Oh, The Places You'll Go! (part 2) - Oh, The Thing's You'll Eat!

If you would judge a man by the food he eats, then consider me a king. Just a few days now into my trip to Israel and I've been fed salty and sweet, tough and tender. I want for neither flavor nor texture, having been reacquainted with the traditional foods of my people...the Yemenites.

I'll not list each and every tasty morsel in alphabetical, regional, or chronological order, but I will take a moment to share with you one of the finer treats I've had the pleasure to imbibe. 

As with most cultures, coffee is an integral part of the Israeli day-to-day activity. Not wanting to feel left out of the Zionist movement, the Starbuck's corporate machine has set up camp among the nomads and delivered nothing but the highest grade cookie-cutter machiatto's and vente-soy-chai-latte's with whip cream. 

For the more selective palatte, however, there remains the tried and true black (as in mud, as in soot, as in the deep, dark recesses of space) coffee with a local spice known simply as cha-wa-ij. I can't tell you what it's made of, or who discovered it, or even where to buy it, but I can tell you that it takes ordinary coffee not only to the next level, but to the next dimension as well.

"The key to making good coffee," my dad told me the other day, "is to take your time. Take care in measuring out the ingredients (coffee, sugar, chawaij). Be attentive, and even cautious, in pouring the hot water, allowing time for the slow introduction of liquid and solid so that the two can become like lovers, conjoined elements of passion, and not just roommates sharing the same receptacle. Lastly, be mindful when you sip, not of the temperature, but of the flavor."

"We are all made of ingredients, our bodies are brewed from a recipe, and just as you would not want for someone to take away your pleasure at being you, so should you not take away from the coffee's own enjoyment of it's very existence."

A cup of coffee can turn your day around, and a day can turn your week around, and so on, and so on.

Oh, the places you'll go! (part 1)

I've arrived in Israel....finally!

Having set off on Monday afternoon from Los Angeles, I finally landed in Tel Aviv on Wednesday night. The long and short of it is that my flight from LA was delayed by two hours, which left me stranded in Atlanta having missed my connecting flight by a mere twenty minutes.

Ho-hum.

I'm now sitting in my father's ground floor apartment, a small studio that's just big enough, and am thrilled at the connectivity I am enjoying half-way around the world.

It's not yet sunk in that I'm going to be away from my life for the next three weeks. Maybe I'm in denial, maybe I'm not really all that gone, but I've certainly not relinquished the many concerns that come hand-in-hand with every day living. Work, bills, choices, work, bills, choices...

The language barrier still proves an obstacle as my brain struggles to switch to Hebrew. So far, I'm translating words and concepts from one language to another and vice versa. Eventually I'll be seamlessly switching from one to the other, not using a filter for both. I wouldn't be surprised if these posts become more incoherent as my hebrew improves....it's just a matter of time.

In a few hours, we're heading out to a family barbecue, where I will become reacquainted with aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children.  It's always awkward the first time around as I try desperately to remember the names of the many kids who seem to grow up exponentially to the years I am away.

I'm also, slowly, weaning myself off the internet. I will be without this alluring collection of one's and zero's for the next three days and I can't remember the last time a day went by in which I did not once check my e-mail.

Should the system crash while I'm not looking, know that I love you all dearly and that in a post-internet world, I will update my Facebook status by carrier pigeon.

End of line.

THIS JUST IN - WHITE PEOPLE LOVE NEIL DIAMOND!

...OK, so maybe this isn't news to anyone, but it's still worth mentioning. 

I went to see Neil Diamond a few days ago at the Hollywood Bowl. For those of you not familiar with the 'Bowl, it's one of the finest venues in the L.A. area. It's an outdoor theater nestled in the Hollywood Hills. The acoustics are such that the quiet moments are truly quiet, and the loud parts are crystal clear.

The down side of the 'Bowl is that it's, for the most part, bench seating. Which means the only thing that defines your seat from someone else's, is a number etched into the wood. There are no elbow rests or butt-curves to help separate you from your neighbor. 

We had arrived a little late due to traffic and so the lights were out and Neil was on. Our seats were dead-set in the middle of a row of forty people. After wading our way past the many older, whiter, couples just sitting back and enjoying the show, we finally found a teeny-tiny little break between two...large...fellows.

There was barely enough space for me to sit down, let alone the two of us. We had to, literally, squeeze ourselves onto the bench. I heard a few cues of distress and disdain from those around us as a ripple of activity moved down the row and into the aisle. In order to fit ourselves into the seats we had paid for, we had to dislodge a few dozen people. It was at the same time uncomfortable and embarrassing.

I spent the rest of the show sharing much of my exposed flesh with the gentleman to my left. If he was Alaska, I was Canada (insert Palin joke here). This isn't the first time I've been in this situation, and I doubt it will be the last. However, I think it's important to note that if you find yourself sitting in a shared, public space with poorly defined boundaries,  please keep in mind your fellow attendee has as much right to comfort as you.  It is not inappropriate for him/her to ask you to make some room and I encourage you to ask those around you to do the same.

I believe that had those to my left continued pressing those to THEIR left for more room, the whole of us would have enjoyed a measured amount of personal space. Instead, I was made to feel as though I was some sort of no-goodnik. A rude so-and-so who was asking more than I had a right to.

Of course, this could all have been avoided had the Hollywood bowl reduced the number of seats on the bench by one...just one! But that's another story all together.