Here’s my take on the Hamas-Fatach unity deal.
My opinion of Hamas is well known: putting it lightly, I’m not a fan.
On the other hand, they were elected democratically (for all I know) by the majority of Gazans. Sadly, in my opinion, but that’s the way it is.
My major problem (amongst many) with Hamas is that they deny Israel’s right to exist. In fact their formal decree is that every Jew should be hunted out and killed wherever they may hide. Nice guys.
Israel has often stated that it cannot deal with Abu Mazen because he is “too weak” and “does not really represent the majority of the Palestinian people”.
Well, now he has entered into a coalition with Hamas. And he is the one doing the talking. No matter how you look at it, these are not the doings of a weak man. I personally admire Abu Mazen and wish Netanyahu would exhibit half the wisdom and leadership.
We all know that as September approaches, Israel will have to deal with The Palestinian move towards recognition of their Independence by the UN. I have stated in the past that I see it as totally pathetic that Israel, rather than initiating talks and signing an agreement, is forcing the Palestinians to do it on their own and “drag” us onto reluctantly agreeing: How ignoble that is, how embarrassing, how indicative of our present governments total impotence and lack of navigational skills.
I believe the fledgling Palestinian state will not receive the recognition it desires so long as members of its government (Hamas) continue to deny Israel’s right to exist. So if they are adamant about proceeding, they will have to amend that, which is a good thing. If they refuse to, it is difficult to believe they will be embraced by the international community as they strive to be.
Further, whatever agreement is reached does not depend on radical voices within each government, as long as the agreement is signed. Israel’s government also includes parties who deny the existence of a Palestinian people or the need for/legitimacy of an independent Palestinian state. That will not stop any given government from making an agreement, IF it can. We believe the Israeli people, government and future governments will respect that agreement…and we would like to believe the same goes for the Palestinians, however mixed their opinions could be.
If Hamas, as part of the Palestinian government, continue to be set on destroying Israel, and carrying out their sinister plans after the peace agreement is signed (the greatest fear of many Israelis), then we will go to war with them. But this time, the rules of the game will be different: it will not be Israel attacking so-called “innocent civilians” who are under her “cruel occupation”, but fighting against equals: a country with an army (Palestine) that has chosen to obliterate another country with an army (Israel).
Needless to say that is a horrible scenario. But how much more horrible than what is already happening, or what could potentially happen if we do not proceed?
So: I say lets wait and see, throw our omnipresent Paranoia down the drain and go bravely into what has the potential of being a new and better future for our region.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
The China Chronicles, 3rd and final chapter
Dongguan and Shenzen were both good concerts. Dongguan especially..i think it was probably the show I enjoyed most of all. The sound situation was wonderful…there were loudspeakers installed in the walls of the theater on both sides of the stage that were turned slightly inwards, so I got the full “house” sound, and needed only the very slightest bit of clarity and definition from the monitors on stage (sorry for the tech talk but you cannot imagine how the sound situation effects the performance! It is often critical and can make or break the show…and the singer’s spirit! Sound engineers be advised…:-)). It felt like singing in an ethereal cathedral with my head in a cloud and the feeling of warm earth beneath my feet, quite thrilling. And the audience! They were just amazing. There were tons of young people (later we discovered there was a whole class of students studying journalism who came to see us! They were so sweet and all wanted photos and autographs…. And there were young athletes too, and of course everybody’s parents:-)) and people of all shapes colors sizes, all Chinese but as diverse as one people can ever be, unified by their sincere appreciation for the music and sheer enthusiasm and excitement.
After Shenzen we had a long and frustrating travel day (our plane was delayed for two hours on the runway, and then flew three hours, so all together 5 in the metal bird’s belly with limited air circulation…yuch…) that brought us back to Beijing. After two weeks we had come full circle.
How can I describe how I felt? Exhilaration, excitement,anticipation,heart being pulled in every which direction…we had been waiting for this moment, the concert in Beijing..so many important guests and critics… we had wanted to have that little bit of time to be “tourists” finally in the morning and a half of free time we were to have in that great city… but most of all the nearness of home!...what had seemed like an eternity and light years away was now within our reach, at the tips of our fingers…one last effort and..
For two weeks I had ached and pained over the separation from my children. Now, I let it go. Knowing I would see them in just two days was so comforting I allowed myself to breath, maybe for the first time on this tour, and concentrate on one of my favorite pastimes: buying them gifts! :-) two weeks in china and I had hardly spent five minutes in a shop! Scandalous! :-)
The next morning we tool a taxi to the silk market.
What can I tell you friends? How can I describe the experience? I’ll begin by saying I was (and remain) totally FLABBERGASTED by what I saw.
Rows and rows of stalls, One after the other after the other, loaded with goods. From floor to ceiling, products of all sorts were presented, folded on shelves, hung, laid out, strapped up, taped, pinned, strung, covering every tiny patch of space, cluttered and crammed in a dazzling, head spinning array of color and sound. Vendors, vying for buyer’s attention, calling out at you from every corner, “come, lady! Here best price! Come! My store best quality! Where you from? Oh, Isaleeyuh (that’s how the Chinese pronounce Israel, if they have ever heard of it, of course)! Shalom! Sabbaba!”
The name “silk Market” is misleading. Yes, there are plenty of colorful traditional Chinese silk products on display there… but these account for no more than ten percent of what can be found in the mammoth four floor shopping labyrinth that goes by that name. What stunned me was actually all the OTHER stuff. Can you imagine rows and tows of every major designer in the world? Clothing, bags, shoes, coats, accessories, outdoor gear, cosmetics, and more and more and all Chanel, Prada, Polo, Armani, Versace, Gucci, Hermes, Burberry, Nike, whatever! And electronics, every gadget on earth, and that’s before you’ve started with the jewelry, the arts and crafts, the ceramics, the brick-a-brack and houseware and what not!!! Help!!! I kept imagining my husband in there: we would have had to call an ambulance for him for sure. My mother, on the other hand, would have been on cloud nine! For there is nothing that my mother enjoys more than a bargain!
And bargain you must….haggle or bust!
After being totally ripped off the first five minutes by a seemingly nice girl who swore on her mother’s head that her price was the best in the market (there’s at least one headless mom strutting around Beijing as we speak..), I got the idea. We Yemenite girls learn fast.
It goes like this:
Me (pointing at something I don’t need but intend to buy): how much? (one must resort to very basic English or remain misunderstood for eternity)
Vendor: How many you take?
Me: depends on price. What your price?
V: how much you want pay?
M: you tell me!
V: ok (taking calculator in hand). I give you good price, no price for tourists. You smart lady (they say that to everyone). You no stupid. No waste time. This price (types a preposterous figure)
M: what?? For this?? No, no. MUCH too high. I saw in other store, your colleague. MUCH cheaper! Why you give me this price?
V: ok, what you want pay?
M, (taking calc, typing 20% of the original offer)
V (shocked): what?? No! so low! Less than what I pay! No make money! No, no!
M: ok (turning to go).
V: wait, wait, lady, wait! You my first customer today, want start business, what you pay? You add more, give more. Good for me, good for you, ok?
……and so it goes on and on, finally we settle on something that is about 30 -40- percent of the original offer, and take our leave as friends.
And the prices? By our standards, preposterously low.
Friends let me tell you this: we in the western world are being ripped off like you CANNOT IMAGINE! We work morning to night, we pay endless taxes, and then we are sold products made in china, using cheap labor, shipped to our posh shops and priced three, four, five or more HUNDRED percent above than what they can be bought for in the silk market in Beijing, not to mention wholesale and production cost which is much lower still! It is so infuriating I could just scream! I swear, after several hours in that market, I will never again be able to buy an article of clothing in Israel, Europe or the US without feeling like a complete sucker and idiot being taken advantage of by a piggish system whose greed knows no bounds.
“Imitations” you say. Imitations of what? What is the original? It all looks amazing, it is all produced here, it all says, ‘made in italy’ or ‘made in france’ so where is it made and by whom and who cares anyway? What justification could there possibly be for spending 400 dollars on a bag that can be bought in this market for 20? Especially knowing the remaining 380 could feed a family here for several months?
As always, China forces you to throw all that you hold true high up in the air and then behold, with amazement, the strange patterns that form when gravity takes its course.
After the shopping we went back to the hotel to get ready for the show. I was so nervous, I kept puttering, arranging and rearranging my gig-bag (suitcase with all my concert things in it), reviewing my Chinese, warming my voice and ironing the dress I planned to wear (I had three, black, turquoise, white…chose the white one…for Yom ha Atzmaut, for the purity of it and the jasmine flower look :-)..but mostly to make Zhang Ying happy..she loved that one :-)). I tried to sleep a bit but felt too restless so took a shower, dressed and sat on my bed waiting until it was time to go. I felt overwhelmed by emotions and images of the past two weeks and got into that staring-into-space, ‘there-but-not-really-there’ mode that my children know so well. It comes with the “my mom the artist” package (I once told them the glazed eyes and tilted head moments are when I usually come up with all my songs). ´Ima, are you listening?’ my son Ayehli will say. “Of course I am sweetheart, sorry, I was just..yes…tell me again mami, sorry :-(”…”mom…..” sighs my ten year old.
This time it served as a much needed tranquilizer.
After 21 years I still get butterflies in my stomach.
Zhang Ying had us in the theater about two hours earlier than what was needed. She was so hysterical that evening….it was her big night! The Forbidden City Concert Hall is where she works, the heart of the theater chain that had hosted us. There were many important guests coming, the Israeli ambassador and a large group of his staff, our sponsor, the wonderful Dr. David Ong, and his family and guests, local musicians and journalists, friends and colleagues…Ying orchestrated it all like a real pro, fluttering about, helping this, taking care of that, making sure everything was in order, and all with her little smile and jumpy gait and enormous positive energy.
One very special member of the audience was Masami Matsushima…a girl from Japan who has been our devoted fan for more than ten years. She had a bad traffic accident a few years ago that left her in a coma and was written off as a lost case. During those long months of uncertainty her mother put headphones on her and played her our music, insisting the music would keep her alive. She eventually woke against all odds, claiming the music had saved her life! This special soul, who cannot walk without a cane and suffers from a long line of physical ailments, flew in especially from Japan just for the concert! We invited her to be backstage with us before and after the show. She is incredible.
Finally it was show time. Galia our amazing tour manager, after having scurried from here to there endlessly helping everyone and making sure every little detail was ready for a smooth take off into the skies of music, convened us all together for our traditional pre-concert ritual. Gil, mira, shai (her talented guitarist),galia,ying, gadi (our wonderful sound engineer of 18 years), Florentijn (the gifted lighting engineer) and myself all gathered all, hands in the center like a human flower, hey, hey, hey HEYYY! Hands in the air, smiles, a bit of the pressure is released and we are ready to go.
The show was wonderful. We were all at our best. The audience was warm, receptive, attentive and appreciative. As every good concert, it was a small gift from the universe.
After the show, we were embraced by hundreds who crowded the lobby of the great hall, amongst them classical, folk and pop musicians who came to listen and were all deeply impressed and enthusiastic, journalists, friends and of course the Ambassador and his entourage who were high with excitement. The ambassador and cultural attaché had been instrumental in creating this tour, actually connecting us with the FCCH and convincing them to take us on, and supporting the tour financially. David Ong then agreed to sponsor us (for the FCCH pay a very modest artist fee that cannot even cover costs), and IDB Israel gave an additional sum that finally made it all feasible. Of course David and his family were there, radiant, and as always, exuding good energy and light.
Dinner was a very gay affair, with 30 people in a special room of a restaurant not far from the theater, all organized by Ying. The food was good, spirits were high, the room filled with conversation and laughter. One of the guests was a very important classical music critic who gave us extraordinary compliments...i was beside myself with joy. Another guest was a big pop star who gave me all his dvds (he had a bit of a ‘mad max’ look Chinese version :-)) , and one other guest, Natalie Portman’s father :-) ….funny life is.
Back in my room I was on cloud nine. It was difficult to come in for a landing but after puttering, packing ,showering, thinking, smsing, emailing, skyping and whatever, my usual after show routine, I managed to fall asleep at around 2:30.
The next day our flight home was at 10 pm so we had the morning and afternoon to ourselves. Despite the late night previous, we all woke very early and left at 7:30 to visit a park with a temple in it that we were told was full of activity in the morning worth the red eyes.
And worthy it was.
We saw endless groups of ‘Beijingers’, mostly senior citizens but not only, all in envigorating motion: tai-chi, tai chi tennis, couples dancing (complete with very loud Chinese pop music played on a transistor), tai chi stretching, tai-chi with swords, tai chi with pink pon pons, singing in massive choirs, playing instruments that sounded like alien screeching to us but looked nice, singing poking opera, jumping up and down stair on one foot, line dancing, playing cards, chess, poker, badminton, crocheting and writing Chinese on the sidewalk with water and a huge brush. It was, once again, mind boggling, and I must say, it made me so envious. How I wish senior citizens in my own country had a fraction of the possibilities and the resulting stamina! I could envision my grandmother and one day, my parents, thoroughly enjoying the vibe, the activity and the company, doubtlessly the keys to Chinese longevity.
We skipped the temple. The people in the park gave us all the inspiration and mental photo-albums we needed.
After a bit more shopping (of course), and the inevitable struggle to fit it all into one suitcase, we were on our way to the airport. Saying goodbye to David Ong (who came to the hotel to wave us goodbye toting gifts, as if he had not given us enough already..) and little ying (Gadi coined the name “yingaleh” :-)), was a tearful affair..as the song goes..i die a little… but on the other side of the universe families were waiting, new life, deep love. So we wiped the tears and turned our backs to go…leaving china behind us.
And here I am.
After travelling across the land and sea, through the night that turned to day in darkness, through the airport into the taxi through the light of early morning into the little street and the house at the end of the street where they were all still sleeping…then they woke, their warm little bodies running embracing giggling eyes shining little heads on my shoulder mommy what did you buy us? And the innards of the suitcase all spill on the living room floor and yum my baby reveling in the mess and looking at me with the umbilical wisdom of a 14 month old…no more milk mommy…it’s just you and me now…there are so many ways to love….
The house is empty now. Sitting at my desk in front of the window that overlooks the sea, writing it all down…sealing it….feeling it…branding it upon my heart...
China….
i am thinking of the brilliant animated film, Ratatouille, ..and the food critic that was the terror of all Paris, and the trembling waiter asking him: have you made your selection, sir? And the answer, in a radical british accent: “do you have some Perrrrspective? I’ll have some, with a good wine to go with it”.
That is how I feel…I have been given some Perrrrrspective. And my children’s love is the best wine I can imagine to go with it.
Signing off,
Noa, Shefayim, may 12, 2011.
After Shenzen we had a long and frustrating travel day (our plane was delayed for two hours on the runway, and then flew three hours, so all together 5 in the metal bird’s belly with limited air circulation…yuch…) that brought us back to Beijing. After two weeks we had come full circle.
How can I describe how I felt? Exhilaration, excitement,anticipation,heart being pulled in every which direction…we had been waiting for this moment, the concert in Beijing..so many important guests and critics… we had wanted to have that little bit of time to be “tourists” finally in the morning and a half of free time we were to have in that great city… but most of all the nearness of home!...what had seemed like an eternity and light years away was now within our reach, at the tips of our fingers…one last effort and..
For two weeks I had ached and pained over the separation from my children. Now, I let it go. Knowing I would see them in just two days was so comforting I allowed myself to breath, maybe for the first time on this tour, and concentrate on one of my favorite pastimes: buying them gifts! :-) two weeks in china and I had hardly spent five minutes in a shop! Scandalous! :-)
The next morning we tool a taxi to the silk market.
What can I tell you friends? How can I describe the experience? I’ll begin by saying I was (and remain) totally FLABBERGASTED by what I saw.
Rows and rows of stalls, One after the other after the other, loaded with goods. From floor to ceiling, products of all sorts were presented, folded on shelves, hung, laid out, strapped up, taped, pinned, strung, covering every tiny patch of space, cluttered and crammed in a dazzling, head spinning array of color and sound. Vendors, vying for buyer’s attention, calling out at you from every corner, “come, lady! Here best price! Come! My store best quality! Where you from? Oh, Isaleeyuh (that’s how the Chinese pronounce Israel, if they have ever heard of it, of course)! Shalom! Sabbaba!”
The name “silk Market” is misleading. Yes, there are plenty of colorful traditional Chinese silk products on display there… but these account for no more than ten percent of what can be found in the mammoth four floor shopping labyrinth that goes by that name. What stunned me was actually all the OTHER stuff. Can you imagine rows and tows of every major designer in the world? Clothing, bags, shoes, coats, accessories, outdoor gear, cosmetics, and more and more and all Chanel, Prada, Polo, Armani, Versace, Gucci, Hermes, Burberry, Nike, whatever! And electronics, every gadget on earth, and that’s before you’ve started with the jewelry, the arts and crafts, the ceramics, the brick-a-brack and houseware and what not!!! Help!!! I kept imagining my husband in there: we would have had to call an ambulance for him for sure. My mother, on the other hand, would have been on cloud nine! For there is nothing that my mother enjoys more than a bargain!
And bargain you must….haggle or bust!
After being totally ripped off the first five minutes by a seemingly nice girl who swore on her mother’s head that her price was the best in the market (there’s at least one headless mom strutting around Beijing as we speak..), I got the idea. We Yemenite girls learn fast.
It goes like this:
Me (pointing at something I don’t need but intend to buy): how much? (one must resort to very basic English or remain misunderstood for eternity)
Vendor: How many you take?
Me: depends on price. What your price?
V: how much you want pay?
M: you tell me!
V: ok (taking calculator in hand). I give you good price, no price for tourists. You smart lady (they say that to everyone). You no stupid. No waste time. This price (types a preposterous figure)
M: what?? For this?? No, no. MUCH too high. I saw in other store, your colleague. MUCH cheaper! Why you give me this price?
V: ok, what you want pay?
M, (taking calc, typing 20% of the original offer)
V (shocked): what?? No! so low! Less than what I pay! No make money! No, no!
M: ok (turning to go).
V: wait, wait, lady, wait! You my first customer today, want start business, what you pay? You add more, give more. Good for me, good for you, ok?
……and so it goes on and on, finally we settle on something that is about 30 -40- percent of the original offer, and take our leave as friends.
And the prices? By our standards, preposterously low.
Friends let me tell you this: we in the western world are being ripped off like you CANNOT IMAGINE! We work morning to night, we pay endless taxes, and then we are sold products made in china, using cheap labor, shipped to our posh shops and priced three, four, five or more HUNDRED percent above than what they can be bought for in the silk market in Beijing, not to mention wholesale and production cost which is much lower still! It is so infuriating I could just scream! I swear, after several hours in that market, I will never again be able to buy an article of clothing in Israel, Europe or the US without feeling like a complete sucker and idiot being taken advantage of by a piggish system whose greed knows no bounds.
“Imitations” you say. Imitations of what? What is the original? It all looks amazing, it is all produced here, it all says, ‘made in italy’ or ‘made in france’ so where is it made and by whom and who cares anyway? What justification could there possibly be for spending 400 dollars on a bag that can be bought in this market for 20? Especially knowing the remaining 380 could feed a family here for several months?
As always, China forces you to throw all that you hold true high up in the air and then behold, with amazement, the strange patterns that form when gravity takes its course.
After the shopping we went back to the hotel to get ready for the show. I was so nervous, I kept puttering, arranging and rearranging my gig-bag (suitcase with all my concert things in it), reviewing my Chinese, warming my voice and ironing the dress I planned to wear (I had three, black, turquoise, white…chose the white one…for Yom ha Atzmaut, for the purity of it and the jasmine flower look :-)..but mostly to make Zhang Ying happy..she loved that one :-)). I tried to sleep a bit but felt too restless so took a shower, dressed and sat on my bed waiting until it was time to go. I felt overwhelmed by emotions and images of the past two weeks and got into that staring-into-space, ‘there-but-not-really-there’ mode that my children know so well. It comes with the “my mom the artist” package (I once told them the glazed eyes and tilted head moments are when I usually come up with all my songs). ´Ima, are you listening?’ my son Ayehli will say. “Of course I am sweetheart, sorry, I was just..yes…tell me again mami, sorry :-(”…”mom…..” sighs my ten year old.
This time it served as a much needed tranquilizer.
After 21 years I still get butterflies in my stomach.
Zhang Ying had us in the theater about two hours earlier than what was needed. She was so hysterical that evening….it was her big night! The Forbidden City Concert Hall is where she works, the heart of the theater chain that had hosted us. There were many important guests coming, the Israeli ambassador and a large group of his staff, our sponsor, the wonderful Dr. David Ong, and his family and guests, local musicians and journalists, friends and colleagues…Ying orchestrated it all like a real pro, fluttering about, helping this, taking care of that, making sure everything was in order, and all with her little smile and jumpy gait and enormous positive energy.
One very special member of the audience was Masami Matsushima…a girl from Japan who has been our devoted fan for more than ten years. She had a bad traffic accident a few years ago that left her in a coma and was written off as a lost case. During those long months of uncertainty her mother put headphones on her and played her our music, insisting the music would keep her alive. She eventually woke against all odds, claiming the music had saved her life! This special soul, who cannot walk without a cane and suffers from a long line of physical ailments, flew in especially from Japan just for the concert! We invited her to be backstage with us before and after the show. She is incredible.
Finally it was show time. Galia our amazing tour manager, after having scurried from here to there endlessly helping everyone and making sure every little detail was ready for a smooth take off into the skies of music, convened us all together for our traditional pre-concert ritual. Gil, mira, shai (her talented guitarist),galia,ying, gadi (our wonderful sound engineer of 18 years), Florentijn (the gifted lighting engineer) and myself all gathered all, hands in the center like a human flower, hey, hey, hey HEYYY! Hands in the air, smiles, a bit of the pressure is released and we are ready to go.
The show was wonderful. We were all at our best. The audience was warm, receptive, attentive and appreciative. As every good concert, it was a small gift from the universe.
After the show, we were embraced by hundreds who crowded the lobby of the great hall, amongst them classical, folk and pop musicians who came to listen and were all deeply impressed and enthusiastic, journalists, friends and of course the Ambassador and his entourage who were high with excitement. The ambassador and cultural attaché had been instrumental in creating this tour, actually connecting us with the FCCH and convincing them to take us on, and supporting the tour financially. David Ong then agreed to sponsor us (for the FCCH pay a very modest artist fee that cannot even cover costs), and IDB Israel gave an additional sum that finally made it all feasible. Of course David and his family were there, radiant, and as always, exuding good energy and light.
Dinner was a very gay affair, with 30 people in a special room of a restaurant not far from the theater, all organized by Ying. The food was good, spirits were high, the room filled with conversation and laughter. One of the guests was a very important classical music critic who gave us extraordinary compliments...i was beside myself with joy. Another guest was a big pop star who gave me all his dvds (he had a bit of a ‘mad max’ look Chinese version :-)) , and one other guest, Natalie Portman’s father :-) ….funny life is.
Back in my room I was on cloud nine. It was difficult to come in for a landing but after puttering, packing ,showering, thinking, smsing, emailing, skyping and whatever, my usual after show routine, I managed to fall asleep at around 2:30.
The next day our flight home was at 10 pm so we had the morning and afternoon to ourselves. Despite the late night previous, we all woke very early and left at 7:30 to visit a park with a temple in it that we were told was full of activity in the morning worth the red eyes.
And worthy it was.
We saw endless groups of ‘Beijingers’, mostly senior citizens but not only, all in envigorating motion: tai-chi, tai chi tennis, couples dancing (complete with very loud Chinese pop music played on a transistor), tai chi stretching, tai-chi with swords, tai chi with pink pon pons, singing in massive choirs, playing instruments that sounded like alien screeching to us but looked nice, singing poking opera, jumping up and down stair on one foot, line dancing, playing cards, chess, poker, badminton, crocheting and writing Chinese on the sidewalk with water and a huge brush. It was, once again, mind boggling, and I must say, it made me so envious. How I wish senior citizens in my own country had a fraction of the possibilities and the resulting stamina! I could envision my grandmother and one day, my parents, thoroughly enjoying the vibe, the activity and the company, doubtlessly the keys to Chinese longevity.
We skipped the temple. The people in the park gave us all the inspiration and mental photo-albums we needed.
After a bit more shopping (of course), and the inevitable struggle to fit it all into one suitcase, we were on our way to the airport. Saying goodbye to David Ong (who came to the hotel to wave us goodbye toting gifts, as if he had not given us enough already..) and little ying (Gadi coined the name “yingaleh” :-)), was a tearful affair..as the song goes..i die a little… but on the other side of the universe families were waiting, new life, deep love. So we wiped the tears and turned our backs to go…leaving china behind us.
And here I am.
After travelling across the land and sea, through the night that turned to day in darkness, through the airport into the taxi through the light of early morning into the little street and the house at the end of the street where they were all still sleeping…then they woke, their warm little bodies running embracing giggling eyes shining little heads on my shoulder mommy what did you buy us? And the innards of the suitcase all spill on the living room floor and yum my baby reveling in the mess and looking at me with the umbilical wisdom of a 14 month old…no more milk mommy…it’s just you and me now…there are so many ways to love….
The house is empty now. Sitting at my desk in front of the window that overlooks the sea, writing it all down…sealing it….feeling it…branding it upon my heart...
China….
i am thinking of the brilliant animated film, Ratatouille, ..and the food critic that was the terror of all Paris, and the trembling waiter asking him: have you made your selection, sir? And the answer, in a radical british accent: “do you have some Perrrrspective? I’ll have some, with a good wine to go with it”.
That is how I feel…I have been given some Perrrrrspective. And my children’s love is the best wine I can imagine to go with it.
Signing off,
Noa, Shefayim, may 12, 2011.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
China Chronicles-part 2
The China Chronicles, part 2
We left Hefei on May 1st, big festival in still-mostly-communist China. We had some time before our train was to depart so it was decided that we all take a walk together in a pedestrian area. Hordes of people flowed in the European style shopping street, red lanterns swinging, people of all shapes and sizes in constant motion, pushing and shoving, meandering, yelling, carrying their children like precious bundles (I have seen maybe 5 baby carriages since I got here! they just pick up their kids!). Chinese pop music blasting from the endless shops, luring people in to buy that shirt or dress pair of jeans that will transport them straight to America, make them young and beautiful and rich and happy, of course. Huge billboards above the mega department stores all boasted western beauties in Lancome, Chanel, Gucci and what not, while down below slanted eyes gazed longingly. When they weren’t adoring the super models they were mesmerized (and amused) by us: a group of foreigners in an otherwise totally Chinese place…(tourists don’t set foot in Hefei).
I am famous in many places in the world and accustomed to being stared at, but nothing could prepare me for the dropped jaws and shameless ogling I experience here… dark skinned curly haired stranger walks the streets! Everybody smiles at me shyly or boldly but always curiously…I am an oddity. They giggle and tell me I’m “bootifoo” (those that can say that word…all three of them J). It could have easily been the opposite: I could have been perceived here as vulgar and ugly compared to the slim black haired porcelain dolls the women here all resemble. In any case, I am an oddity. I guess every person should experience that at least once in their life: what it means to feel, and be, so totally different. It humbles you.
To escape the crowds we ducked into an alley where a vendor was selling fresh pineapples. Two steps into the tiny side street, the ‘other’ China shows its face: shabby, poor, dilapidated, dirty…laundry and seaweed hanging to dry side by side on a greasy clothes line, and the omnipresent smell …
Behind the glittering façade, there is still much to be done.
After our walk in the human river, we took a train to Changzhou (CHUNG-JOE), checked into a pretty seedy ‘wannabe’ modern hotel that smelled funny, went out to dinner (celebrated Ofer’s birthday…) had strange food, and called it a day.
The next morning I was on a quest. A friend of mine, who lived there for a year, urged me to visit what he described as a fascinating, mystical, meditative place..a temple at the top of a sacred mountain. Gil, Florntijn and myself left at 6:45 am with a taxi for what my friend had said would be a 45 minute drive. It took an hour and a half, through a seemingly endless metropolis that finally made way for mountains. We reached a place called “Moushan” (he had said it would be called Emei Shan), there was a cable car (he said stairs)…and at the top, everything but tranquility: The place was packed with devout Taoists (I never knew such a thing existed. Truth is I am developing a stronger aversion to religion of all sorts with every passing day..btw, one of the nice things about China is that most people here are NOT religious! Thank GOD! J)
We witnessed a strange Taoist ritual whereby the believers take bundles of reeds that come in all shapes and sizes (depending on your status I suppose: the largest ones are over almost two meters tall and quite expensive), burn the tips in a medieval looking dungeon-like fire room, then walk into the main square and wave them around vehemently, chanting prayers and asking their angry looking gods for health and prosperity (I am guessing prosperity takes first place: money rules).It’s a pyromaniac’s dream come true. When they’re finished with the deadly fire ceremony, they start throwing pennies at brass towers and into dragon’s mouths…all in hope of bettering their luck somehow. And there are palm readers in every corner who will sell you any old story I suppose.
Later I discovered that there had been a…what shall I call it?....a slight misunderstanding. My friend (the relationship with whom I am seriously reconsidering) had indeed spent a year in China, but not in Changzhou but in Chungdu (CHUNG-DU). Sounds the same, eh..but, well, thousands of miles away, whole different ballgame, whole different temple. So, my quixotic quest can be chalked up to anthropological experience.
The concert in Changzhou was good. Mira and I are definitely getting the hang of it. I think we have unlocked at least some of the endless mysteries of the Chinese audience. I am saying my little Chinese speech at the beginning of my part of the show by heart now.. they love it! And when we sing in Chinese at the end, they go ga gaJ they participate so willingly when asked to clap or sing along…they are like children, full of wonder…
After the show, we met a pair of Israelis with their two children who had taken the train from Shanghai especially to see us. Talking with them was very enlightening, albeit disconcerting. We learned that the average Chinese makes about 3000 yuen a month, the equivalent of 1,500 shekels or about 350 dollars. In high tech you go as high as 700-800 dollars only! Our friends were amazed that so many people could afford to come to our shows. They also told us that in China there are no social security or unemployment benefits, and no health insurance! I was quite shocked to hear that. I was certain that in a quasi-communist state as this one, your compensation for lack of freedom on almost every front would surely be some sort of social net. But it appears that only your employer can give you health benefits. When you’re unemployed, you’re on your own. Self employed: pay your way. As a result, our friends explained, everybody works. Given no other choice you clean streets or help build the ubiquitous sky scrapers but whatever you do, don’t stay jobless. What’s more, we learned that many of those skyscrapers in the shiny new neighborhoods on the peripheries of huge metropolises are uninhabited! They are the government’s attempt to prepare ahead of time for the inevitable migration from rural communities to the big cities that they foresee happening in the next decade. Until then, they stand like the ghosts of enormous, petrified cement trees.
Sigh.
Well, to lighten things up, here is some comic relief:
Did you knowwwww…
That cucumbers are BIG in China? Yes, our very own melafefon! J
They are dished up in restaurants every which way, you can find them being munched casually by fashion-minded young Chinese cruising the boulevard, and most fantastically, our backstage snacks at many theaters include cucumber flavored potato chips!
Yes, clearly a cucumber obsession. J
And did you know…
That many Chinese do not put diapers on their babies? They believe in ‘toilet training’ (if you could call it that) from day one, so, what they do is dress these little cuties in pants or overalls that have a slit right where their bottoms are. And then, it’s Russian Roulette! Can you move the baby the few centimeters away from you that it takes to avoid being splattered, in time? Let’s see you! This phenomenon never ceases to amaze me here. The first time I saw it on a windy, rainy day in Tiananmen square I ran to the parents and tried to explain to them that their child’s pants had torn by mistake and his bottom was bare in the freezing cold! They looked at me like I was some crazy person.
Who’s crazy? I do not know. In China the word crazy takes on whole new dimensions.
What’s for sure is, the Chinese love their children. They dote on them, adore them, spoil them, invest in them, cuddle them, sacrifice everything for them. It is worthy of praise.
We were talking to a man on the airplane today. When I told him I had three children (unheard of here), he looked at me with longing in his eyes and said: you are lucky. When I tell the average European I have three children, he says: you are crazy. That sort of sums it up.
And one last anecdote:
If you are a female and have any plans of using the toilet in any place other than you very modern hotel room, you are in for a very “interesting” experience. First, prepare your gas mask. Or take a deep breath and hold it for 5 minutes, but whatever you do, don’t inhale! The scent is revolting in ways unknown to man. Second, bring toilet paper from home OR make sure you take it into the stall with you. Otherwise, its drip dry for you, girl. Third, if you were planning on wearing overalls, stockings, high heels, tight dresses, corsets, and the like…..don’t. J they don’t go well with the hole in the ground that passes for a toilet here (and that includes nice restaurants!!) Unless of course you are interested in exploring new yoga positions that will enable you to relieve yourself without getting all disgustingly splattered.
Modernity in China stops at the door of the water closet.
So, back to the tour: after Changzhou we took the train four and a half hours to Wuhan. (Chinese trains and train stations leave much to be desired).
Wuhan: yet ANOTHER big city with the combination of old slummy looking neighborhoods and new, super techy skyscrapers. The hotel smelled bad (for a change!) and the rooms were pretty scrappy. BUT, in keeping with the great Chinese tradition of just-when- you- though-you-understood-something-forget-it-‘cause-you-don’t, the concert was in a stunning hall which makes Carnegie hall in NY look like a dump, and I kid you not. All plush red seats, glimmering wooden stage, gold inlays on the walls, huge golden organ in the back, huge golden flower on the ceiling, wow! And breathtaking acoustics! natural reverberation from the source to the ear to the heart.
We had a great audience (900 people!), who were super enthusiastic (in Chinese terms of course J). After the show they were all over us and the vibe was very good. It was an uplifting experience.
At night in my room I struggled with my computer. Slow internet in most hotels makes it very difficult to use that international substitute for nearness called Skype. I saw my daughter Enea but could not hear her nor she me. Ayehli was nowhere to be found. It was frustrating to say the very least.
Truth is? I am so homesick I could just die.
China is interesting and enlightening in many ways, but I miss my kids and husband and parents and my mother’s cooking and my little baby’s smile more than I can describe. Every day I extract milk from my body (yes, I am still doing that..) in hope that she will still have something to take when I see her again…just for the warmth of it, the symbiotic joy of oneness that nothing in this life or any other can compare to. I don’t know if it will last..but I’m giving it a fight. I guess like China, I too am crazy.
Woah..its late..gotta go the to theater soon (did I mention I am now in …where am i?..yes, Chongqing.. In Szechuan province. Very modern hotel in a skyscraper forest…). Show tonight, our 6th! (3 more to go….)
No matter how confused, brokenhearted, homesick and tired I may be, the prospect of singing in a few hours, opening the doors of my heart again to let in whatever comes, and let out whatever needs to fly…. never fails to illuminate my soul. Thank you, spirit of the universe, for allowing me to do that….
To be continued…
I am back in my room after an excellent concert at the Chongqing grand theater, another monstrous edifice, 17 months old, enormous stage, ultra modern facility that makes most theaters in Europe look like outhouses. After the show, we drove by the river and had a view of Chongqing by night. We were all speechless. NY times ten. Blade-runner meets Fifth Element meets Matrix , and all smelling of fried fish.
I just saw both my girls on Skype. I couldn’t hear them, but they could hear me so I sang them “the itsy bitsy spider” and blew them kisses…
Good night all. I will send this off now. Tomorrow is a new day.
Noa, Chongqing, China, may 5 2011
We left Hefei on May 1st, big festival in still-mostly-communist China. We had some time before our train was to depart so it was decided that we all take a walk together in a pedestrian area. Hordes of people flowed in the European style shopping street, red lanterns swinging, people of all shapes and sizes in constant motion, pushing and shoving, meandering, yelling, carrying their children like precious bundles (I have seen maybe 5 baby carriages since I got here! they just pick up their kids!). Chinese pop music blasting from the endless shops, luring people in to buy that shirt or dress pair of jeans that will transport them straight to America, make them young and beautiful and rich and happy, of course. Huge billboards above the mega department stores all boasted western beauties in Lancome, Chanel, Gucci and what not, while down below slanted eyes gazed longingly. When they weren’t adoring the super models they were mesmerized (and amused) by us: a group of foreigners in an otherwise totally Chinese place…(tourists don’t set foot in Hefei).
I am famous in many places in the world and accustomed to being stared at, but nothing could prepare me for the dropped jaws and shameless ogling I experience here… dark skinned curly haired stranger walks the streets! Everybody smiles at me shyly or boldly but always curiously…I am an oddity. They giggle and tell me I’m “bootifoo” (those that can say that word…all three of them J). It could have easily been the opposite: I could have been perceived here as vulgar and ugly compared to the slim black haired porcelain dolls the women here all resemble. In any case, I am an oddity. I guess every person should experience that at least once in their life: what it means to feel, and be, so totally different. It humbles you.
To escape the crowds we ducked into an alley where a vendor was selling fresh pineapples. Two steps into the tiny side street, the ‘other’ China shows its face: shabby, poor, dilapidated, dirty…laundry and seaweed hanging to dry side by side on a greasy clothes line, and the omnipresent smell …
Behind the glittering façade, there is still much to be done.
After our walk in the human river, we took a train to Changzhou (CHUNG-JOE), checked into a pretty seedy ‘wannabe’ modern hotel that smelled funny, went out to dinner (celebrated Ofer’s birthday…) had strange food, and called it a day.
The next morning I was on a quest. A friend of mine, who lived there for a year, urged me to visit what he described as a fascinating, mystical, meditative place..a temple at the top of a sacred mountain. Gil, Florntijn and myself left at 6:45 am with a taxi for what my friend had said would be a 45 minute drive. It took an hour and a half, through a seemingly endless metropolis that finally made way for mountains. We reached a place called “Moushan” (he had said it would be called Emei Shan), there was a cable car (he said stairs)…and at the top, everything but tranquility: The place was packed with devout Taoists (I never knew such a thing existed. Truth is I am developing a stronger aversion to religion of all sorts with every passing day..btw, one of the nice things about China is that most people here are NOT religious! Thank GOD! J)
We witnessed a strange Taoist ritual whereby the believers take bundles of reeds that come in all shapes and sizes (depending on your status I suppose: the largest ones are over almost two meters tall and quite expensive), burn the tips in a medieval looking dungeon-like fire room, then walk into the main square and wave them around vehemently, chanting prayers and asking their angry looking gods for health and prosperity (I am guessing prosperity takes first place: money rules).It’s a pyromaniac’s dream come true. When they’re finished with the deadly fire ceremony, they start throwing pennies at brass towers and into dragon’s mouths…all in hope of bettering their luck somehow. And there are palm readers in every corner who will sell you any old story I suppose.
Later I discovered that there had been a…what shall I call it?....a slight misunderstanding. My friend (the relationship with whom I am seriously reconsidering) had indeed spent a year in China, but not in Changzhou but in Chungdu (CHUNG-DU). Sounds the same, eh..but, well, thousands of miles away, whole different ballgame, whole different temple. So, my quixotic quest can be chalked up to anthropological experience.
The concert in Changzhou was good. Mira and I are definitely getting the hang of it. I think we have unlocked at least some of the endless mysteries of the Chinese audience. I am saying my little Chinese speech at the beginning of my part of the show by heart now.. they love it! And when we sing in Chinese at the end, they go ga gaJ they participate so willingly when asked to clap or sing along…they are like children, full of wonder…
After the show, we met a pair of Israelis with their two children who had taken the train from Shanghai especially to see us. Talking with them was very enlightening, albeit disconcerting. We learned that the average Chinese makes about 3000 yuen a month, the equivalent of 1,500 shekels or about 350 dollars. In high tech you go as high as 700-800 dollars only! Our friends were amazed that so many people could afford to come to our shows. They also told us that in China there are no social security or unemployment benefits, and no health insurance! I was quite shocked to hear that. I was certain that in a quasi-communist state as this one, your compensation for lack of freedom on almost every front would surely be some sort of social net. But it appears that only your employer can give you health benefits. When you’re unemployed, you’re on your own. Self employed: pay your way. As a result, our friends explained, everybody works. Given no other choice you clean streets or help build the ubiquitous sky scrapers but whatever you do, don’t stay jobless. What’s more, we learned that many of those skyscrapers in the shiny new neighborhoods on the peripheries of huge metropolises are uninhabited! They are the government’s attempt to prepare ahead of time for the inevitable migration from rural communities to the big cities that they foresee happening in the next decade. Until then, they stand like the ghosts of enormous, petrified cement trees.
Sigh.
Well, to lighten things up, here is some comic relief:
Did you knowwwww…
That cucumbers are BIG in China? Yes, our very own melafefon! J
They are dished up in restaurants every which way, you can find them being munched casually by fashion-minded young Chinese cruising the boulevard, and most fantastically, our backstage snacks at many theaters include cucumber flavored potato chips!
Yes, clearly a cucumber obsession. J
And did you know…
That many Chinese do not put diapers on their babies? They believe in ‘toilet training’ (if you could call it that) from day one, so, what they do is dress these little cuties in pants or overalls that have a slit right where their bottoms are. And then, it’s Russian Roulette! Can you move the baby the few centimeters away from you that it takes to avoid being splattered, in time? Let’s see you! This phenomenon never ceases to amaze me here. The first time I saw it on a windy, rainy day in Tiananmen square I ran to the parents and tried to explain to them that their child’s pants had torn by mistake and his bottom was bare in the freezing cold! They looked at me like I was some crazy person.
Who’s crazy? I do not know. In China the word crazy takes on whole new dimensions.
What’s for sure is, the Chinese love their children. They dote on them, adore them, spoil them, invest in them, cuddle them, sacrifice everything for them. It is worthy of praise.
We were talking to a man on the airplane today. When I told him I had three children (unheard of here), he looked at me with longing in his eyes and said: you are lucky. When I tell the average European I have three children, he says: you are crazy. That sort of sums it up.
And one last anecdote:
If you are a female and have any plans of using the toilet in any place other than you very modern hotel room, you are in for a very “interesting” experience. First, prepare your gas mask. Or take a deep breath and hold it for 5 minutes, but whatever you do, don’t inhale! The scent is revolting in ways unknown to man. Second, bring toilet paper from home OR make sure you take it into the stall with you. Otherwise, its drip dry for you, girl. Third, if you were planning on wearing overalls, stockings, high heels, tight dresses, corsets, and the like…..don’t. J they don’t go well with the hole in the ground that passes for a toilet here (and that includes nice restaurants!!) Unless of course you are interested in exploring new yoga positions that will enable you to relieve yourself without getting all disgustingly splattered.
Modernity in China stops at the door of the water closet.
So, back to the tour: after Changzhou we took the train four and a half hours to Wuhan. (Chinese trains and train stations leave much to be desired).
Wuhan: yet ANOTHER big city with the combination of old slummy looking neighborhoods and new, super techy skyscrapers. The hotel smelled bad (for a change!) and the rooms were pretty scrappy. BUT, in keeping with the great Chinese tradition of just-when- you- though-you-understood-something-forget-it-‘cause-you-don’t, the concert was in a stunning hall which makes Carnegie hall in NY look like a dump, and I kid you not. All plush red seats, glimmering wooden stage, gold inlays on the walls, huge golden organ in the back, huge golden flower on the ceiling, wow! And breathtaking acoustics! natural reverberation from the source to the ear to the heart.
We had a great audience (900 people!), who were super enthusiastic (in Chinese terms of course J). After the show they were all over us and the vibe was very good. It was an uplifting experience.
At night in my room I struggled with my computer. Slow internet in most hotels makes it very difficult to use that international substitute for nearness called Skype. I saw my daughter Enea but could not hear her nor she me. Ayehli was nowhere to be found. It was frustrating to say the very least.
Truth is? I am so homesick I could just die.
China is interesting and enlightening in many ways, but I miss my kids and husband and parents and my mother’s cooking and my little baby’s smile more than I can describe. Every day I extract milk from my body (yes, I am still doing that..) in hope that she will still have something to take when I see her again…just for the warmth of it, the symbiotic joy of oneness that nothing in this life or any other can compare to. I don’t know if it will last..but I’m giving it a fight. I guess like China, I too am crazy.
Woah..its late..gotta go the to theater soon (did I mention I am now in …where am i?..yes, Chongqing.. In Szechuan province. Very modern hotel in a skyscraper forest…). Show tonight, our 6th! (3 more to go….)
No matter how confused, brokenhearted, homesick and tired I may be, the prospect of singing in a few hours, opening the doors of my heart again to let in whatever comes, and let out whatever needs to fly…. never fails to illuminate my soul. Thank you, spirit of the universe, for allowing me to do that….
To be continued…
I am back in my room after an excellent concert at the Chongqing grand theater, another monstrous edifice, 17 months old, enormous stage, ultra modern facility that makes most theaters in Europe look like outhouses. After the show, we drove by the river and had a view of Chongqing by night. We were all speechless. NY times ten. Blade-runner meets Fifth Element meets Matrix , and all smelling of fried fish.
I just saw both my girls on Skype. I couldn’t hear them, but they could hear me so I sang them “the itsy bitsy spider” and blew them kisses…
Good night all. I will send this off now. Tomorrow is a new day.
Noa, Chongqing, China, may 5 2011
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