So all those political muckety-mucks might have shipped off to Annapolis for negotiations, but just because I don't get free flights off public coffers doesn't mean I can't help make peace, too. Thanks to Pennsylvania-based Impact Games, I can "Play the News. Solve the Puzzle" with its interactive CD release, PeaceMaker. In conjunction with the summit, the company and the Peres Center for Peace sent 100,000 free copies to subscribers of the Israeli newspaper Ha'aretz. Unfortunately, I didn't get one, probably because I subscribe to the English-language edition, and there's already been enough worthless American and British intervention in many people's eyes. Luckily, one of my students brought the video game to school. This, my friends, is what educators call a teachable moment, otherwise known as "I'd rather not do my actual lesson plan," so I spent the first half of my first class installing and testing out the simulation.
Here's the setup: You can pick to be the Palestinian President or the Israeli Prime Minister (or let the game choose for you) in a calm, tense, or violent scenario level. You enter into a virtual Israel, where real incidents from the past reoccur, as shown through newspaper articles and television footage, but you get the option to try a different reaction. The main responses are political or security. One option under security was assassinating an opposition leader; one under political was giving a speech to the international media. As you react, you get input from public opinion polls, both in and out of the country, and from advisers, called The Hawk and The Dove. You win the game if you respond appropriately to achieve a "two-state solution."
It's this "solution" that I take issue with, not the typical criticism that this is oversimplifying a complicated issue. Indeed, a simplification could just be the ticket to a solution. But how does one come up with the way to win the game when the simulated outcome has never occurred in reality? In truth, you win the game if you figure out how the makers presume that peace could be established. Their presumption rests on a few assumptions about human nature, all listed on the game's Web site, www.peacemakergame.com: 1) "You can make a difference," 2) "Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the possible," and 3) "The other side wants peace too." The real humans involved might be contrary to these assumptions: 1) They do not care to make a difference, 2) They are unable or unwilling to compromise, and 3) They do not want a solution. These variables, I think, would be more apt as level choices instead of those based on external conflict factors; they could be labeled apathetic, resolute, and antagonistic.
As a teacher, I do see this as a great conversation starter, a way to reveal some assumptions we ourselves make about the peace process. In fact, researchers at Carnegie Mellon are examining how prior vs. deeper knowledge impacts players' decisions. But until these human influences are taken into account, this game should never be examined as a way to solve the actual Mideast peace puzzle. The good news is, Impact Games says one of its next ventures will be to take the game online, so people from all over the world -- and from all perspectives, apathetic, resolute, antagonistic and beyond -- can play the fantasy football version of foreign relations. Now that's the kind of negotiations I can see President Bush getting into, even after office.
Until then, if you have access to this game in any way, please tell me if and how you manage to "beat" it. And I don't mean with any of those silly codes you find in gaming magazines. If there were a secret passage to ultimate peace, like getting three levels ahead in Mario Brothers, I would hope we would have found -- and taken -- it already. I don't believe this is a game where there is any pride or accomplishment in taking the longest path to rack up the most points.
28 November, 2007
12 November, 2007
O Israel, your prophets have been like foxes among ruins (Ezekiel 13:4)
I spoke too soon. One of my first posts on this blog was a rail against the CNN effect. This effect is nothing compared to Fox News fallout. Recently, my cable provider, HOT (yes, you actually have a choice here), took CNN off the air because the company rejected a hike in the news channel's subscription fee. At first, I was happy, cheering HOT on as it stuck it to the international "man." But that was before the the cable provider elected to replace CNN with Fox News.
If CNN gave a skewed perspective of global situations, Fox News gives a perverted one. Two of the first stories I saw gave proof for the assertions in "Outfoxed," the movie detailing the network's questionable journalistic practices. First, there was Fox News's version of "Fear Factor," in which anchors report the slightest inkling of a terrorist threat with a banner of something like "Malls targeted for attack" and a small disclaimer of "report says." This was a week ago, and I'm not aware of any suicide bombings at Sears. Next, there was the channel's version of "Rob & Big," except it was the "George & Dick" show, labeling even the most mundane appearances in the president's schedule "breaking news." The one I saw was Bush urging soldiers at an American military base to continue to "stay the course" in Iraq; obviously, such a speech had not been given in at least a month so it must garner full attention.
Two other phenomena emerged as I watched coverage from abroad. First, my boyfriend pointed out that a lot of the short spots called "Fox Spotlights" and "Fox Features" are actually underhanded attempts to make liberal segments of the population look foolish. The two topics I saw: people who stare at the sun to gain energy and a man who donated teddy bears to be distributed to child victims of traffic accidents. The weight of these acts was presented so straight-forwardly that they became sardonic. The channel's priorities obviously are out of whack, making the serious seem silly and the silly seem serious. Second, because I usually watch the news in the morning, the broadcast is what is on during the middle of the night in the States. This time slot includes a show called "Red Eye," which is basically "Inside Edition" and "eXtra" combined with a host conceited enough to call his online blog a "Greg-a-logue." Problem is, on the show, entertainment fluff stories about Paris Hilton and Britney Spears are presented in the same format as regular news. Not only does America come off paranoid of terrorist attacks but also servile to superficial celebrities.
I can only imagine what the overseas audience thinks of America when this late-night trash presents a panel discussion on Steven Colbert's presidential bid in South Carolina, on presumably the morning news. Don't we already have enough of a rep as a country with a puppet president? (Not that I think Colbert would be any more of a puppet than Bush; at least he's pulling his own strings along with our legs.) CNN, on the other hand, presented the same issue on its version of "The Daily Show." I know, I know, I criticized CNN for blurring the line between news and comedy before, but at least Jon Stewart's commentary was backed by obvious audience laughter.
In the end, I am, of course, just as hypocritical as Fox News. I don't like CNN, but I don't like the alternative, either. I'm whinier than Sean Hannity after a Clinton stump speech. But at least my criticism of the two channels is "fair and balanced": They both suck.
If CNN gave a skewed perspective of global situations, Fox News gives a perverted one. Two of the first stories I saw gave proof for the assertions in "Outfoxed," the movie detailing the network's questionable journalistic practices. First, there was Fox News's version of "Fear Factor," in which anchors report the slightest inkling of a terrorist threat with a banner of something like "Malls targeted for attack" and a small disclaimer of "report says." This was a week ago, and I'm not aware of any suicide bombings at Sears. Next, there was the channel's version of "Rob & Big," except it was the "George & Dick" show, labeling even the most mundane appearances in the president's schedule "breaking news." The one I saw was Bush urging soldiers at an American military base to continue to "stay the course" in Iraq; obviously, such a speech had not been given in at least a month so it must garner full attention.
Two other phenomena emerged as I watched coverage from abroad. First, my boyfriend pointed out that a lot of the short spots called "Fox Spotlights" and "Fox Features" are actually underhanded attempts to make liberal segments of the population look foolish. The two topics I saw: people who stare at the sun to gain energy and a man who donated teddy bears to be distributed to child victims of traffic accidents. The weight of these acts was presented so straight-forwardly that they became sardonic. The channel's priorities obviously are out of whack, making the serious seem silly and the silly seem serious. Second, because I usually watch the news in the morning, the broadcast is what is on during the middle of the night in the States. This time slot includes a show called "Red Eye," which is basically "Inside Edition" and "eXtra" combined with a host conceited enough to call his online blog a "Greg-a-logue." Problem is, on the show, entertainment fluff stories about Paris Hilton and Britney Spears are presented in the same format as regular news. Not only does America come off paranoid of terrorist attacks but also servile to superficial celebrities.
I can only imagine what the overseas audience thinks of America when this late-night trash presents a panel discussion on Steven Colbert's presidential bid in South Carolina, on presumably the morning news. Don't we already have enough of a rep as a country with a puppet president? (Not that I think Colbert would be any more of a puppet than Bush; at least he's pulling his own strings along with our legs.) CNN, on the other hand, presented the same issue on its version of "The Daily Show." I know, I know, I criticized CNN for blurring the line between news and comedy before, but at least Jon Stewart's commentary was backed by obvious audience laughter.
In the end, I am, of course, just as hypocritical as Fox News. I don't like CNN, but I don't like the alternative, either. I'm whinier than Sean Hannity after a Clinton stump speech. But at least my criticism of the two channels is "fair and balanced": They both suck.
23 October, 2007
Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline (Revelation 3:19)
Up until now, I have not-so-subtlely rubbed the benefits of my school in your digital faces. But cynical skeptics like myself must find the bad in everything. And at my school it is this: lack of discipline. As the title of this post suggests, I only share my thoughts on this topic in an attempt to share my love for this school's students -- or I'm just annoyed.
I've never been one for enforcing rules, especially those that seem petty. It was a known fact that I was not a part of the flip-flop intifada at my last school, never reporting the wearing of said footwear to administrators and in fact flaunting my own during in-service days. But I have always agreed that some rules should be enacted to preserve the stability of a community. Even if people often don't like the rules, they sometimes like to know on which side of the law they stand.
In an hour I will leave on a three-day field trip with a group of high-schoolers. It has been clearly issued that every student MUST bring and wear a hat to avoid sunburn and/or sunstroke. But the powers that be have refused to issue a ruling that students MUST NOT smoke during the trip, even though it is not allowed on campus.
The first argument is that those old enough should be allowed to smoke because we are not on the smoke-free campus. I posit that the rules of a community should follow that community, even if they go "off campus." After all, the school rule against drinking, which supersedes the national legal age of 18 (the same as for smoking), remains in effect.
So the second argument arises: If you acknowledge smoking as an addiction, you don't want to bar students from a trip because of a "health condition." Of course, I can easily point out that alcoholism also is an addiction, so we should bend that rule as well. But more importantly (and yes, I would've been a hypocrite at one point in my life for saying this), if you can't go three days without tobacco to enjoy a get-out-of-school-free trip, then by all means, stay home and chain-smoke.
In the end, what is most bothersome is that there seems to be acknowledgment that both arguments are without validity, that this is to avoid confrontation with some students and parents. The school is bowing to a minority -- a small one, at that -- to assuage dissent. Which brings us to the third argument: Is it appropriate to enforce a don't ask-don't tell rule on smoking without informing the parents of all the nonsmokers that this will be the policy? I'm sure many parents are assuming that the same rules at school apply on school trips, which certainly isn't unthinkable. At least in the military, soldiers know that the GI Joe in the next bunk might be jonesing for the same sex.
But this is the way of this school -- and perhaps the country: smooth sailing is valued over rocky negotiation, perhaps because the latter hasn't often led to the former in the past. But man, does that rub my American sense of imposition wrong. Truly, I don't care if I catch a whiff of smoke, even during a lovely restaurant meal, but I don't want to have to play the heavy if the smokers overstep their bounds. It's just so much easier to blame the administration. Natch.
I've never been one for enforcing rules, especially those that seem petty. It was a known fact that I was not a part of the flip-flop intifada at my last school, never reporting the wearing of said footwear to administrators and in fact flaunting my own during in-service days. But I have always agreed that some rules should be enacted to preserve the stability of a community. Even if people often don't like the rules, they sometimes like to know on which side of the law they stand.
In an hour I will leave on a three-day field trip with a group of high-schoolers. It has been clearly issued that every student MUST bring and wear a hat to avoid sunburn and/or sunstroke. But the powers that be have refused to issue a ruling that students MUST NOT smoke during the trip, even though it is not allowed on campus.
The first argument is that those old enough should be allowed to smoke because we are not on the smoke-free campus. I posit that the rules of a community should follow that community, even if they go "off campus." After all, the school rule against drinking, which supersedes the national legal age of 18 (the same as for smoking), remains in effect.
So the second argument arises: If you acknowledge smoking as an addiction, you don't want to bar students from a trip because of a "health condition." Of course, I can easily point out that alcoholism also is an addiction, so we should bend that rule as well. But more importantly (and yes, I would've been a hypocrite at one point in my life for saying this), if you can't go three days without tobacco to enjoy a get-out-of-school-free trip, then by all means, stay home and chain-smoke.
In the end, what is most bothersome is that there seems to be acknowledgment that both arguments are without validity, that this is to avoid confrontation with some students and parents. The school is bowing to a minority -- a small one, at that -- to assuage dissent. Which brings us to the third argument: Is it appropriate to enforce a don't ask-don't tell rule on smoking without informing the parents of all the nonsmokers that this will be the policy? I'm sure many parents are assuming that the same rules at school apply on school trips, which certainly isn't unthinkable. At least in the military, soldiers know that the GI Joe in the next bunk might be jonesing for the same sex.
But this is the way of this school -- and perhaps the country: smooth sailing is valued over rocky negotiation, perhaps because the latter hasn't often led to the former in the past. But man, does that rub my American sense of imposition wrong. Truly, I don't care if I catch a whiff of smoke, even during a lovely restaurant meal, but I don't want to have to play the heavy if the smokers overstep their bounds. It's just so much easier to blame the administration. Natch.
07 October, 2007
This is the best of the land ... because it is holy to the Lord (Ezekiel 48:14)
Every day, the newspapers are espousing what Israel has done or is doing wrong (um, yea, about that bombing Syria thing), so in the interest of fair and balanced coverage (just call me Fox News), I thought I would share some of the things that I think Israel is doing right:
The bus system: With only a burgeoning train network, the bus lines have become extremely efficient. You can get in between major cities on a daily basis and across town in a major city within an hour. But the best part is the location of bus stops; pull-offs alongside highways are accessible from walking paths into the neighborhoods, so the buses can maximize pick-ups without having to wind through residential streets (which, incidentally, are not among the things Israel does right). And if Egged's bus schedule doesn't fit yours, sheruts, or community taxis, run the same lines. No more running to the stop, because a sherut is likely a few minutes behind the bus.
Plastic and glass recycling: You might not easily find a garbage can along the street, but if you walk a couple of blocks, you're certain to run into a large green cage for depositing plastic bottles. Most of them are more than half-full, so it would seem Israelis are way ahead of the eco-game or recycling collection workers are way behind. Glass bottles run Michigan-style; if you buy beer by the case, you return the empties to the supermarket when you pick up your next party pack. Paper products are a different story. Napkins, cigarettes, and newspapers become beachside tumbleweed. This, I'm sure, is the only reason Gore beat this environmentally-minded country for the Nobel prize.
Car security: In my old car, I had a blinking LED light on my dashboard; presumably, would-be thieves would think it was a security system and head to the next car (not that the car being a Ford Focus wasn't deterrent enough). In Israel, there is still a blinking light, but it's accompanied by a keypad where you must punch in a code before you can start your car. It's amazing how much moving this small device from the lock to the ignition increases the chances that my Hyundai Getz (the Toyota Camry of Israel) will not get hotwired.
Buffet breakfasts and business lunches: The former is usually included with the cost of a hotel room, and the latter is usually less than $20, and both are generous. The breakfasts will offer fruits, vegetables, cheeses, pastries, eggs, and drinks (Pancakes and French toast aren't big here; bagel and lox are). The lunches will come with a starter, main course, and drink. And lucky for me, Sunday is a work day for the Israelis, so I can leech off the working stiffs on my day off.
Irrigation agriculture: Speaking of food, I wasn't expecting much in terms of fresh produce when I realized I was coming to a desert. But my first bite of watermelon immediately changed my mind; it was the most juicy and flavorful piece I had ever tasted. And that's not all. The same goes for kiwis, peaches, mangos, and avocados. This is a result of that ingenius and innovative Israeli Simcha Blass, who invented drip irrigation. The idea not only opened Israel to agriculture, it also promoted the conservation of water in an area lacking in available groundwater. Sadly, water supplies are continuing to be drained (pun intended), so the country needs a new Simcha to lead hydroliberation.
Urban planning: When I hear the words "industrial zone," I think of the smokestacks on the Ohio River surrounded by the vast dumping grounds of the Meadowlands. But in Israel, industrial zones are centralized areas where workers toil in the upper floors of skyscraping office buildings by day then head down to the ground floors to eat, drink, and shop by night. These mini-downtowns provide a way to draw traffic and noise away from residential neighborhoods. Of course, this causes congestion in the industrial zones themselves, but hey, if you grab a parking space in the morning, your car can stay there through happy hour and beyond.
Chilling out: Israel is good at incorporating the best of other cultures into its own. It has effectively stolen the afternoon siesta from Spain, for example. From about 2 to 4 p.m., offices, banks, and some stores shut down, so everyone can kick back with a mid-afternoon snack. And even better, for many adults, that snack is an ice cream novelty bar and coffee; does it get any better than a Nestle Crunch bar dipped in cappuccino? Only about five hours later, the same people will reconvene the relaxation at restaurants, where no obtrusive servers are trying to turn tables. Of course, that means you aren't going to get a table until at least 11 if you didn't make reservations. But hey, you can bide time with another popsicle, right? Damn right.
The bus system: With only a burgeoning train network, the bus lines have become extremely efficient. You can get in between major cities on a daily basis and across town in a major city within an hour. But the best part is the location of bus stops; pull-offs alongside highways are accessible from walking paths into the neighborhoods, so the buses can maximize pick-ups without having to wind through residential streets (which, incidentally, are not among the things Israel does right). And if Egged's bus schedule doesn't fit yours, sheruts, or community taxis, run the same lines. No more running to the stop, because a sherut is likely a few minutes behind the bus.
Plastic and glass recycling: You might not easily find a garbage can along the street, but if you walk a couple of blocks, you're certain to run into a large green cage for depositing plastic bottles. Most of them are more than half-full, so it would seem Israelis are way ahead of the eco-game or recycling collection workers are way behind. Glass bottles run Michigan-style; if you buy beer by the case, you return the empties to the supermarket when you pick up your next party pack. Paper products are a different story. Napkins, cigarettes, and newspapers become beachside tumbleweed. This, I'm sure, is the only reason Gore beat this environmentally-minded country for the Nobel prize.
Car security: In my old car, I had a blinking LED light on my dashboard; presumably, would-be thieves would think it was a security system and head to the next car (not that the car being a Ford Focus wasn't deterrent enough). In Israel, there is still a blinking light, but it's accompanied by a keypad where you must punch in a code before you can start your car. It's amazing how much moving this small device from the lock to the ignition increases the chances that my Hyundai Getz (the Toyota Camry of Israel) will not get hotwired.
Buffet breakfasts and business lunches: The former is usually included with the cost of a hotel room, and the latter is usually less than $20, and both are generous. The breakfasts will offer fruits, vegetables, cheeses, pastries, eggs, and drinks (Pancakes and French toast aren't big here; bagel and lox are). The lunches will come with a starter, main course, and drink. And lucky for me, Sunday is a work day for the Israelis, so I can leech off the working stiffs on my day off.
Irrigation agriculture: Speaking of food, I wasn't expecting much in terms of fresh produce when I realized I was coming to a desert. But my first bite of watermelon immediately changed my mind; it was the most juicy and flavorful piece I had ever tasted. And that's not all. The same goes for kiwis, peaches, mangos, and avocados. This is a result of that ingenius and innovative Israeli Simcha Blass, who invented drip irrigation. The idea not only opened Israel to agriculture, it also promoted the conservation of water in an area lacking in available groundwater. Sadly, water supplies are continuing to be drained (pun intended), so the country needs a new Simcha to lead hydroliberation.
Urban planning: When I hear the words "industrial zone," I think of the smokestacks on the Ohio River surrounded by the vast dumping grounds of the Meadowlands. But in Israel, industrial zones are centralized areas where workers toil in the upper floors of skyscraping office buildings by day then head down to the ground floors to eat, drink, and shop by night. These mini-downtowns provide a way to draw traffic and noise away from residential neighborhoods. Of course, this causes congestion in the industrial zones themselves, but hey, if you grab a parking space in the morning, your car can stay there through happy hour and beyond.
Chilling out: Israel is good at incorporating the best of other cultures into its own. It has effectively stolen the afternoon siesta from Spain, for example. From about 2 to 4 p.m., offices, banks, and some stores shut down, so everyone can kick back with a mid-afternoon snack. And even better, for many adults, that snack is an ice cream novelty bar and coffee; does it get any better than a Nestle Crunch bar dipped in cappuccino? Only about five hours later, the same people will reconvene the relaxation at restaurants, where no obtrusive servers are trying to turn tables. Of course, that means you aren't going to get a table until at least 11 if you didn't make reservations. But hey, you can bide time with another popsicle, right? Damn right.
29 September, 2007
Though in a land of peace thou art secure, yet how wilt thou do in the pride of the Jordan? (Jeremiah 12:5)
After a crossing the no man's land border crossing, we started our trip in Jordan with a long drive in a crowded van to Jerash. Along the way, the landscape seemed to me much like what Iraq would be. My suspicions were confirmed when near Amman we saw a sign directing us to the border crossing to Iraq; we were less than 100 kilometers away.
At Jerash, they recreate the typical traditions of Roman times, from which the ruins date. This includes chariot racing, troop marching, and gladiator fighting, all narrated tongue-in-cheek by an obviously underpaid narrator who enjoys messing with tourists.
We were also lucky enough to see this performance of Irish music played on Scottish bagpipes by Arabs in a Roman amphitheater. The music is a holdover from the Crusades. This is the Middle East in a nutshell. They've had so many things foisted upon them through colonialism and evangelism that it's no wonder they're a little sensitive to outside interference.
After touring Jerash, we spent the night in Amman, which is a bustling city in the middle of a wasteland. If people weren't speaking in Arabic and women were walking on the street, it would be like any big city in the States. But the absence of Western images (besides pirated DVDs) and females was palpable.
We spent the next two days in the desert, Wadi Ram, being bounced around in Toyota trucks by our Bedouin guides. It was like an adult playground, with all the rock formations to climb up and sand dunes to roll down. 
A hookah was in order after a long day of dust and sun. But we weren't too tired for dancing, even without beer. Because of the Muslim holiday, the only available alcohol was Ramadan beer, the Arabic form of O'Douls.
To end our trip on a high point, we saved Petra for last. To build up strength to tour this "Wonder of the World," we ate dinner at the house our guide Mohammed. But we ended up burning most of the meal's energy off by dancing with his seven children. If you think that is crazy, Mohammed has 17 siblings. The extended family is so big that their homes take up an entire hillside in Petra.
After relaxing by the pool and gorging at the buffet, we were ready to take on the miles of hikes in old Petra. The teaser is the obligatory shot of the Treasury, the site used in the "Indiana Jones" movie.
But more impressive is The Monastery, including its nearby lookout, where this Bedouin shopkeeper was biding his time by text messaging. The old and new truly collide in the middle of nowhere.
The highlight for me was hiking up to the sacrificial point, where Emily sacrificed some of her lungs to a cigarette. We dared to take the "shortcut" back to Petra's entrance. It was neither short nor a cut, but it was one of the best hikes I've ever done, well worth the burning thighs and calves at the end.
We made it back in time for sunset at the hotel, which was fitting because its colors so closely matched those found in the stones within Petra. Next time you come to my house, try to figure out the artwork created from pictures of the fascinating sand designs, a constant reminder to me of the beauty to be discovered throughout the world.
28 September, 2007
Now it will spring forth ... I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, a river in the desert (Isaiah 43:19)
As if my room weren't taunting enough, I thought I'd show you the new school in its entirety. If you can see the video, it starts with the guard station. This is scarier than it looks. It's more to keep expensive equipment in than to keep bad people out. Just to the right is the elementary school, which has two playgrounds, two soccer-pitch-size fields, and two basketball courts behind it.
Next up is the library, which is where my lab is located. It is supposed to be the central hub of all things technology, nevermind that the book stacks are still in disarray because the roof, the first of its design in Israel, had to be redone because of leaking problems. Did I mention that rainy season is coming up? And that all the computer labs are on the bottom floor?
To the right of the library is the middle school, which is like a mini-high school, with the same set-up, offices, science labs and all. The high school is just on the other side of the outside amphitheater, the backdrop of which is purely Israeli: It's a kibbutz. The high school, like all the other school buildings, is completely high-tech. Eventually, every room will have a Smartboard with mounted overhead projector; the wireless Internet is already intact.
Another central hub is just opposite of the library: the cafeteria, which is entirely kosher, with isolated areas for meat and dairy. No cheeseburgers here. Typically, lunch consists of one main meal; Wednesday is pizza day, for example. If I don't bring my own lunch, I tend to partake in a variety of yummy fresh salads. The only problem is, it's more expensive than the typical U.S. school lunch; that's what you get when ketchup doesn't count as a vegetable, I guess. The school also has absolutely no vending machines, and you can't even buy soda in the cafeteria; no Coke sponsorship here.
Behind the cafeteria is an in-ground pool that won't open until the spring. The pool is done, but they are still working on enclosing it. Awnings or roofs over pools are typical here because of the dry season, with its constant sun. Behind the pool are two more soccer-pitch-size fields, two tennis courts, and eventually two more basketball courts, once the construction moves out. You can't see it on the video, but to the right of the pool is the gym, which can accommodate two full-size basketball courts at once. It's hard to get volleyballs stuck in the rafters here; trust me, I've tried.
The tour de force of the school is the performing arts center, in front of the gym and to the right of the cafeteria. It has one of the best lighting and sound systems in the greater Tel Aviv area. The school plans to make mad bank by renting it out for community concerts. There's an entire set construction area behind the stage, which is fitted with professional-level rafters and even trap doors! Outside the auditorium itself are all the choral, band, drama, and visual arts classrooms, including a dark room, a kiln room, a TV/radio studio, and a smaller black-box theater. With all this equipment, the school got the rights to do Beauty and the Beast this year. I'm looking forward to reprising my role as salt shaker.
All of the various buildings are connected by pathways covered by pergolas to provide sun and rain protection. The goal was to create a campus that blends in with the environment -- note all the sand-colored buildings -- but that also seems like a green oasis within the desert. It's like being on a well-maintained college campus, really. It still feels incomplete, but once all the backhoes are gone, it will certainly be a nice atmosphere to work in. I already look forward to getting to work and walking around. Feeling like I'm in nature motivates me to be creative, I think. Meanwhile, back in the States, the only green space comes from mold in 30-year-old buildings. I'm truly, truly sorry. All students, and teachers of course, should have access to such an inspiring setting.
24 September, 2007
The tenth day of this seventh month is the day of atonement ... and ye shall afflict your souls (Leviticus 23:27)
Up until two days ago, Yom Kippur was just a Jewish holiday with a funny name. Now I think it should be an globally recognized day of peace. For the Jewish, the Day of Atonement, as it is called, is a day of fasting, meditating on one's sins, and seeking forgiveness for them. This means all stores are closed and all roads are empty ... of cars, at least. For the non-devout, including heathens like myself, the Day of Postponement, as I've nicknamed it, is a day of dropping any obligations, drinking wine in the middle of the road, and bicycling down six-lane highways. And as a special touch this year, we played Taboo, with at least one round devoted to sex-related clues only.Okay, so I'm not one for the religosity. But I can definitely get behind a forced day of relaxation. Besides the shouts of pre-adolescent biker gangs, the streets are quiet. And the air is so clean that the anti-haze sunset is more stunning than usual. If I had the power, I would mandate a non-driving, non-thinking, non-doing day for every country, big cities especially.
Like all contradictions in this country, Yom Kippur has a dark side: the stonings. If for some reason you find a need to drive, you must take care to post a red Star of David in your window, to represent an emergency. Otherwise, you might encounter angry mobs, armed with stones to express their discontent with your non-atoning. One of my co-workers got a flat tire on his bike on the way home, and his wife encountered quite a bit of trouble leaving the neighborhood to pick him up. Despite knowing this, I rode to Tel Aviv without a spare, and guess what? Yup, a flat. Thank goodness for better-prepared boyfriends of co-workers who save me from walking the 10 miles home.
As far as religious spectacles go -- and I'm counting those South Americans who crucify themselves and those Spaniards who toss goats from towers -- this is one of the most amazing ... yet more enjoyable. I invite all of you to try reflecting on your life with a tipsy ride on a Trek.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
