why I was very surprised to sit in the park one day, and seeing a man, just a bit far ahead, showing... ahm, more skin than usual.
thinking that it is an optical illusion, or perhaps it's the sun, i went on with my reading, as yet another woman passed by, with a very nice bathing suit, WHICH SHE WAS HOLDING IN HER HAND. ahm.
as i looked around me, I realized I am in either a mass production of a porno movie, or, simply, in the middle of a nudist colony.
the place is called the English park, a lovely, huge park, where lots of people like to hang out. in a particular spot it is quite common to take of your clothes and bath in the sun, and apprarently that's exactly where i chose to sit.
for those of you who are wondering, the age average of those lovely nudists was about 60.
it was hard, but i think i managed it, somehow.
as i was told before, this is a rich city, in a rich state (bavaria), with a lot of people dat ar vorking all ze time. a BMW factory is around that place, as well as other big industries.
so indeed, people are quite busy. and haf to vork.
but when zey are not vorking, they can be nice. and friendly, to an extent.
so after getting this impression, you might understand why I was very surprised to sit in the park one day, and seeing a man, just a bit far ahead, showing... ahm, more skin than usual.
thinking that it is an optical illusion, or perhaps it's the sun, i went on with my reading, as yet another woman passed by, with a very nice bathing suit, WHICH SHE WAS HOLDING IN HER HAND. ahm.
as i looked around me, I realized I am in either a mass production of a porno movie, or, simply, in the middle of a nudist colony.
the place is called the English park, a lovely, huge park, where lots of people like to hang out. in a particular spot it is quite common to take of your clothes and bath in the sun, and apprarently that's exactly where i chose to sit.
for those of you who are wondering, the age average of those lovely nudists was about 60.
a cultural hub
the people of vienna are heavy consumers of art. they talk about it, they need it, they do it. everybody plays something. everybody has a taste. talking about a piano concerto might very well come up in a daily conversation, so be warned!
art exhibitions are all over the place too. you can see it in posters from every corner, including a few israeli ones.
in that sense, not much has changed from the times of mozart, beethoven and schubert.
art exhibitions are all over the place too. you can see it in posters from every corner, including a few israeli ones.
in that sense, not much has changed from the times of mozart, beethoven and schubert.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
the city of benches
so ok, vienna is beautiful. And the parliament and the museum, and statues, and art. And fairly clean. And very cultural. But what strikes me the most about this city is the number of benches.
vienese just love to have a seat. I don't have any other explanation to the thousands of benches that are spread around the city. I once went into a small park and started counting – go tired at 50.
vienese also love lying down, which is an advanced version of having a seat. How else could you explain beach chairs in outside coffee shops, or just in the university garden? They also have tons of those big monsterous purple thingies that, let's face it, are a little ugly, but damn they're comfortable. At first they look like an environmental statue of bad taste, but then you lie on these mamas and it actually feels soft. No wonder they are always packed and it's not that easy to get one of them. Now there's a startup idea for the mayor of tel aviv.
vienese just love to have a seat. I don't have any other explanation to the thousands of benches that are spread around the city. I once went into a small park and started counting – go tired at 50.
vienese also love lying down, which is an advanced version of having a seat. How else could you explain beach chairs in outside coffee shops, or just in the university garden? They also have tons of those big monsterous purple thingies that, let's face it, are a little ugly, but damn they're comfortable. At first they look like an environmental statue of bad taste, but then you lie on these mamas and it actually feels soft. No wonder they are always packed and it's not that easy to get one of them. Now there's a startup idea for the mayor of tel aviv.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
a silly pun
i had yet another fine meal in the pub. working on my laptop, as usual.
I called the waiter and said "check?"
he looked at me and said "yes", but kept looking at me an not moving.
"check", i said
and he said "yes, check"
it kept going for a few times, until i realized - he thought i was asking him if he is czech.
i don't even know why I am posting this, it was too stupid even for this blog.
but oh well.
I am tired
I called the waiter and said "check?"
he looked at me and said "yes", but kept looking at me an not moving.
"check", i said
and he said "yes, check"
it kept going for a few times, until i realized - he thought i was asking him if he is czech.
i don't even know why I am posting this, it was too stupid even for this blog.
but oh well.
I am tired
Monday, September 1, 2008
more on prague.
praguians can't stand me.
it's not personal at all, it's just that i am a tourist. and as such, i am stealing their town away. it is a well known fact that you can hardly hear czech in the center of town. and prices are so expensive there anyway.
being one of the most visited cities in the world, but much smaller than it's colleagues like london or paris, the tourist attack is felt very well. especially now, in the summer.
they are still nice though, but just don't like us tourists that much.
i can't really blame them.
i actually like them quite a bit.
they are diverse. and enjoy hanging out. and in love with their dogs, which go everywehre with them, including the restaurant, the pub, and even (i saw it myself) the bathroom. the bartender wouldn't really mind giving a bowl of water (or vodka?) to a tired doggie.
and they have millions of tiny pubs. they are absolutely everywhere. just spit, and wherever it lands you will find five. and you can do everything here. you can study. you can eat lunch. you can have beer. provided, of course, that the thick cigarette (or cigar, or other things) smoke doesn't bother you.
I thought it is a metaphor when i was told that beer is cheaper than water. but it's not. half a litter of beer in the local pub is a little under 1 euro. try to find bottled water for that price in a restaurant.
haven't seen many drunken czechs so far, which is also very encouraging.
so, i think i will stick around for a couple more days.
off to vienna next, most probably.
it's not personal at all, it's just that i am a tourist. and as such, i am stealing their town away. it is a well known fact that you can hardly hear czech in the center of town. and prices are so expensive there anyway.
being one of the most visited cities in the world, but much smaller than it's colleagues like london or paris, the tourist attack is felt very well. especially now, in the summer.
they are still nice though, but just don't like us tourists that much.
i can't really blame them.
i actually like them quite a bit.
they are diverse. and enjoy hanging out. and in love with their dogs, which go everywehre with them, including the restaurant, the pub, and even (i saw it myself) the bathroom. the bartender wouldn't really mind giving a bowl of water (or vodka?) to a tired doggie.
and they have millions of tiny pubs. they are absolutely everywhere. just spit, and wherever it lands you will find five. and you can do everything here. you can study. you can eat lunch. you can have beer. provided, of course, that the thick cigarette (or cigar, or other things) smoke doesn't bother you.
I thought it is a metaphor when i was told that beer is cheaper than water. but it's not. half a litter of beer in the local pub is a little under 1 euro. try to find bottled water for that price in a restaurant.
haven't seen many drunken czechs so far, which is also very encouraging.
so, i think i will stick around for a couple more days.
off to vienna next, most probably.
beauty in (almost) every corner
a bus, a train, and a sleepless night away, prague is here.
It has really become cliche to say that prague is beautiful.
but prague is beautiful.
my favorite thing is the fact that wherever you turn your head in the street, something nice and interesting will look back at you. it can be a small statue sticking out of a wall. it can be a door knob. a park. the river. spiders weaving beautiful webs. a modern architecture statement. a church. a square. a pavement. whoever made this town was a freak of esthetics, and he has it going.
It has really become cliche to say that prague is beautiful.
but prague is beautiful.
my favorite thing is the fact that wherever you turn your head in the street, something nice and interesting will look back at you. it can be a small statue sticking out of a wall. it can be a door knob. a park. the river. spiders weaving beautiful webs. a modern architecture statement. a church. a square. a pavement. whoever made this town was a freak of esthetics, and he has it going.
Krakow is, indeed, good looking like a 15 year old girl heading on a night out in town. Tourists are all over the place, as well as ridiculously stuffed pigeons playing soccer with pieces of bread thrown by the former. There are castles and churches and monks, and a couple of nazi crosses, but not too many.
We stayed a couple of days in the jewish area. it is, indeed, very nice. the tourists are coming. to enter a synagogue you usually pay 8 zloty, around 2 euros. i don't believe in ghosts, but they are there.
there is a presence in that part of town. it is screaming from the synagogues and the streets and the hebrew letters on occasional houses.
and i want to get out of here.
We stayed a couple of days in the jewish area. it is, indeed, very nice. the tourists are coming. to enter a synagogue you usually pay 8 zloty, around 2 euros. i don't believe in ghosts, but they are there.
there is a presence in that part of town. it is screaming from the synagogues and the streets and the hebrew letters on occasional houses.
and i want to get out of here.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
on the rail track
I am on a train now from warsaw. I don't know if it's the same railroad my brothers were on 65 years ago, but it sure feels like it. The train is very old, at least 30 years, or maybe more? The bathroom is dirty. My brothers didn't have a bathroom, I think. I am heading to Krakow. I've been told that “krakow is great”, and “very beautiful”, and “you should really visit auchwitz”. I am positive they only meant good, but the contrast is still there. I am actually a little afraid. I didn't plan to do that. In fact, I kind of came to poland by accident anyway. I am actually on a scandinavia-western Europe kind of trip. How did I get here?
Warsaw - lo ma shechashavta
Thinking of poland makes me think about aunties with ridiculously large breasts, gefilte fish, plumbers (for some reason) and the holocaust. I was also expecting the floors to shine due to massive sponja.
I was quite surprised, I must say.
I found a city that was alive and kicking. People are out all the time, coffee shops and restaurants are packed, and there is quite a lot to see. Warsaw's old town is actually a new town. The Nazis made a point of going into every building and blowing it up. It was beautifully reconstructed old style, and that area is now a pleasure to walk around in.
Zloty is the name of the currency, which is my second favorite name after the EEK , the estonian Krown. I met many nice and warm Warsawians. One guy found us staring at a map, looking a bit lost. I asked him how to get to the railway station. He just said "follow me", and walked in front of us for 15 minutes. he then pointed at the station "it's here", turned around, and walked back. very strange, but curtious. but strange.
I also met a lovely bunch of warsawians that I actually got to know. They were lovely guides and hosts to the city, always with time on their hands, always eager to make your stay pleasant. The waiters didn't insist I finish off the plate, btw, which was quite comforting.
In short, Warsaw is a city to come back to. despite the past, and all the terrible things, I have a feeling people now just want to have a good life, like everyone else. I suspect Coca Cola is stronger than the church, and that's not all bad.
Dziekuje to all my warsawian friends.
I was quite surprised, I must say.
I found a city that was alive and kicking. People are out all the time, coffee shops and restaurants are packed, and there is quite a lot to see. Warsaw's old town is actually a new town. The Nazis made a point of going into every building and blowing it up. It was beautifully reconstructed old style, and that area is now a pleasure to walk around in.
Zloty is the name of the currency, which is my second favorite name after the EEK , the estonian Krown. I met many nice and warm Warsawians. One guy found us staring at a map, looking a bit lost. I asked him how to get to the railway station. He just said "follow me", and walked in front of us for 15 minutes. he then pointed at the station "it's here", turned around, and walked back. very strange, but curtious. but strange.
I also met a lovely bunch of warsawians that I actually got to know. They were lovely guides and hosts to the city, always with time on their hands, always eager to make your stay pleasant. The waiters didn't insist I finish off the plate, btw, which was quite comforting.
In short, Warsaw is a city to come back to. despite the past, and all the terrible things, I have a feeling people now just want to have a good life, like everyone else. I suspect Coca Cola is stronger than the church, and that's not all bad.
Dziekuje to all my warsawian friends.
Monday, August 18, 2008
first day at work
estonians and latvians have a common syndrome, which we call "first day at work syndrome".
people everywhere don't really seem to know their job. the hotel receptionist can't recommend anything around here, the waitress is not too sure about what's going on with the menu, and the clerk at the ticket office would really rather you don't come near.
everybody just started working yesterday!
we found that they are not heavily service oriented, and frankly want you to go away already, you pesty tourist.
it seems to be so more in latvia than in estonia.
people everywhere don't really seem to know their job. the hotel receptionist can't recommend anything around here, the waitress is not too sure about what's going on with the menu, and the clerk at the ticket office would really rather you don't come near.
everybody just started working yesterday!
we found that they are not heavily service oriented, and frankly want you to go away already, you pesty tourist.
it seems to be so more in latvia than in estonia.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
estonia is quite tiny - only 1.3 million people, with a third russians. however they seem quite happy to be estonians, and try to maintain estonianism despite russification. after centuries of occupation, in 1991 they are independent again.
that's pretty cool.
their country is about 3 times bigger than israel, which makes it rather thinly populated place, i think.
they developed skype.
and they won the eurovision.
and they have the oldest running pharmacy in the world (i think).
but more than anything else, these people are alive.
Tallinn is alive and kicking even at 1 am, and although it's quite small, the hang out area is compact.
so ok, there are tons of tourists and such, but hey - stockholm and helsinki are also full of tourists.
The main vibe i'm getting is that after decades of being bullied by the russians, occupied by the swedes, and danes, and romans, and what not, they are simply happy to be out and about, dancing to 80s music and what not, being hippy even if it's 40 years late (who cares?), and having a very good economy.
the food, btw, is almost as good as in Israel (but not quite).
go estonia!
that's pretty cool.
their country is about 3 times bigger than israel, which makes it rather thinly populated place, i think.
they developed skype.
and they won the eurovision.
and they have the oldest running pharmacy in the world (i think).
but more than anything else, these people are alive.
Tallinn is alive and kicking even at 1 am, and although it's quite small, the hang out area is compact.
so ok, there are tons of tourists and such, but hey - stockholm and helsinki are also full of tourists.
The main vibe i'm getting is that after decades of being bullied by the russians, occupied by the swedes, and danes, and romans, and what not, they are simply happy to be out and about, dancing to 80s music and what not, being hippy even if it's 40 years late (who cares?), and having a very good economy.
the food, btw, is almost as good as in Israel (but not quite).
go estonia!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
What it's all about
I met two spanish people. the woman was nice, the other guy not talking too much. they kept asking me about Israel's policy of expansionism. I didn't know what she was talking about, explaining her that Israel has only given land in the last 25 years. she was very surprised.
The other guy started talking at some point, and told me that he doesn't understand what the hell we are doing there. "you are an anomaly", he said, "like the apartheid". he is a teacher in madrid and has some administrative job at the madrid educational commity. exactly the right guy to say these things, reminds me of the region maps in the palestinian schools.
He then said that we should let the palestinians have a country and leave them be, because they have been there for centuries.
"where will the jewish people go then?", i asked, "where is my country?"
"you should not have a country", he replied without blinking.
and that, actually, is the heart of the matter.
The guy was being perfectly honest, which i appreciate.
The Jews are a problem, have always been a problem.
It's important to know that there are teachers like that, and politicians like that, even in enlightened europe.
This is yet another reason to be strong and to not be ashamed. they are a fake, it's not about "poor palestinians", it's about "damn Jews".
The other guy started talking at some point, and told me that he doesn't understand what the hell we are doing there. "you are an anomaly", he said, "like the apartheid". he is a teacher in madrid and has some administrative job at the madrid educational commity. exactly the right guy to say these things, reminds me of the region maps in the palestinian schools.
He then said that we should let the palestinians have a country and leave them be, because they have been there for centuries.
"where will the jewish people go then?", i asked, "where is my country?"
"you should not have a country", he replied without blinking.
and that, actually, is the heart of the matter.
The guy was being perfectly honest, which i appreciate.
The Jews are a problem, have always been a problem.
It's important to know that there are teachers like that, and politicians like that, even in enlightened europe.
This is yet another reason to be strong and to not be ashamed. they are a fake, it's not about "poor palestinians", it's about "damn Jews".
Being afraid
The finns are very, very nice. They will help you out on public transportation. they are patient. They don't want to hurt you. The are polite. They are quiet. They are exrtemely law abiding.
They are also, in my opinion, terrified of foreigners. They are not quite sure what to do with them, and it's enough to have dark hair and eyes to be considered an outsider. There has been a lot of muslim immigration here, and accordingly crime and rape rates have gone up (some finnish guy told me that 40% of the rapes are being done by immigrants).
They are not quite sure what to do with all those people. they are just too nice.
so mainly they just sit there and feel a little afraid. they're smiling, but a little afraid.
occasionally you might know what people are really thinking about. for those of you who haven't followed my blog so far, I will say that it is when they are drunk.
One of my friends here hosted two turkish guys the other day. everybody had a few drinks, including the owner who, after a while approached her and told her that she and her foreigners are not welcome here.
she was a small hero, not leaving, and filing a complaint about him to some comity. but it's here, hatred is here as well.
It was Tisha be'av the other day, and I was walking around some forest outside of helsinki. I came across some building with a white wall.
well, not totally white.
A big, black nazi cross decorated its front.
I commented to my friend that "this is nice", and kept walking.
She then informed me that it was probably put there by young kids who don't even know what it means. After wondering about that, we have established that they probably did know what they are doing.
it's here, hatred is here as well.
They are also, in my opinion, terrified of foreigners. They are not quite sure what to do with them, and it's enough to have dark hair and eyes to be considered an outsider. There has been a lot of muslim immigration here, and accordingly crime and rape rates have gone up (some finnish guy told me that 40% of the rapes are being done by immigrants).
They are not quite sure what to do with all those people. they are just too nice.
so mainly they just sit there and feel a little afraid. they're smiling, but a little afraid.
occasionally you might know what people are really thinking about. for those of you who haven't followed my blog so far, I will say that it is when they are drunk.
One of my friends here hosted two turkish guys the other day. everybody had a few drinks, including the owner who, after a while approached her and told her that she and her foreigners are not welcome here.
she was a small hero, not leaving, and filing a complaint about him to some comity. but it's here, hatred is here as well.
It was Tisha be'av the other day, and I was walking around some forest outside of helsinki. I came across some building with a white wall.
well, not totally white.
A big, black nazi cross decorated its front.
I commented to my friend that "this is nice", and kept walking.
She then informed me that it was probably put there by young kids who don't even know what it means. After wondering about that, we have established that they probably did know what they are doing.
it's here, hatred is here as well.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
geeky nords
the finns are heavliy electronical. they love their gadgets and their cellular phones.
you can pick it up already in the street, where you can find WiFi pretty much everywhere.
role playing games are big here as well, and chats are a great way to meetup and keep in touch.
a third of the finns walking around are plugged to their headphones, another third is probably just thinking about the time they will get home and login.
such a lovely bunch.
you can pick it up already in the street, where you can find WiFi pretty much everywhere.
role playing games are big here as well, and chats are a great way to meetup and keep in touch.
a third of the finns walking around are plugged to their headphones, another third is probably just thinking about the time they will get home and login.
such a lovely bunch.
FEED A HUNGRY TRAVELLER
ok, i can't take this anymore. I am going home.
i'm just too hungry!
where is the street food? aren't there any equivalents to falafel or sabich?
give me some decent chicken.
pita im zaatar.....mmm....
a decent shawarma. why does the kebab have to be ready made, wrapped in a plastic bag?
mmmmm salt.
did somebody say a well prepared steak?
a decent salad?
seriously, how do these people handle it?
french fries! just made, dripping with oil.
or a well prepared sandwich? with naknic? (can anyone here NOT eat pork for one day?)
I am really starting to appreciate aroma these days.
ice aroma.
mmmm
burekas? yes, what about that, really? where are those here, and why does everything cost a fortune?
in abulafia you can get pita im zaatar for 5 shekels, and if you go to nahariya it's only 2.5. and sabich is like 12 shekels, i think (or 14?), and a great toast sandwich that will keep you for today and tomorrow is like 18 shekels. come on finns (and swedes, for that matter), eat something!
sadly, the cheapest thing to get around here is a mcdonnalds. and i guess buying at the supermarket, which i think i will start doing.
oh well, just had to unwind a little.
cya
i'm just too hungry!
where is the street food? aren't there any equivalents to falafel or sabich?
give me some decent chicken.
pita im zaatar.....mmm....
a decent shawarma. why does the kebab have to be ready made, wrapped in a plastic bag?
mmmmm salt.
did somebody say a well prepared steak?
a decent salad?
seriously, how do these people handle it?
french fries! just made, dripping with oil.
or a well prepared sandwich? with naknic? (can anyone here NOT eat pork for one day?)
I am really starting to appreciate aroma these days.
ice aroma.
mmmm
burekas? yes, what about that, really? where are those here, and why does everything cost a fortune?
in abulafia you can get pita im zaatar for 5 shekels, and if you go to nahariya it's only 2.5. and sabich is like 12 shekels, i think (or 14?), and a great toast sandwich that will keep you for today and tomorrow is like 18 shekels. come on finns (and swedes, for that matter), eat something!
sadly, the cheapest thing to get around here is a mcdonnalds. and i guess buying at the supermarket, which i think i will start doing.
oh well, just had to unwind a little.
cya
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Hot and heavy in the nordic countries
for all those who think this part of the world is nice and cosy, where everyone just like each other, you are up for a surprise!
Here goes:
The Swedes think the Finns argue too much, and really find their continuous failures at hocky rather amusing.
The Finns say their gay community is immigrating to Sweden, where they are a majority.
The Norwegians are said to be lazy ass workers.
and nobody really knows what the hell the Danish people are talking about (except the people of Malmo, but sweden is dying to get rid of them for a while now, but nobody wants them, not even danish people, who take really anything), with their hot potato speech.
and I haven't been to Norway yet, but i'm sure they have a load of things to teach me about their neighbours as well, so...
hot and heavy in scandinavia.
Almost makes me miss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict
Here goes:
The Swedes think the Finns argue too much, and really find their continuous failures at hocky rather amusing.
The Finns say their gay community is immigrating to Sweden, where they are a majority.
The Norwegians are said to be lazy ass workers.
and nobody really knows what the hell the Danish people are talking about (except the people of Malmo, but sweden is dying to get rid of them for a while now, but nobody wants them, not even danish people, who take really anything), with their hot potato speech.
and I haven't been to Norway yet, but i'm sure they have a load of things to teach me about their neighbours as well, so...
hot and heavy in scandinavia.
Almost makes me miss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict
Disclaimer
recently I've found that a few of my swedish friends are not talking to me. more interestingly, this happend after i sent them a link to my blog.
statistical coincidence? not too sure...
come on guys.
you know i love you.
clearly, i got mixed up. wherever you find the word "Swedish" please change for "Norwegian".
but seriously. i'm a storyteller, that's what i like to do, occasionally.
I would also like to point out that not all Swedes are drunken alcoholics, and for sure are totally sober most of the day.
It should seriously be said that Swedish people are really all around nice and kind. a little shy, but once you get to know them they will open their house and their heart.
jag älskar dig ,
Nadav
statistical coincidence? not too sure...
come on guys.
you know i love you.
clearly, i got mixed up. wherever you find the word "Swedish" please change for "Norwegian".
but seriously. i'm a storyteller, that's what i like to do, occasionally.
I would also like to point out that not all Swedes are drunken alcoholics, and for sure are totally sober most of the day.
It should seriously be said that Swedish people are really all around nice and kind. a little shy, but once you get to know them they will open their house and their heart.
jag älskar dig ,
Nadav
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The pure and the decadent are both fun
the swedish archipelago consists of 14-100 thousand islands, depending on who you ask. as far as i am concerned, just 14 would be cool enough. I spent a few days out there, being a caveman once again. we slept in tents and ate with our hands. we went fishing and gutted, skinned and fried our catch. we logged wood to make a fire. and then there was Jenny, our favorite bathroom in the whole island. it was wonderful. we were in the very beginning of the Baltic sea, in what is called broken water - half salty, half sweet. still good enough to take a shower (which we did), but not good enough to drink. for water, btw, we went to the well, which had this cool manual pumping device that you see in old westerns. it was raining for about half our stay, but we didn't care. wasn't too cold anyway. It is really easy to be a viking in the archipelago. every monday and thursday you can go on a shipping expedition to discover some island, or burn down the huts of your neighbours.
there were four of us - from holland, sweden, the US and Israel, and we got along just nice and dand - shared the food, the tools, and the women. no, just kidding, not the tools. no, just kidding again, not the women. that was a comic pause. ahm. we also shared the pain of mosquitoes, which is no small burden in certain times of the day.
after three days in the islands i was happy to be back in civilization, and yet missed those lovely islands with their picturesque views. and of course, everybody missed jenny, which we left behind.
it's funny, but i am writing all this in a place that is a total contradiction to the simple, primitive life of hunting your food and logging your wood - I am floating in a god-knows-how-many-tons cruise ship on its way to helsinki. the place looks like a busy manhattan street - people everywhere, luxury restaurants, and an entertainment crew which includes an 8 meter tall black dude (well, on crutches), a few acrobatics performers, a jazz singer and a guy that plays the sax (and i suspect doing the jazz singer). there are saunas, pools, and pretty much everything you could think of. there is also a small hospital here. hmm. something to think about. you could hardly notice it's a ship, except for those few times when you feel a very strong tilt to either side, and you are not sure if it's you who drank too much, or if it is actually the boat (or ship? what's the difference anyway?).
I met two finnish women on the ship, and they told me about finnland a little bit. "the world was amazed", she told me, "when we beat the russians twice", referring to that unclear part of history, when a tiny nation beat the damn soviets twice and simply refused to be a russian colony. go finns. that has to say something about their spirit. i will soon find out. I was told that saunas ("only wooden", emphasized one of them) are one of the favorite past times, and that nokia is actually a name of a city in finland. pretty useful.
i am going to stop here.
see you in finland.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
i need my space
personal space is very important to the swedes. you can see it in any place their PS might be challenged. for example outside the ATM there are clear yellow lines giving the swedish cash withdrawer his PS.
you can see it very clearly on the subway where, to my amazement, people would prefer to stay standing rather than sit next to a swede they don't know. for me it's wonderful, since there is always room for me to sit, but still i am always surprised to see more vacant seats than people standing.
the saying goes that a swedish personal space is about 1 meters.
another part of PS is the fact that you don't communicate with your fellow swedes on public transporation. they truly are a strange bunch sometimes. I once almost gave a swedish girl a heart attack when i asked her where i should get off. she was mumbling incoherently and was very uncomfortable. when she got over herself she was very nice and curtious, but before she did she was just being swedish.
another fine example of the so much needed PS would probably be rent. people in sweden don't really share flats with anyone. only recently it has become more common, and only if you have very good references from friends (see "how to hit on swedish girls" to read more about references and their importance), but you would hardly see that a few years ago. people would rather get their own flat, or pay more money, and not share a flat with someone they don't know.
sweden is actually spacey enough already - it's the third largest country in europe, with only 9 million people, but i guess as they say, you can take a swede out of sweden, but you can't take sweden out of the swede.
you can see it very clearly on the subway where, to my amazement, people would prefer to stay standing rather than sit next to a swede they don't know. for me it's wonderful, since there is always room for me to sit, but still i am always surprised to see more vacant seats than people standing.
the saying goes that a swedish personal space is about 1 meters.
another part of PS is the fact that you don't communicate with your fellow swedes on public transporation. they truly are a strange bunch sometimes. I once almost gave a swedish girl a heart attack when i asked her where i should get off. she was mumbling incoherently and was very uncomfortable. when she got over herself she was very nice and curtious, but before she did she was just being swedish.
another fine example of the so much needed PS would probably be rent. people in sweden don't really share flats with anyone. only recently it has become more common, and only if you have very good references from friends (see "how to hit on swedish girls" to read more about references and their importance), but you would hardly see that a few years ago. people would rather get their own flat, or pay more money, and not share a flat with someone they don't know.
sweden is actually spacey enough already - it's the third largest country in europe, with only 9 million people, but i guess as they say, you can take a swede out of sweden, but you can't take sweden out of the swede.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
the swedes are generally a content bunch, aspiring for "lagom" in all aspects of life, meaning not too good, not too bad, not too salty, not too sweet, not too anything, anything but extreme to any pole - just right. the lagomy way of life seems to be working for them quite well.
there is one thing that can really get a swede off balance, however, and that's the fear of getting a ticket, henceforth referred to as "a ticket" or "the ticket". the fear of getting "a ticket" is rooted deeply in the heart of the swedes, and goes hand in hand with their aspiration of lagom. you can get "a ticket" if you drive without your driver's license, and surely we wouldn't want that, and also if you get on the subway without paying, and that could really be disturbing. getting "a ticket" could seriously rock your world, and is probably the israeli equivalent of getting kidnapped by an angry militant muslim mob. sneaking in a club could also get you "a ticket". there are, however, brilliant ways to dodge getting "the ticket" (which is, by the way, give to you by "the police") - when you get "a ticket", "the police" will ask for your details, which you give them, usually without checking your details. you can, therefore, claim that "the ticket" was given to someone else who used your details. very brilliant, very dodgy.
I asked one of my newly acquired friends here, what happens if you simply not pay "the ticket". he thought for a minute, scratched his head, and replied: "i'm not sure, I don't know of anyone who hasn't".
that, ladies and gentleman, is lagom for you.
there is one thing that can really get a swede off balance, however, and that's the fear of getting a ticket, henceforth referred to as "a ticket" or "the ticket". the fear of getting "a ticket" is rooted deeply in the heart of the swedes, and goes hand in hand with their aspiration of lagom. you can get "a ticket" if you drive without your driver's license, and surely we wouldn't want that, and also if you get on the subway without paying, and that could really be disturbing. getting "a ticket" could seriously rock your world, and is probably the israeli equivalent of getting kidnapped by an angry militant muslim mob. sneaking in a club could also get you "a ticket". there are, however, brilliant ways to dodge getting "the ticket" (which is, by the way, give to you by "the police") - when you get "a ticket", "the police" will ask for your details, which you give them, usually without checking your details. you can, therefore, claim that "the ticket" was given to someone else who used your details. very brilliant, very dodgy.
I asked one of my newly acquired friends here, what happens if you simply not pay "the ticket". he thought for a minute, scratched his head, and replied: "i'm not sure, I don't know of anyone who hasn't".
that, ladies and gentleman, is lagom for you.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
how to pick up on a swedish girl
ok, so these are my obersvations and tips in case you want to hit on a swedish girl.
the rules of engagement in the swedish battlefield are quite simple and straightforward:
1. no sober swedish woman would ever agree to date you. this means that the battlefield, clearly, is set by the girl, and that would be - a club. if you can dance, your odds are improved markedly. if you cannot - i would suggest waiting later in the evening before you make a move, when your victim is in advanced stages of intoxication, at which point she doesn't realy care who you are, what is your name, and frankly not even your sexual orientation.
it's amazing to see how wasted they can get.
frankly, i think alcohol is what assures swedish procreation.
2. second (and thanks to my friend daniel for clearing that up), if you happen to actually date a swedish girl, please be advised that the chances of a second date are not far from the average northern-swedish temperature during wintertime, which is to say, close to nil. they are not into commitments, and if you are not highly recommended by a childhood friend (or as mentioned in article 1, arrive when alcohol levels reach critical levels), you will probably not see her again.
just a couple of observations for all you swedish seekers out there
the rules of engagement in the swedish battlefield are quite simple and straightforward:
1. no sober swedish woman would ever agree to date you. this means that the battlefield, clearly, is set by the girl, and that would be - a club. if you can dance, your odds are improved markedly. if you cannot - i would suggest waiting later in the evening before you make a move, when your victim is in advanced stages of intoxication, at which point she doesn't realy care who you are, what is your name, and frankly not even your sexual orientation.
it's amazing to see how wasted they can get.
frankly, i think alcohol is what assures swedish procreation.
2. second (and thanks to my friend daniel for clearing that up), if you happen to actually date a swedish girl, please be advised that the chances of a second date are not far from the average northern-swedish temperature during wintertime, which is to say, close to nil. they are not into commitments, and if you are not highly recommended by a childhood friend (or as mentioned in article 1, arrive when alcohol levels reach critical levels), you will probably not see her again.
just a couple of observations for all you swedish seekers out there
things are much simpler over dinner
I was invited to dinner in the house of susanna's friend. her friend is Iranian, and has been living in sweden for just a few years. Her husaband is iranian as well. His family was there too, including his parents who flew from Iran, as well as a few other siblings.
we had dinner, talked for a bit, had pistachios, and of course had some alcohol.
it was all very... regular and normal.
where's all the drama?
once again, people are people are people.
can I have some more of that rice?
we had dinner, talked for a bit, had pistachios, and of course had some alcohol.
it was all very... regular and normal.
where's all the drama?
once again, people are people are people.
can I have some more of that rice?
Friday, July 25, 2008
where man, god and tourists meet
the uppsala cathedral is one of the more impressive structures i've seen. stretching i-don't-know-how-many-meters long and wide, with all those pointy crossish thingies, gothic styles with all the scary faces, glasses all around and just basically making you feel like an ameba in the face of god. there are people buried in the floors, a creepy concept in itself for a jewish israeli, but hey, we chop off foreskins.
I walked around the enormous halls and stretched my neck to look at the floor. I saw statues and pictures of jesus and stories from the new and old testament. I saw a bunch of kings lying in their tombs, well, their marble versions at least.
there were a few organs there, each bigger than the other.
you can practically see the cathedral from all over town, and it's a good pointer if you ever get lost.
I walked around the enormous halls and stretched my neck to look at the floor. I saw statues and pictures of jesus and stories from the new and old testament. I saw a bunch of kings lying in their tombs, well, their marble versions at least.
there were a few organs there, each bigger than the other.
you can practically see the cathedral from all over town, and it's a good pointer if you ever get lost.
the right place to break your neck
have you ever wondered where are all the disabled and crippled in Israel? you don't really see them walking around. they can't really get on buses. they can't quite get to every government building (yet).
Some claim they have the exact same right as us perfect people to have fun. pfff.
anyway, that's something you notice in Uppsala very quickly.
they are all around.
in wheelchairs, with their caretakers, with their sticks - they are alive, they are around, and they blend in with their fellow people.
kind of neat to live like that, don't you think?
yet another point for sweden.
Some claim they have the exact same right as us perfect people to have fun. pfff.
anyway, that's something you notice in Uppsala very quickly.
they are all around.
in wheelchairs, with their caretakers, with their sticks - they are alive, they are around, and they blend in with their fellow people.
kind of neat to live like that, don't you think?
yet another point for sweden.
keep your mouth shut when walking uppsala at night
they are all over the place.
they are dodgy.
they are small.
they can make your life miserable.
they are flying ants.
they will get in your mouth, they will get under your pants, they will bite your ass.
they are - THE FLYING ANTS.
so, just a word of caution - when you're walking uppsala later in the day - beware of them motherbuggers.
taste buds in pain
I am starting to realize why swedes are so thin - good food is simply hard to come by.
I had salad with two friends in "a great salad place", and we had it by the river with a few ducks feasting in occasionally.
there was some bizarre dressing on top, and a very random mix of things that don't necessarily go together. as my friends were praising that thing, i thought to myself - the sorriest salad in aroma beats this.
the same goes for bread and cheese - i haven't had any decent ones so far.
the interesting thing is, swedes have really great materials to work with. the tomatoes are nice and juicy, the cows eat whatever it is that cows it that is nice and clean in the fresh air, there are amazing fields of wheat all over the place - it's just that process of actually making that into food that they are not great at (well, so far).
I swear, opening an Israeli restaurant around here would be a hit.
I had salad with two friends in "a great salad place", and we had it by the river with a few ducks feasting in occasionally.
there was some bizarre dressing on top, and a very random mix of things that don't necessarily go together. as my friends were praising that thing, i thought to myself - the sorriest salad in aroma beats this.
the same goes for bread and cheese - i haven't had any decent ones so far.
the interesting thing is, swedes have really great materials to work with. the tomatoes are nice and juicy, the cows eat whatever it is that cows it that is nice and clean in the fresh air, there are amazing fields of wheat all over the place - it's just that process of actually making that into food that they are not great at (well, so far).
I swear, opening an Israeli restaurant around here would be a hit.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
10pm sunday downtown Upssala - even the traffic lights to go sleep
It's not easy to find food in Upssala on sunday night. the streets are empty and the swedes are either hung over from saturday or just asleep.
Me and my friend susanna are searching desperately for food. we were about to give up as a "Max" sign shined in the distance.
"who is max?", i asked, wondering if he can give us some food
"you'll soon find out", replied my friend, and with her last strengths dragged me to good old max.
indeed, the one thing you can count on to be open on a sunday night is Max, the swedish version of Mcdonnalds.
You can feel the swedish ambiguity about burgers with the first bite. I mean, how hard is it to make a decent burger? yet, they are too dry, too flat, and magically resemble a shoe sole. I don't think they realy want to eat them anyway.
it does, however, explain why every average swede looks like a gym instructor.
I should take some pictures of dear old Max and put them here.
Me and my friend susanna are searching desperately for food. we were about to give up as a "Max" sign shined in the distance.
"who is max?", i asked, wondering if he can give us some food
"you'll soon find out", replied my friend, and with her last strengths dragged me to good old max.
indeed, the one thing you can count on to be open on a sunday night is Max, the swedish version of Mcdonnalds.
You can feel the swedish ambiguity about burgers with the first bite. I mean, how hard is it to make a decent burger? yet, they are too dry, too flat, and magically resemble a shoe sole. I don't think they realy want to eat them anyway.
it does, however, explain why every average swede looks like a gym instructor.
I should take some pictures of dear old Max and put them here.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
one big bathtub in the middle of stockholm
beaches are not easy to come by in this country. still, there's a reason every swedish person that lands in Israel runs straight to the sea and fries him/herself medium-well in the cancery sun.
therefore i was a little surprised to find a big lake 15 minutes walk from the train station, with the cleanest lake water i've seen so far. I swear, I felt cleaner after going IN the lake than before. Who thought this could even be possible. Seriously, I felt a shower would only make me dirty after a dip in that body of water.
It was a bit chilli, but very refreshing.
my last swim for the year, i guess, unless i get drunk and fall off the deck of a boat (which may still happen, stay tuned).
therefore i was a little surprised to find a big lake 15 minutes walk from the train station, with the cleanest lake water i've seen so far. I swear, I felt cleaner after going IN the lake than before. Who thought this could even be possible. Seriously, I felt a shower would only make me dirty after a dip in that body of water.
It was a bit chilli, but very refreshing.
my last swim for the year, i guess, unless i get drunk and fall off the deck of a boat (which may still happen, stay tuned).
Upsala is very green.
everywhere you look it's grass and trees. A few strange birds.
one of my favorite parts about this town (and parts of Stockholm as well) is that you can never starve to death. there are simply fruit trees everywhere. feel like eating an apple? please, just go ahead and pick one (or two!). cherries? s'il vous plait. Berries? why not.
the pits can just be spit everywhere, it's compost anyway.
This is really cool. and indeed, why not make the trees practical? I guess in Israel someone would soon enough bring a tractor and pick all of them to sell in the market, or something.
yet another point for Sweden.
everywhere you look it's grass and trees. A few strange birds.
one of my favorite parts about this town (and parts of Stockholm as well) is that you can never starve to death. there are simply fruit trees everywhere. feel like eating an apple? please, just go ahead and pick one (or two!). cherries? s'il vous plait. Berries? why not.
the pits can just be spit everywhere, it's compost anyway.
This is really cool. and indeed, why not make the trees practical? I guess in Israel someone would soon enough bring a tractor and pick all of them to sell in the market, or something.
yet another point for Sweden.
Krona is NOT a type of mexican beer
Sometimes it best to check things before just going at it. Not a necessity, but it can spare you the awkwardness of paying for your bus ticket with Euros, in a country that uses Kronas. I actually did know that, but somehow was sure Euros are generally good enough. The very kind lady at the information center said it’s true, but the rate is not so great.
Everyone is really helpful so far. I asked a bus driver where my bus is, but he explained with a smile and apology that he doesn’t know. Then the street cleaning guy asked me about the bus number, and as I looked around he pointed me to the now approaching bus… thanks to him I didn’t miss it.
It is 9:30 at night right now, and there is still enough light to power on my mom’s solar scale. And believe me, after 7 pm in our house there’s nothing you can do about it. How can these people sleep? I will soon find out. Seriously, it’s not like “it’s getting dark”, or that the street lights are on. There’s just damn light! Some people, and I won’t name names, sometimes go to sleep at these hours.Incredible!
Everyone is really helpful so far. I asked a bus driver where my bus is, but he explained with a smile and apology that he doesn’t know. Then the street cleaning guy asked me about the bus number, and as I looked around he pointed me to the now approaching bus… thanks to him I didn’t miss it.
It is 9:30 at night right now, and there is still enough light to power on my mom’s solar scale. And believe me, after 7 pm in our house there’s nothing you can do about it. How can these people sleep? I will soon find out. Seriously, it’s not like “it’s getting dark”, or that the street lights are on. There’s just damn light! Some people, and I won’t name names, sometimes go to sleep at these hours.Incredible!
in the beginning, there was an immigration officer
I decided to stop for a moment and start this blog. Perseverance is no a rule with me, so not sure how long this will last. But oh well, just like tax deduction, I will enjoy it as long as it lasts.
I took this first stop at the Arlanda airport. I am in the middle of a busy terminal, and I can hear my heart beating. I even got to know some new voices in my head. There are a couple of seats marked “for handicapped persons”. No one is sitting there. I noticed two things that immediately made me realize I am not home.
The first was at the passport control. There was an EU line and a regular line. The regular line was busy, the EU one empty. The immigration officer at the EU line was just starting in space, when a couple approached him. They were not EU. After a few seconds of trying to explain that it’s not his job to do this, he accepted them. Do you realize what this means for an Israeli? Doing EXTRA work for no particular reason? No way Jose (or Moses).
Anyway, just a couple of thoughts on my first landing in Sweden. So far (and that is from the air and from the walk towards the Terminal [See a poor photograph I took]), it is the greenest place I’ve seen.
And Yellow.
I never saw so many yellow people in one place. Hell, I didn’t know there were so many VARIATIONS of yellow in this world. It’s like the 400 brand of wheat, or something.
One thing is pissing me off, though.
No free Wi Fi at the airport. Is this supposed to be an advanced country, or what?
Ok, enough of this for now.
Off to the bus stop.
Cheers
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