Sunday, February 24, 2013

Home is where Purim is

Today is the Jewish holiday of Purim, where we celebrate our deliverance from a decree of genocide given against the Jews of Persia (Iran) by the evil Haman, the viceroy of King Xerxes of Persia (known in Hebrew as Ahashverosh and in Persian as Hashayarsha Jamshid). This holiday has a special meaning for me because I am Persian, and my dad comes from Iran. My dad recalled the many times he visited the tombs of Mordechai and Esther, the heros of the story, who are buried in Hamedan and I always grew up knowing that I had a special connection to my heritage.

Purim is celebrated in many ways. First off, I like to call it a Jewish Masquerade. We dress up in costumes, joyously drink alcohol (the die hards follow the commandment to get so drunk you don't know the difference between good and evil), read the Book of Esther, sing songs, and pass out gifts and sweets, all in remembrance and celebration of our triumph over evil.

This year, I have been given the privaledge of speaking to so many wonderful people in order to share my story as a former IDF soldier and my personal triumph over evil. We've been traveling around the south and I knew that I would be away from home. Vida, our coordinator, assured me that we would be attending a Purim celebration and I couldn't wait for a new experience.

We set out right after Shabbat ended and made our way to the town of Watertown, Tennessee. It was in the middle of a pastoral setting, with a spacious landscape and homes scattered here and there. We finally arrived at our destination- the LAMB Fellowship. Let me tell you- these people were amazing.

Osama Bin Haman and I
A bright and cheery congregation greeted us warmly, dressed in costume (including Osama bin Haman!) graciously welcomed us as we together continued to elevate the sanctity of the day. The sanctuary was beautifully adorned with tapestries recalling the 12 tribes of Israel, all majestically woven by members of the community. The congregation prayed in Hebrew and helped me connect to the Godliness in each and every one of them.

I got up and spoke, and at the end of our stories, the congregation came together to bless us. 100 people gathered 'round close and I closed my eyes. Shepherd Scott led a beautiful prayer for our safety, wellbeing, and a host of other goodness that seems like a blur of light to me now. Someone had their hand on me, and I just stood there, absorbing the electricity and awesome power of the crowd. My whole body was tingling with the energy of his prayer, and for those moments, I felt that as a Jew, I was serving as a vessel of light and Godliness to the community. I was so moved that when he finished,  I had no words, just song and offering my praise. I grabbed the microphone and sang the following:


I  would like to offer my own personal prayer for the people of the LAMB community:

Dear G-d, as I travel the south, I have experienced so many people who have felt your presence in ways I never knew existed. My eyes have been opened to see those who have come to understand your truth, which is breaking through and touching the lives of so many. As the congregants of LAMB continue to come together to sanctify your holidays and offer their prayers in the language of our forefathers, please continue to inspire them, grant them mercy and compassion, and bring them bounty as they continue to serve as a beacon of light to their community. Amen.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Blazing the Trail in Texas


This week I began my speaking tour of the Southern United States with StandWithUs. Here you can find more information on my tour: Israel Soldiers Stories. I will be blogging my experiences every day or two as I tour around, meet new people, and share my story. This is the first part of my journey as we started our tour through The Lone Star State. 


As I drove south along the stretch of the I-45, I realized I was in a very different place. Endless plains of flat land seem to stretch for miles and the occasional ranch providee a nostalgic view of cattle as they grazed- I worked in a Dairy Farm at Kibbutz Ein Harod in Northern Israel after my army service. As we round one of the bends, I saw an enormous 60 foot sculpture standing tall among the trees. Must be Sam Houston, I thought to myself. 
Speaking in Houston

Welcome to Texas, where everything is big. I'd never been to Texas before, and my mind kept replaying the scene in the movie "North" (starring Elijah Wood) where he ended up in Texas at a huge house, with huge people, and a huge smorgesbord of BBQ after running away from his parents. The next time I saw cattle grazing I just couldn't take my mind off of, well,  lunch.

Our first stop on the tour was this past Sunday, February 17th. The Jewish Community of Houston was hosting a "Yom Limmud", or 'learning day' for the entire community. 1,200 Jewish people gathered at Beth Israel congregation for an intensive day of studying and strengthening their identities as Jews. Orit and I were scheduled to speak to three groups- two adult groups and one teen group.

I'd never shared my story with total strangers before, and I was excited for my first speaking event. Well let me tell you- it just flowed. My words somehow wove themselves into a beautiful canopy of emotions, experiences, and love. I felt myself embracing my crowd, and I felt their love in return. I offered the crowd dates that I brought from Israel, which added an extra level of sweetness to our experience together. 

During the question and answer time, the topic that drew the most attention was the introduction of a draft for the Haredim (ultra-Orthodox) into the military. The community was very well versed in Israeli politics and was following developments closely as the Israeli government forms its coalitions. At that moment, everything I felt about the Diaspora was confirmed: Israel belongs to the Jewish people, and we have a mutual responsibility for one another. We wrapped up our speaking events in Houston and drove north to Dallas, where we were scheduled to speak to young Jews at the  Moishe House (MoHo) in Dallas the following day. 


MoHo Dallas Photo: Jason Leach
Dallas is a cosmopolitan city, often dubbed by its residents as the "Liberal Pocket" of Texas. All I needed was a Whole Foods to confirm and I was ready for business.  We went for lunch and was joined by Vida's Filipino family (Vida's my awesome handler with StandWithUs), Vida's friends, and a friend of mine for lunch at Cindis- a New York Style Deli. A hot pastrami sandwich later and I was in heaven. The lunch discussions included the usual "How did you get to the army? What did you do? Why did you decide to move to Israel?" It was an intriguing discussion and we invited our guests to join us in the evening. We wrapped up and prepared for our event at MoHo.

MoHo was awesome. 30 young Jews took time out of their lives to come hear Orit and I speak about our experiences in the IDF. One of the big challenges the Jewish community in the US faces is how to involve the young generation in connecting with Israel. I was so honored that I had the opportunity to have an evening to share my story and talk to my American counterparts about Israel and their concerns. In the question and answer session, a girl said "I'm Jewish, but I'm not really involved in Israel nor do I keep up with it. I don't have time to read four newspapers a day, so what can I do to stay updated?".

I asked her what her passion was, and she said "Low-income families, poverty, and bringing people out of it". I told her about the Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel and the community gardens that they foster in low income communities throughout Israel. This wonderful initiative gives local at-risk youth and residents a worthy cause to rally around, and forms bonds in the community that never before existed. 
Community Garden in Beer Sheva, Israel
I continued on to share with the rest of the group that there are thousands of NGO's in Israel that operate on the very same issues in society that they are passionate about. If you are reading this and find yourself in the same boat, I'll say the same to you now: Define your passion and look for a parallel organization in Israel. Become involved with that organization-  follow them on Facebook, sign up for their newsletter, donate to a project, or regularly visit their website.

Days one and two of my tour drove home the importance of the Jewish community coming together, educating eachother, and sharing in the mutual responsibility that we all have towards eachother and the State of Israel. 


Days three and four saw included events at McNeese State University in Lake Charles, LA and with Aggies for Palestine at Texas A & M. Stay tuned for those posts, which will come over the next couple days. 

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Sometimes it's better to speak out....

This week I began my speaking tour of the Southern United States with StandWithUs. Here you can find more information on my tour: Israel Soldiers Stories. I will be blogging my experiences every day as I tour around, meet new people, and share my story. This is where I begin. 


I grew up in a world where people are different. I was taught to see the differences between people, and difference was the first wall that was built around me. 
I didn't know much when I was little, but I knew as a Jewish kid we didn't have Christmas- we had Chanukah.  Whenever there was a birthday party, I couldn't have the Pepperoni Pizza- plain Cheese for me.

As if being Jewish didn't set me apart enough, my Dad grew up in Iran, which meant that half of my family was Iranian, and I grew up at family events with 100s of family members, Persian music, and a culture that set me apart. I always embraced my Iranian (Persian) identity, and felt at times that I was a foreigner living in a foreign land. My dad told us of our history- how we lived in the land of Israel 2500 years ago, and that we were exiled to Babylon after the destruction of the First Temple in 536 BCE. He said our family just kept walking and settled in modern day Iran- Shiraz, to be exact.I'd never been to Israel, and even though I knew I had family there, I never really felt a connection.

I went to school at the University of Arizona in Tucson. I was so excited to begin a new chapter of my life. I had great classes, a great roommate, family that cared about me, friends I loved, and a perfect balance between my Judaism, Persian Heritage, and American Surroundings.
I became a leader of the Reform Jewish community on my campus and was active in the Iranian American Student's Association. I was a liaison and a bridge of understanding between the multifaceted groups around me, and my innocence and naiveté never prepared me for the harsh reality I had to face when I experienced my first anti-Israel demonstration on campus.

There was a student group on campus called Refuse and Resist. They were an anarchist group that protested everything under the sun, including Israel. Things started to go too far when they sponsored an anti-Israel event in conjunction with the African Studies Department. They screened a film on the security fence, and afterwards a community member gave a talk about the Jews and delegitimized the Jewish people’s right to self determination.
I was disgusted. I couldn’t believe something like that was allowed to happen ON campus, and let alone be sponsored by a tax-funded university department. After the lecture, a girl named Megan, who was one of my Reform Students, came up to me and said “Drew, that was awful, I’m ashamed to be Jewish right now”. That statement changed my life forever.  

This American Jewish student who had never been to Israel was being held responsible for accused actions of Israeli Soldiers. She can't vote in the Israeli elections, she's not required to serve into the mandatory IDF draft. She's not a part of Israeli society, she doesn't live there, and she doesn't have the personal experience to defend herself against any accusations. As a result, she was made by others into a representative of Israel and is being held responsible just because she's Jewish.

That also meant that I was being held responsible just because I was Jewish. That was the moment I decided if I was being held responsible for the actions of a people in a foreign country that I had never met, I needed to educate myself, and the best way for me was to become a part of the reality on the ground.

To make a long story short, I embarked on a mission to ensure that events like this would never cause students like Megan to feel ashamed of their Judaism again. With the help of the Judaic Studies Department director, the director of Hillel, and some very intensive research on my part, I discovered that the African Studies department sponsored the Refuse and Resist group, who together worked with the local chapter of the International Solidarity Movement. We brought the issue to the President of the University, and as a result of what turned out to an abuse of state funds, the African Studies department was shut down, the director lost his tenure, and Refuse and Resist withered away and was gone within a year or two.

I continued my studies more intensely and graduated a year early in order to immigrate to Israel with a program called GarinTzabar, which helped young Israelis in America who have to serve and American Jews who choose to immigrate and voluntarily serve have an easier transition in to the IDF.

I arrived with a group of 33 other young people, who were 18 and just finished high school. They never got the chance to go to College with the rest of their friends, because they had no choice but to return and protect their country. I had the luxury of going to college first, because for me, joining the army was a choice. 
I arrived in Israel, this foreign land, and was drafted in December of 2006. I went straight to basic training, like any other Israeli soldier.

I started my service in the IDF Spokesperson’s unit, where I was responsible to taking public inquiries and accompanying IDF soldiers and officers in their interaction with the civilian public. After a year, I felt the desire to transfer to a unit where I could better the lives of Palestinians, and that unit was the Civil Administration.

Originally established in 1967 to govern the Palestinian people before they had their own government, now the main task of the Civil Administration is to serve as coordinating body between the Israeli Government, Israeli Defense Forces, International and Foreign Governmental Organizations, and the Palestinian authority. 
I was sent to the Civil Administration’s District Coordination Liaison in the West Bank city of Hebron.  When I was in Hebron, I met with various international organizations in order to serve as a liaison between them and the IDF. Organizations I worked with included the International Red Cross, various UN agencies, the Temporary International Presence in Hebron and Doctors without Borders.

The International Red Cross is responsible for coordinating prison visits throughout the world. According to International Law, prisoners must be able to be visited by their families. As a result, Israel facilitates this process and arranges the transportation of thousands of Palestinians who wish to visit their family members who have been found guilty of purporting terror and are in prison in Israel for their crimes. 
One of these prisons is called Ketziot, where most of the prisoners are convicted murderers and masterminds of horror who were responsible for countless terror attacks against Jews, Christians, and Muslims in Israel.  

In April of 2008, I attended a meeting with the Red Cross at the southernmost border crossing between Israel and the West Bank. The Red Cross and the IDF were looking at ways to make it easier for Palestinians living in the southern west bank to visit prisons in southern Israel. Throughout the meeting, both sides were tirelessly trying to find ways to open the crossing to busloads of visitors in between the busy schedule of commercial transfers.

Towards the end of the meeting, it was determine that after trying, there just wasn’t enough time in the week to allow additional buses to come through the tiny crossing. 
As my officers and the Red Cross representatives were wrapping up the meeting, I glanced back at my notes and noticed that there were two hours- Tuesday morning at 10 am and Thursday afternoon at 2 pm that we could open up the crossing for busses. No one caught it, and I had to make the quick decision on whether to speak up or let it pass.

The possibility of hundreds of Palestinians to come and visit their murderous family members rested on my shoulders. While we spent the time to figure out a way for the family members of prisoners to visit, Hamas in Gaza didn't even let the Red Cross in to visit Gilad Shalit or even check his medical condition, and they didn't let his family visit him, all of which was in blatant violation of international law. Furthermore, the very same terrorists who came to murder me in basic training could have been in that prison for all I knew. 
Yet still I wanted to do what was right, even though every person sitting in that prison chose to do wrong against me and my fellow Israelis.

I spoke up, and as soon as they realized I was right, they made the decision to open the crossing and try it out. As of today, that is a crossing that is regularly used for prison visitations.
I came to Israel and joined the IDF because I felt I was responsible for Israel's actions. I wanted to see the reality with my own eyes. After my experience, I realized that Israelis and Palestinians live in a completely different reality from what you might think.

Two months ago I was at a political rally for Israel's new party- YeshAtid (There is a future). At the end of the rally a little 12 year old girl got up and spoke to the crowd about how she wants better education, a better future for her family, and for people to be nice to each other. He final words word "and I wait for the day that peace will come". It brought tears to my eyes, hearing the yearning for peace from the mouth of a child who only has hope for a brighter future.
I hope that one day, my future child will tug on my shirt, look up and me and ask "Mom, what was it like before there was peace?"

Saturday, November 3, 2012

A Letter to the Engeldingers

Reuven Rahamim
An Open Letter to the Parents of Andrew Engeldinger

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Engeldinger,

It's been a month and a half since my cousin, Reuven, was brutally murdered by your son at Accent Signage in Minneapolis. Perhaps things have gone back to some semblence of normal out there in Minnesota. You've accepted the fact that your estranged son of 2 years will never come back to you, and the media is focusing on things like Hurricane Sandy and the presidential elections. I'm sorry for your loss.

Here in Israel, I'm living a completely different reality. The trauma that your son inflicted on me is crippling. I can't concentrate at work the way I used to, a day doesn't go by without me imagining the hundred and one ways I would have stopped your son had I known ahead of time what he was planning, and the pain that I feel for the loss of someone so full of compassion is masked by the anger I have towards you both every  waking moment.

Most of the time, I push myself back into the storage closet of my mind so that I can focus on something even more important- his family. His 83 year old mother. His two sisters and brother. His neices and nephews. All completely devastated by the evil that inhabited this world in the form of your son, Andrew Engeldinger.

Yesterday they unveiled the tombstone at Reuven's burial place here in Israel. I couldn't attend because I was with his mother at the hospital, who was rushed there the night before. Every day, she cannot be left alone because she cries. She cries so much it hurts her eyes. She's in pain, and every day I spend with her I see the gaping hole left in her life. I see three siblings, missing their brother. Like a car with a wheel that blew out and still somehow trying to manage along the road of life.

Here in Israel, I read the news and saw the images and videos of the funeral. I read the police reports, and learned of the mental illness your son was suffering from. You told the public how you tried to help him two years ago, but that he refused and cut you off. You said this might be an explanation, but not a justification. Keep telling that to yourself.

From the moment of conception, Andrew was your responsibility until the day you died. Children who are grown are still children. Parents who grow older are still parents. People tell me "you can't force someone into a relationship with you if they don't want it". In my opinion, this doesn't apply to a mother/father-son relationship. The moment you let Andrew go and stopped trying to move the earth to help him was the moment you sealed the fate of your son, of my dear cousin Reuven, and of the 4 other people who were brutally and senselessly murdered.

We can sit here and blame the NRA or blame the government for not having a system in place to stop gun permits from being given to those with a history of mental issues. But that's not where the blame belongs.

Although Reuven is gone, his mother will never stop being his mother. She'll never stop missing him and the days and nights where we comfort her will continue to be many. She never let go of her son- she always encouraged him, loved him, and he gave her the world.

Andrew was your son. You raised him. You let him walk out of your lives two years ago. Now that Andrew is gone, you are forced once again to take up the role of his parents. And now, you're left to pick up his pieces and deal with his mess. No matter how far away your child runs from you, you are always their parent. But I guess you've figured that out by now.

I hope you're able to find peace with yourselves. In the mean time, I'll stay here in Israel and pick up where Reuven left off- taking care of his mother.

I'm sorry I ever had a reason to have to write you this letter.

Drew

Photo: Renee Jones Shneider, Star Tribune

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Trip to Crocodilopolis (Nahal HaTaninim)

Crocodilopolis. Nahal HaTaninim. 
Crocodile Country. Or at least it once was. 
Trip to Crocodilopolis

 Nahal HaTaninim, or the "Crocodile Stream" is a unique historical site nestled between the Ma'agan Michael kibbutz and the Arab Village of Jisr Azarka (def. the blue bridge). 



Nahal Taninim gets its name from the presense of crocodiles in the stream, dating back to Roman times. When I heard that I would get a chance to visit Nahal Taninim, and perhaps see some crocodiles in real life I couldn't wait to go! I asked our awesome tour guide, Uri,  if he would show me where the few remaining crocs lay a few days before my trip, and he said "of course!". 


There were a few legends as to how the crocodiles got there in the first place. In the first legend, there were twin brothers who ruled the ancient city Caesarea. One of the brothers suffered from leprosy and as a result would often have to bathe in the water. His brother, who wished to be the sole ruler, introduced the crocodiles into the river so that he could feed them- with his brother (!) thus leaving him the sole ruler of the land! Apparently he succeeded...
Crocodiles Were Once Part of the Landscape


The ancient name, Crocodilopolis, dating back to Persian and Helenistic periods suggest that crocodiles were present in the river since that time. It is more likely that the crocodiles were brought for the gladiator games held in neighboring Caesarea by the Romans. Regardless of how they got there, I was really excited to see them!
 When I arrived, I quickly started to search the stream waters. I saw a few different animals, but no crocodiless. "Where are the crocodiles!?" I asked Uri. 


"Oh, they haven't been around since 1912!" he said. "What!? Are you sure?!" I exclaimed. "It's true, they have been hunted into extinction". Apparently I had been fooled. Oh well, serves me right for being so gullible! After all, surely after six years of living in Israel I would have heard about crocodiles living in some stream by now. 


Despite my disappointment, I was at least happy to see this sign- the only of homage paid to our scaley friends of yore. Uri proceded to tell us the story behind what we were seeing all around us, and the history was pretty neat. 
The Dam


The History of the Dam
Apparently the whole point of this ancient establishment was for the Romans to raise water levels in order to supply the ancient city of Caesarea with additional water. A dam was erected (as you can see in the picture), and water was diverted to a network of channels that flowed downhill. 
Part of the Ancient Channels



The dam contiuned to function into the Byzantine period, and six flour mills were dug near the dam, operated by the power of water that flowed through the channels. 


The Regulatory Water Device
A regulartory water device was established, which regulated the water that was channeled into the low-level aqueduct and to the neighboring flour mills. During the Byzantine period, another channel was dug, which directed the water directly to the flour mills. After Caesarea's decline, the low-level aqueduct and the flour mills fell out of use. 


The Regulatory Water Device
The device consists of three deep passages, a higher one and a distribution pool. Wooden slats at the exits from the passages controlled the amount of water that was allowed to flow through. 




Crocodilopolis through the Ages
In the year 636, the area was destroyed by the Arab invasion of the 7th century. The area lied in wait until it was revitalized by the Crusaders and used on and off until the 14th century. 
One of the Water Mills
With the arrival of the Mamaluk's in the 14th century, all cities along the coast were destroyed to ensure that the Crusaders could not return. As a result, the coastal plain was abandoned and the dam ceased to function. As a result of the neglect, the entire area became a swamp. Between 1830-1840 the Ottomans were pushed back by the invading forces of Muhammad Ali, the Egyptian ruler at the time. Ali brought a North African tribe called the Gawarna (Swamp Dwellers) to settle the area because of their seeming immunity to Malaria (actually, this immunity was because they carried the Sickle Cell Gene, which prevents the Malaria paraside from attaching to the body's red blood cells). The descendents of the Gawarna helped the Zionist settlers of Zichron Ya'akov that arrived in the early 20th century to begin the process of draining the swamp. The residents of nearby Jisr Azarkaa are the decendents of the Gawarna tribe .
The Pipe Factory


The Pipe Factory
The Kabara Swamp was successfully drained between 1922 and 1932. A clay pipe factory was established here by the Baron de Rothschild, who purchased the land in the Kabara valley in order to develop the area. Unfortunately, the manufacture of the pipes here was unsuccessful, and clay pipes that were imported from France were used to drain the swamp instead. The drainage was accomplished by crisscrossing the 6,000 dunams of swamp with a network of pipes, the total length of which was 50 kilometers. The pipes capped 3,000 springs and directed their flow to an outlet channel. 

Nahal HaTaninim Today
Nahal HaTaninim- The Crocodile Stream
Currently, Nahal HaTaninim is a national park open to the public, where tours and activities are offered to visitors and families alike. Although the main entrance is from Road 4 towards Jisr Azarka, an alternate (secret) entrance is located right near the SPNI's field school at Ma'gan Michael, where you can take a visit and learn about the surroundings. 
If you're lucky, your guide might even open the waterways so you can see the water wheels in action!

I had a wonderful time visiting Nahal HaTaninim even though the crocodiles have long been gone. But who knows? Maybe there are lone crocodiles hiding in the mist, coming out only when they know no one is around....

Friday, February 17, 2012

They Say I Came Home...

Just today, I received an email with a link to an article called "The Stranger" by Georg Simmel. It is a short, three page article that attempts to explain the phenomenon of "the stranger" in any society, and why he essentially stays that way.

Most recently, I have been struggling with developing a career path in Israel, my chosen home. Simmel argues that the "stranger" will never really become a part of the group as he has not been with it from the beginning. Succeeding as a trader that bridges between worlds, he will become obsolete once his services are no longer rendered, yet may choose to remain where he is albeit forever remaining an objective outsider.

When I moved to Israel in 2006, I did so because I felt that as an American Jew on a U.S. university campus, Israel wasn't doing enough to protect us against the constant delegitimization of Israel and Jewish people by anti-Israel groups. I felt like I was fighting for my very existence in the minds and hearts of my fellow American citizens, and I promised that I would do my best to help shape the particularly awful public relations that Israelis were producing in the American media.

So I picked up, immigrated to Israel, and joined the army, accepting nothing less than enlistment into the Spokesperson's Unit. I very quickly learned that I would not penetrate the ranks of the IDF's media spokespeople. Instead, I dealt with public appeals and international inquiries. As time went on, I transferred to the Civil Administration, both in the Hebron district and then in their headquarters. I met with representatives of various foreign governmental and humanitarian organizations, doing my tiny part to project Israel in a positive light.

At the time, I felt it was best to attend my friend's wedding in the US that happened to be the same weekend that Officer's Training School was starting. So I made peace with my decision to be released from the army sans OTC so that I could continue to get a master's degree on my own time. Only after my degree would I  try and return to the ranks of my army unit in an effort to help create positive public relations as a reflection of good policy that I would help formulate.

Since I was released in 2008, I've attained a Master's degree in Public Policy from Tel Aviv University, all while volunteering my time at various non-profit organizations in order to be exposed to greater sectors of Israeli society. Now that I'm through with my education-related obligations, its time for me to develop my career.

Now, I've had a pretty difficult time dissolving myself into the Israeli work force, and after reading Simmel's article, I'm beginning to understand that I am basically doomed since well, I'll never really be a part of the group (Israel) since I was not a part of it from the beginning.

 Just this past week, I've begun to inquire returning to the Civil Administration. I was told I had no chance in the Foreign Relations branch- as I was up against another 8 Americans, 2 Swedes and a Dane in my same position. Even with a M.A. in Public Policy, it was just assumed that I would look to return to Foreign Relations solely because I come from America. What about economic policy? Environmental policy? Infrastructure Development? But no. No one thought to check my compatibility in those departments. As such, I will continually be "massed" into the group of "foreigners" that are living in Israel, regardless of how hard I try to separate myself from them. Translation services, online marketing for useless products, and English speaking customer service call centers seem to be the current trend for many Americans that I've been in contact with.

In this country, my two degrees and experience in vast areas of public service means essentially nothing. Living in Israel and coming from America, it is who you know and who you have developed relationships that will get you in through the door, as a resume will most certainly just end up in the trash can.

If I have one regret, it was giving up on the opportunity to push towards officer's training school when I was still in my compulsory army service. My long history of putting others constantly before myself is finally rearing its consequences. I've been so busy making sure that everyone around me is filled up and I've left myself nothing, in all areas of my life.

When I immigrated to Israel, I was made to believe that as a Jew, I was coming home. It's a dichotomy. While Israel is home to the Jewish people, the virtue of being Jewish is not enough to make Israel your home. Perhaps I'll be the "trader" for the rest of my life here in Israel, peddling my ideas for love and unity. And perhaps the day I become "Israeli" will be the day I lose my identity as an American. Either way, something's gotta give.




Monday, January 9, 2012

Fattoush

View from Old Yafo
(ingredients for two): 

I am not of Arabic descent, nor do I claim to be an expert in Arabic cuisine. I do, however, enjoy replicating delicious dishes that I enjoy around the world. This specific recipe comes from a fabulous Fattoush salad that I enjoyed at the Balloons Pizza Restaurant in Bethlehem. Tried and tested, my recipe tastes *almost* as good as theirs.

Enjoy my recipe for this simple, refreshing, Mediterranean salad.

For the Salad:
3 cups chopped green leafy lettuce (preferably the green tops of romaine)
1 medium tomato (or a handful of cherry tomatoes)
2 small Persian cucumbers 
1 small purple onion

Optional:
1/2 Bell Pepper 
1/2 cup fresh mint 
1/4 cup sliced red raddishes 

For the Croutons:
1 small whole wheat (or any) pita
Sumac (pictured)
Zaatar (pictured)
olive oil 

Sumac (Red) and Zaatar (Green)
For the Dressing: 
Juice of one and one half lemon 
Olive Oil
Salt
Zaatar (Hyssop) 



Instructions:

1. Wash all of your vegetables. 


 2. Chop all of your vegetables and thow into a big mixing bowl
 3. Add Sumac (about 1 tablespoon) , Zaatar (1-2 tablespoons), and salt (to taste) to your salad





 5.  Add Olive Oil (I just drizzle for a few seconds) and freshly squeezed Lemon Juice.


Side Note:  For whatever reason, no matter how hard I tried, my salads were always lacking something. So I once asked a friend of mine how to make authentic Arabic salad, and invited him to make it for me so that I could learn. First, he was not afraid to drizzle as much olive oil as needed in order to dress the salad. Second, he added salt (When you think you've added enough, add more!). Third, he said, "God gave us two hands for a reason", and proceeded to toss the salad with his hands, making sure that every last piece of beautifully diced vegetable was coated with perfect amounts of seasoning, lemon juice and olive oil. Bottom line, when you cook never be afraid to "infuse" your dishes with your uniqueness!

Making the Croutons:

 1. Prepare your ingredients.

2. Cut Pita bread into thin strips. I like using a food scissors because it gives me control and precision when cutting the pita in strips.
 3. Season bread strips with Sumac, Zaatar, and Kosher Salt. Drizzle with enough olive oil to coat the strips, and toss.
 4. Bake the strips at 150 degrees Celsius (or 300 degrees Fahrenheit). Make sure that you pay close attention to the pita strips. Olive oil has a much lower burning temperature than other oils, which could cause your pita chips to burn fast. It is always better to bake the chips at a lower temperature for longer than to blast them at a high temerature. If you decide to bake at a high temperature, make sure you keep your eyes on the chips at all times, removing them immediately if they begin to burn.


Transfer your salad to a serving bowl, and top with pita chips

My Fattoush Salad

Enjoy!