Posts (page 2)

It's a girl's birthday. Normally, our group of four takes the birthday girl out to dinner. It's kind of like Sex and the City, except without the stupid people acting like idiots. This time around, however, the girl in question has chosen to hold her birthday celebration outdoors at a park. Now, none of us has a problem with this; in fact, I'm rather excited about it. A Saturday afternoon, 80 degrees or so (so say the weather forecasters), plenty of sun, grass, and trees. Perhaps a frisbee or two. You get the idea.

I actually rather like the way that this friend has chosen to celebrate her birthday - I'm all about taking advantage of the fact that we live in paradise at the beginning of spring. I just spent four weeks back in the place in which I was raised - more or less in the dead of winter. I don't know how people do it; I'm a tropical chick, and I need my palm trees and sunshine.

When I was growing up, few of us liked the whole outdoors thing. I always liked activities like hiking, but I had a hard time convincing my friends to come along with me. It was too inconvenient, too sweaty, too outdoorsy for most of them. Even canoeing at the C&O Canal (the canal that runs parallel to the Potomac River in Washington, DC) was too much to ask of them.

On the last day of my ninth-grade biology class, my teacher gave us a warning: don't be a sun worshipper. Yeah, we've all heard the lectures on the effects of prolonged exposure to the sun, but most of us rarely listen, right? I'll admit to being a bit of a sun worshipper. And that doesn't bother me.  

Winter was just a bad invention. What's the use of a cold season, anyway? None that I can see...

Ever heard of a condition called Seasonal Affective Disorder (aka. SAD hehehe)? Basically, SAD is a sort of temporary, seasonal (winter, of course) depression brought on by a lack of exposure to enough bright natural light. I've always maintained that there is a marked difference between exposure to natural sunlight versus to fluorescent lights such as those you might find in a classroom or some sort of industrial setting. Anyway, those individuals more sensitive to differing light levels may find themselves depressed during the winter months from the lessened exposure to bright light. This depression, so they say, manifests itself in many way - including weight gain brought on by increased intake of carbohydrates.

So where am I going with all this? Well, to use a too-often-used phrase, spring has sprung here and I find myself in paradise once again. And on days like this, how can anyone afford not to spend most of the day outside? Even those of us who either work or attend school are better served by taking our laptops outdoors and working out in the sun. As I write this, in fact, I am outside at a coffee shop enjoying the lovely weather. One of these days, I'll get myself to the beach...problem is, laptops and sand don't mix so well.

What is the point of all of this mindless drivel, you may ask? This: why stay indoors when you can be out enjoying the sun? It isn't just a case of tanning or laying out, as they call it; no, exposure to bright sunlight has even been shown to have positive effects on your health. And that's an offer that you simply cannot refuse. 

It's cold on the East Coast this time of year; whatever possessed me to return to Virginia in March, anyway? Well, lesson learned: never again, as they say.

It's the end of the month, and I have finally returned home - to a nearly-stifling 95-degree (Fahrenheit) day. But hey, anything's better than the Virginia winter chill, constant rain, and even threat of snow. This is exactly the right kind of day to be spent at the beach; a mere two blocks from my apartment here. And this isn't just any beach - this is the Mediterranean, baby. They can say whatever they want about the beaches of California and Florida, but this wins hands-down. Only the lack of a bathing suit stops me from diving into the water at the high point of the day. But one does not necessarily need to swim in order to enjoy the beach. Sunbathing is the oldest time-killer, anyway.

This is the place and the day to get out and attempt to get a tan. I got the shorter end of my mixed Semitic-Celtic family's stick: the fair skin which refuses to tan without first getting burned. This is not to say that I don't try: sunscreen is your friend, people. But even sunscreen doesn't protect my skin well enough. Well, no matter: it's a hot day, the beach is here, and I have plenty of reading material and new sunglasses.

And who says that you must be making good use of your time at all times, anyway? Isn't there something to be said for simply resting on the beach doing nothing at all for a few hours?  That's the American voice within us, always whispering efficiency, efficiency. The rest of the world understands the impulse to just enjoy the moment; America just doesn't quite get the hang of it. Everything has to move so quickly - even in restaurants, you're brought your check as soon as you indicate that you're finished. Where I live, you won't get your check until you ask for it. This is the case at least in Europe, the Middle East, and Latin America. It's just a healthier lifestyle in general, I think.

The place was a hostel, rather than a hotel; therefore, it was considerably less fancy that the Crown Plaza, Dan Panorama, and others which were only a stone's throw away. But we're graduate students so this is the life that we live. Nevertheless, the place was nice (as hostels go). The best part, however, was that the room that we stayed in had two large windows. As soon as we checked into the room, I opened both windows, leaned out one and admired the view - the airport and highway north on one side, the Promenade and beach in front of the mountains of Aqaba on the other. It's February, yet the Red Sea coast was warm, and we were happy to get away from our respective apartments, and our respective assignments yet to be written.

The best part of traveling (on vacation, that is) is the lack of responsibility inherent in such trips. You're there to have fun, and as such can relax in a way that you never can at home surrounded by family, work, or school. Leaning out that window and breathing the warm air was in a way liberating - it let in the sun and the fresh air and allowed the room to be infused with the environment around it. It is always best to be outside when you can, anyway.

The best part was that we had the next 24 hours ahead of us to walk, relax on the beach, admire the scenery, or do whatever else we wanted. And I looked out at the deep aquamarine of the Red Sea on such a beautiful day and considered myself lucky. After all, how many people get here? And I live in this country and can come here any time I want. 

I have a friend who regularly sends me packages full of various little things, almost all of them purple. This morning, I received a package which contained, among other things, coffee-themed socks, instant snow (just add water!), a ring in a pretty little box, a card-holder, and a small piece of art entitled "Winter Moment."

As I am about to travel back to the United States to visit, I started thinking of what I might put together for her. She, as you may have guessed from the socks, is a bit of a coffee addict. This makes her super-hyper, but it also makes her easy to shop for in the Middle East. I'm thinking of getting her several different kinds of coffee - a few packages of Turkish coffee, some ground espresso, and maybe a few other things, including possibly a small specialty silver coffee kettle. I'm going to take all of these, wrap them carefully in bubble wrap and wrapping paper, and stow them in my carry-on bag for safe-keeping on an 11-hour flight back to New York. Almost everyone, not just her, is getting coffee this time around.

I think that shopping is a girl gene, so if you guys are not amused by this, I apologize. It's fun for us women to try and envision things that our friends might love, and them going out and putting them together. I have another friend who is a painter who I love buying gifts for, because I can hunt for the smallest most funky-looking things, and she'll love them. I got her a small string of Jerusalem pottery bells.

The best part, however, is the look on the friend's face when he/she opens the package. :) 

Just last week, while in Eilat with a friend, I had the pleasure of a rare encounter. I was born and raised in a Northeastern culture in the States, so I don't talk to strangers under any circumstances. My friend, however, is from the Midwest and is far more comfortable being friendly to people. She'll chat up anyone. As we were sitting outside in Eilat, having just gotten off of a 5-hour bus ride, she said hello to someone who turned out to be an American tourist from Seattle, Washington.

And it doesn't end there. My friend is a military history fan (working on getting into a PhD program in Military History for the Civil War) and this man revealed that he had been a colonel in the United States Infantry Corps. A few minutes later, he revealed to us the real treat: he had fought in World War 2, and not only that - he had taken part in the Normandy Landing! (101st Airborne, Utah Beach)

It isn't every day that you meet someone who seems to jump off of the pages of your high school history books. For those of us in our 20s, World War 2 is something that we know (especially as Jews); we know the name "Normandy" and we know its significance. However, few of us ever get to meet someone who participated in one of those historic events. It was a real treat for both of us.

And it only gets sweeter. An Israeli sitting nearby, security personnel on a Birthright trip, happened to overhear the conversation, and turned to this man, and said "sir, I would like to thank you."

After another 20 minutes or so of conversation, we ourselves thanked him, and got up to leave.

Last winter, I was helping my Christian roommates find Christmas decorations for the mini-tree that they had set up in our kitchen. As a Jew, this was a first for me: I had never approved of lusting after Christmas decorations like some of my Jewish friends in the States once had. But now that we were living in Tel Aviv, I deemed it ok to help my roommates with their decorations.

It was a December night in Jerusalem and I was surprised to find that it felt much like a December night in Virginia; cold and windy. The Old City at night can be a little scary - much of it is closed and there aren't many people around. In the Christian Quarter, we managed to find an American-style Christmas store, and I waited for my roommate to find the decorations that she wanted.

Once she had gotten what she deemed enough, we walked from the Old City up Jaffa Street and detoured off onto Ben Yehuda Street. Who knew that they decorate Jerusalem the same way that they decorate DC in December? Ben-Yehuda Street was covered in strings of white icicle lights much as the streets of DC always are in winter. And the lights, combined with the freezing night, reminded me entirely of being back on the East Coast in December as one of the few Jews in a world of Christians. But here, as part of the majority, the sensation was simply odd. This is not a Christian country, yet here it felt like the Christmas season that I was used to in the States.

Nonetheless, it was quite beautiful - one of the few times that cold air feels good. And this was all on a "school night." The hour trip either way got us back home quite late, but watching my roommates put up their decorations turned the house from a nearly-empty apartment to a place that had some character and some style. 

In this industry, you must look the part. The skirt was short and black, offset by black tights and red heels of the kind that professional Latin dancers wear. The top was a diagonally-cut piece of red fabric, with tied straps over one shoulder and nothing over the other shoulder. Earlier in the day, I had cut a red flower from my own yard and managed to arrange it so that I could clip it into my dark hair. My skin is quite pale, my eyes are dark blue, and my hair is nearly jet black. I knew that this was a dramatic combination, so I went with a lot of red in order to accent it. The top was red, the shoes were red, the flower was red, and I painted my lips red as well. CoverGirl makes this amazing lip-gloss called WetSlicks, in all shades of pink, red, and more. The beauty of this lip gloss is that it gives the lips incredible color, it doesn't come right off, and it smells like candy.

The announcer calls the heat: the dance itself, the level, and the numbers of each couple. My partner has his number pinned on a white paper card on the back of his jacket. As our number is called, we walk gracefully hand-in-hand, with arms out, onto the floor. He pushes my hand slightly - my cue to spin a slight distance away from him and then come back. We bow to each other as the music begins. as is customary, even in Latin dance (in the ballroom world, that is - if you do it in a club, someone might think that you are crazy). The music starts...I love salsa. There is nothing more exciting in the world. A quick-tempo dance with syncopated rhythm. The trick here is to stay close to your partner and always maintain that eye contact. The eye contact is essential: that is what will make clear to an audience or a judge that you are dancing together.

Remember that last scene from Dance With Me in which Ruby and Rafael dance to "Yorbu Lindo" at the club? Remember what made that dance so great? Communication between partners. 

It was one of those days; somewhere between winter and spring, comfortable enough without being either too hot or too cold, and not a cloud in the sky. We were wandering aimlessly in the city, somewhere between Adams Morgan and DuPont Circle. The city has quite a lot of green space for a city; there are parks in almost every neighborhood. In one such park, closer to DuPont Circle, we heard noises; it sounded like percussion. As we walked closer to those sounds, we realized that there was a drum circle set up on the grass in the park. There was a sign above them: the King David Peace Drummers. I knew of these guys. They are Israelis, peaceniks who dress like Bedouins and take their drum circle around the world. They usually set up in a public place and anyone who wants to is invited to take a drum and join in.

Having had some experience in playing Arab-style percussion, that is exactly what I did. My friends were a little more reluctant; the culture of this city (and, I would argue, that of the entire Northeast) does not encourage paying attention to other people. However, when people started dancing in the center of the circle, I forced my drum on one of them and got up to dance myself.  Look at us, I though, a bunch of hippie peace-nik types playing drums and dancing on the lawn in the center of such a conservative city. Yet maybe that was the point: to slowly melt the ice of conservatism and draw people in to each other. And after all, we were just making music and dancing - a far cry from anything illegal or even anything scandalous. So why not?

Liyana is a Palestinian-American high school student born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri with her Palestinian father and her American mother. At the age of 14, her parents move her and her brother Rafik from their home in Missouri to a new house on the road between Jerusalem and Ramallah.

As she adjusts to her new home, Liyana likes to notice the small things first. She likes to notice the colors of the grass and the shapes on the leaves of trees and the shapes of buildings before moving on to people.

It is Liyana's new Israeli friend Omer who tells her mother that he likes to wander inside and outside his own head. She understands instantly what it is that draws them together. 

People like Liyana and Omer make the world a far more interesting place. Go someplace - alone. Find a place and sit and quietly observe what is around you. Keep your eyes open - look at colors and shapes. See if you can find something that looks like something else - or that could look like something else if photographed or drawn from a certain angle. Consider yourself, consider your family...what does this place evoke? Take out your camera, take a few shots and see what comes out.

It's something like meditation, but without the mind-clearing exercises; some of us were never capable of those, anyway. This is the easy version - start with something simple and build on it. No need to contort oneself into weird positions - just sit. Or stand, if you prefer.  It's a different kind of quiet - the kind of quiet in which the mind works at an interesting pace, but the person says little to nothing.

The effects of such an exercise are surprising, refreshing - and perhaps more significant than partying or clubbing.