West Bank 3: Separation Barrier

Once again, to the West Bank trips last Spring...

The most affecting thing I saw in Palestine was the "other side" of the cement separation barrier (the wall erected on various portions of the Green Line) turned into an enormous scroll of vernacular art and commentary. Some funny, some tragic, some ironic, some poetically touching and hopeful. This is a rare and powerful instance of cultural awareness turned into a living artwork for all to see. I'll write notes for some, but the pictures speak the best. Enlarge for the best detail.

This section actually has the menu for the restaurant across the way on the left-hand side.








Kennedy's words on this portion:



The wall circumnavigates this house. I saw a young girl playing in the back yard here.



Below the tower:


And above:


This is the main road:

And this is where the road ends up, 180 degrees from the above shot:



Close-up of the vertical checkpoint door, which is suspended about six inches off the ground:






This gives you an idea about the scale:







Finally, two dissimilar quotes with similar ideas:

Shana Tova

Today marks the eve of Rosh Hashanah, or the Jewish new year. It commemorates the creation of Man, and begins the high holidays or the "Days of Awe", a ten-day period which concludes with Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement. This is the time to take stock of your deeds for the last year and "mend fences" -- according to the Talmud, God makes all judgments on Rosh Hashanah, but people have 10 days to turn a bad year around until the judgments are sealed on Yom Kippur.

In Israel, this New Year is a much bigger deal than the calendar "new year" of January 1st. Everyone says "Shana Tova" (A Good Year) to everybody else (I even got it from the ticket booth worker at the movies yesterday). This evening, I'll be at a traditional New Years' dinner at our middle school secretary's house, which I greatly look forward to, even with battling traffic to and from Kfar Saba.

So, I wish each of you a Good Year, and I'll close with a slice of an essay from one of my favorite writers, who investigates the idea of the new year from his perspective of a cabin in Vermont:

-----

September, this is when the year begins. So say we Jews, and so say we theatricals and schoolchildren.

The year begins when it turns cold. This is the start of intellectual activity.

The day, as in the Bible, begins at dusk -- it begins not with birth, in the spring, but with conception. In the autumn. The leaves fall from the trees, expelled by the first beginnings of the new bud. That is when the year begins.

Just as the day begins with rest, with reflection, with knitting up, as the Bard said, of the sinews for a new thing.

The day, the season, life, begins with a dream, in quiet and cold.

...

What greater perception of peace than the depth of the woods at twenty below, when the power of rest, the beautiful completion of death, infuses one with an overwhelming sense of order.

David Mamet - "The School Year" from South of the Northeast Kingdom

World-Class Home Fries: A Primer

There is nothing like a fried potato.

I make the following recipe for home-fried potatoes at least once a week. The success of home fries lies in the technique and timing, not in any fancy-pants ingredients or accompaniments.

Ingredients:

Olive Oil for frying
Red potatoes (2 medium potatoes yields a good serving)
Salt
Prosciutto or other thin cured meat (optional)

Preparation:

Wash and dry the potatoes with the skins still on. Red potatoes work best because they're a "waxy" kind of potato instead of a "starchy" kind like a russet. Cut them up into cubes a little bigger than dice (3/4" or so).

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat, and pour in enough olive oil to just coat the entire bottom of the pan.

Once the oil starts to really get going (a bit of rippling and smoke) add the cut potatoes, tossing them a few times to coat, and sprinkle on some salt. Every potato piece should fully touch the surface of the oil as they sizzle.


Now, the important technique: LEAVE THEM ALONE. No flipping or stirring for several minutes; this allows the magnificent gold crust to form, which is key to successful home fries.

Once you see a golden brown color coming up on the potatoes from the bottom of the pan, it is time to turn them. Use your implement to flip each potato so it's resting on a different side than before. They should have shrunk a little bit in the last few minutes, making this easier. Salt again, and let them be!


After several more minutes of frying on a different side, the potatoes should be close to done. Stab one out and taste it -- it should be crispy on the outside and have a kind of creamy consistency in the center. If they're still not done, let them go a little more.


Once they're where you want them, add the slices of cured meat (or a bit earlier, if the cured meat is thick-sliced.) This will heat the meat up and cook it a bit, but just slightly -- You don't want cured meat with the consistency of shrapnel in your home fries.

Slide the fries onto your plate or bowl, lightly salt once more, and you're done!


A note about seasonings: the flavor of a just-fried potato is, by itself, a glorious thing. Maybe a touch of ketchup or Tabasco if that's your scene, but try them by themselves first to see what you're missing.

Life in Tel Aviv

After a year of living in the suburbs of Herzliyya up north, I decided to move to a small apartment in the heart of Tel Aviv. It takes twice as long (~30 minutes) to commute to school, and about 40 minutes on the way home. Here's a photo of my building from Rothschild Boulevard; the windows on the ground floor are my unit:


Finding an apartment in TA is based on a combination of connections (i.e. knowing a landlord or someone who is moving out) and sheer freak luck. In my case, this apartment had been in the school family for three years, and when the last teacher took off, I asked for his lease. It's about the same size as the place I left in Seattle near Portage Bay in 2008:


There's even a bit of a kitchen. The oven works, the hot plates work, the fridge works. What more could anyone ask for?


The street-front window has a roll-down wooden shade (most modern ones are made of metal) to keep out the heat and provide some privacy in the evenings. I keep it open on the weekends to get some light in here:


The view from one of the windows:


The chair and ottoman. Good place to decompress after a day at the farm.


Entryway:


The boulevard itself. Probably the most pleasant street in the city. It cuts a curved northern line through the southeastern part of the city. Benches, bicycles, and walkers down the center, and some trees so they don't get fried by the sun. I love seeing this when I walk to my car in the mornings.



Tons of old-and-new around here in some great juxtapositions -- take either era away and it's not the same. Here are some 1920s buildings with the looming financial towers behind them.



Moses. Kind of like the Red Robin of Israel. Great burgers and a disturbing mascot.



This is a few blocks south on the same street. The yoga studio I'm going to is on the third floor, on the right (the three open arch windows).


Public art - it's a green chair on a giant green platform that is illuminated by a spotlight at night. I haven't yet summoned the chutzpah to sit in it.


Every so often there's a kiosk in the center of the boulevard. Lots of people hang out at these for hours, especially in the afternoon after work.



5 minutes up the street and around a corner is a Tiv Ta'am in the City -- a kind of mini-grocery. They have nearly everything, including a meat and cheese counter. Walking for groceries might be one of the best things about city living.


In order to have their excellent selection, Tiv Ta'am has to cram everything in the submarine-like store. It's there; you just have to look for it.



Cafe Noir is around the corner on Ahad Ha'am. They are an immensely popular and very friendly diner. I usually cruise over here on Saturday mornings for a breakfast of eggs, veggies, bread and jam, salad, juice, and coffee for about NIS 46 ($12-13).


There's no dedicated parking for my place, so I usually circle for a spot two or three times. You can kind of see the line of cars in this photo. My parallel-parking skills are becoming almost Jedi-like with daily practice.

In the foreground, this is a cage for recycling plastic bottles; there are a lot because of the volume of water people drink.


The Hitchcockian main stairwell of my building. The laundry facilities are on the roof. I do all the laundry I can on Sunday while most people are at work.


And, the roof! Lots of places in the city have rooftop "gardens" (minus the plants) and this is a great place to be once the sun goes down and the laundry is finishing up.




Finally, if you want to see the layout of the places in the neighborhood, here's a Google Map:


View Harvey's Tel Aviv 2009 in a larger map

(If the embedded map doesn't work, it can also be found at:
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=105868027483503687570.000470afc6b0d599b2ab3&z=15)