What’s In a Street Name

Much like in the U.S. most cities here seem to have the same set of street names. This is what happens in a young country in love with its founding mythology, I suppose. So, there’s Ben Gurion, Herzl, Jabotinsky, Olei Zion etc.

This extends to Arab neighborhoods too. I can only imagine how galling it must be for a Palestinian to live on Olei Zion or Ben Gurion.

On a side note, it is amusing to see many of the same street names here as in Berlin — the only city outside Israel with a large number of streets named for dead Jewish thinkers. Heine, Rabin and Ben Gurion come to mind.

Farewell to Berlin. Hello Tel Aviv

So, I’ve arrived in Israel. Flying from Berlin, over central Europe I’ve got to say: Damn it’s flat. Just fields all the way from Berlin to Bulgaria basically. Talk about West Asian steppe.

When I got off the plane the 60-ish man who had been sitting one seat down from me on the flight asked me where I was from. “Sweden,” I said. “Sweden? no, no, no! Hair not blonde.”

I’ve had this conversation in many varied forms before, good to know it never fails. Actually, never had it in Berlin this time. Not sure if they

A.) Just assumed I was American. B.) Are too P.C. to ask.

My taxi driver was a friendly Buhkaran Jew from Tasjkent. He didn’t speak much English and I speak virtually no Hebrew, but that didn’t stop us from yammering away all the way in to Tel Aviv.

I usually don’t initiate conversations with taxi drivers. It can be a bit of a crapshot, more often than not you find yourself fending off questions about your love life. This guy was 100% appropriate. I learned he had three kids, got to see a cellphone pic of his newborn son and learned that he had family in Queens, NYC (holla!) and Phoenix, Arizona. Also he once drove a tank in Gaza and used to be a photographer in Uzbekistan.

I didn’t want to pigeon hole him and talk about Queens, sheep roasts and diamonds. He had no such qualms. He talked diamond merchants and Lev Leviev with great pride. Also, he waxed poetic about the fine culture of Ukraine, Uzbekistan and other FSRs.

View from our Tel Aviv window. (Click for more pics on my Flickr page.)

Narcissism in Tel Aviv Bedroom:

Our Tel Aviv Bedroom:

One last pic from Berlin (me and my Berliner Weisse)

Turkey Day Redux

Last night, after a rather long and somewhat mentally taxing interview I watched the last half of the Turkey – Croatia game in Neukölln. Neukölln, for those unfamiliar with Berlin geopolitics is a highly Turkish neigborhood. Quite a thriller, this game, 0-0 until the last 2 minutes of overtime when Croatia first scored a goal and then Turkey another. Turkey won in the end. Cue shooting into the air, rampant fireworks and Turkish flags everywhere.

We went to Kottbusser Tor/ Oranien Platz to watch the celebrations. There was sort of a benign riot/ street festival atmosphere that carried on into the early hours of the morning. Next week Turkey plays Germany, I’m a bit bummed I won’t be in Kreuzberg to witness the atmosphere.

After loitering for a good hour and a half we did some bar-hopping. Last stop Roses and cocktails that tasted like strawberry jam diluted in vodka. I think Roses may be my new favorite bar.

Again I left my camera at home.

Tonight, onward to Tel Aviv!

German Glossary

One great thing about traveling to Berlin is that I get to learn new and useful German words. Last time I was here, 3 years ago the take-home word was “ausländischer Mitbürger.”

This time too, I learned some new words:

Burgerpüppchen

Notgeile

Blümchensex

But Wha-ay?

Questions after visiting the Jewish Museum (in no particular order):

- Why were several, presumably Bavarian, high-schoolers wearing dirndls and lederhosen on their visit to the museum?

- Why does the cafeteria go to the trouble of being “kosher style,” but not certified kosher, or even plain old vegetarian?

- Are the refugees from Germany to Israel in the 1930s among the exiles commemorated in the “Garden of Exiles?”

- Is Amos Elon’s book title “The Pity of It All” really an appropriate way to sum up 2000 years of German-Jewish history?

- The Mendelssohn-Bartholdys aside: Why is a Christmas tree part of the exhibition?

Art in the void:

Wienukkah rules:

Adventures in Languages I Don’t Master

I just did an hour long interview in German. A language that I — god help me — speak at a dumb 5-year-old’s level. Still, it went surprisingly well. In part because the guy I was interviewing was very patient. In part because my limited German helped me stick to the basic why, where, what, when, who questions, and then just shut up and let the other person speak. A useful exercise in minimizing my own blather when interviewing. Perhaps I should do this more often.

So, now that I have my two scheduled Berlin interviews out of the way I think I am going to kick back even more than I have so far. First, a quick jog, then a night on the town.

Lazy Days in Berlin

I spent the last two days just seeing people I know, cycling and wandering around Berlin. My lack of real schedule, for the first time in a long, long time is starting to really sink in. I think I’ve sorely missed it. Berlin is a great city to be leisurely in.

Today, back to reality for a while, I am meeting two of my interview victims this afternoon and need to prepare a little. They do interesting work here so it should be fun.

In the meanwhile, I give you some more photos from my “Summer Travels” Flickr set.

David:

Dupé:

Hella & Siri:

Türk-i-ye! Türk-i-ye!

Last night David and Laura took me to watch the Turkey – Czech game at a Turkish beer garden in Kreuzberg. Borg am See, I believe it was called. At first I was only so-so in to it. I have never been a big sports fan. But mass psychosis soon had me standing on the bench screaming Türk-i-ye! Türk-i-ye! with the rest of them. That and the fact that Turkey got back from almost losing 0-2, then made 3 goals in rapid succession toward the end. As soon as the game was over people streamed to their cars and commenced speeding and flag-waving through the streets until the riot police came out in full force.

First I was tempted to find a Turkish flag of my own. Then, after an hour or so I’d had it up to here with the nationalism and the giant posters of Kemal Atatürk. I was tempted to start shouting “PKK! Ödzalan!” and “Free Kurdistan” or something along those lines. Probably good that I didn’t.

Unfortunately I left my camera at home. This slide show in the Berliner Zeitung pretty much captures what the streets looked like.

Berlin Baby

So, I spent a few days in Lund and did the interviews I hoped to do there. I also spent some quality time with the mom and the sister. Very nice.

Today, I’ve reached the third leg of my journey, Berlin. I’m writing this from my friend David’s living room on Gneisenau Straße in Kreuzberg. This is the view from here:

(Click the photo for more pics on my Flickr set.)

I took the night train from Malmö to Berlin last night. “Liegevagen” that is six bunks in a small cabin. Not bad actually, but not great either.

This is what Malmö Central Station looked like while I was waiting for the train — not unlike the header, no?

My cabin mates turned out to be a single guy, plus a family with two kids about 10 years old. Exactly the company I had hoped for. They were pretty quiet and didn’t talk much.

When I got on the train in Malmö everyone seemed to be wearing football jerseys (that’s “soccer” to you Americans) and have Swedish flags painted on their faces, including the family in my cabin. I asked them if they were on their way to a game. Turns out they were just going to visit an aunt in the Czech Republic. Also, today I found out Sweden lost their last game so not sure what all the face paint was about.

Guy from neighboring cabin in a football jersey (surreptitious shot from the hip.)

About 4 hours of the journey was spent in the train aboard a boat from Trelleborg (Sweden) to Sassnitz (Germany).

This was a bit of a low point. You can imagine what the non-air-conditioned cabin smelled and felt like after a few hours of six people sleeping it in it. I had the top bunk. At one point I went up on deck for a breather.

A view of Sweden from the boat:

I arrived at the Central Station in Berlin just before 6 a.m. which was a little rough. I managed to stay awake long enough to make it to Kreuzberg where I woke David’s sister up at the crack of dawn to let me in. Once there I slept for a few hours. It was divine.

Berlin too is awash in flags, Deutsch and Turkish, which I assume is because of the European Football Championships.