The Israeli

The Israeli is a curious creature. Despite the Israeli being made up of one part of nearly every country in the world, and only a minority of Israelis able to actually call themselves second generation Israeli, this creature has a unique behaviour, which rather than being a mix of all the components making it up, has its own special characteristics. Out in the wild, the following characteristics can be clearly seen, almost without exception:

• Opinion is as good as fact. If an Israeli heard a piece of information from someone they know, this information becomes fact, even if it flies in the face of logic or truth. An example of how this is embedded in the culture: a private company produces a booklet with the values of all cars of all ages. This has become the reference book when buying and selling a car. The only important thing when setting the sale value of your car, is what the book says. Similarly, negotiations are all centred around the value in the book. Precise percentage discount values are specified for different situations - number of owners, type of previous owners, etc. However, try to argue about the price due to a factor that is not specified in the book and it is a lost cause. The book says so, therefore it is true.
• Whatever your interaction with one of these specimens  they are doing you a favour, even if it handing over money in return for goods they are selling - by taking your money, they are doing you a favour.
• Despite being a tipping culture, service oriented Israelis are few and far between, that you sometimes may be forgiven for thinking you are in Australia.
• When something does not go the way an Israeli wants or expects, he finds it necessary to shout and swear at who/whatever is causing distress. Additionally, the Israeli will try and involve all bystanders within a 50 foot radius in the complaint by shouting a series of rhetorical questions at them, such as; "How can they give us this kind of service?", "I have been waiting here for 30 minutes, how is it acceptable that a bus isn't here?" or "I have never had to do this before, how can they say this? This isn't normal!"
• After giving him the finger because he honked at you as a result of you obeying the road rules but him not liking it, he pulls up next to you to ask you "why?" He actually listens to your explanation, and then, with only a slight hint of ridicule, wishes you "a very happy holidays from the depth of his heart".
• Whilst more than happy to fight for his country, in a war, where real deadly weapons are used, the Israeli is shit-scared that somehow if he lets you off the train before he pushes himself onto the train, the train might leave without him. Although this extends to all forms of public transport, it is most evident on the trains.

And like all Israeli documents, the following disclaimer applies: All references to males in this document apply equally to females. Similarly, all references in the singular apply equally in the plural.

Modern, Yet Behind The Times

There is no doubt that Israel is one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world. This is what the statistics say. Silicon Wadi, the concentration of hi-tech start-ups along the coastal strip from Tel-Aviv up to Haifa is second only to Silicon Valley (and actually beats Silicon Valley in some statistics). Take start-ups out of the equation, and you still have the dozens of huge international companies who have chosen to set up one of their few offices outside the USA, in Israel. Of course, the cynical amongst us (me included, at times), would argue that one of the main reasons for this is the relatively low cost of labour here compared to the high productivity - I wouldn't be surprised if Israel tops the world 'productivity / labour cost' list. However, when it comes to day to day interaction with this country, one could be forgiven for thinking that it is only just emerging from the middle ages - and I'm sure some would argue that this is because people have bigger fish to fry here than to worry about the small stuff, but I would argue that it's because technology companies are so focused on the big money, that it's much more lucrative simply to export to larger markets, than to try and work within the Israeli market. So what exactly am I talking about?

Going Home

I am about to embark on what is likely to be my last flight this year – the one that will take me to my homeland and hopefully fulfil a dream of almost 20 years. I have spent much of this year doing travel related things: packing up one home of 11 years and one of 2 years (not to mention packing and unpacking through two temporary homes); I have spent more time in airports this year, than even I, as a pilot, thought I would – about to embark on my 40th flight of the year (not counting ones I piloted myself) and my 7th intercontinental one; I have destroyed 2 suitcases and lost numerous items along the way. But now, I am going home – I hope.

This will be the second goal fulfilment this year – the first one being the opportunity to work in a humanitarian aid situation. Done and dusted (but of course, maybe it could be different next time?)

I approach this with much trepidation – so much more than going to Denmark or Senegal. I go without a solid home and without a job, but because I want to. On and off for 19 years I have been thinking about this. Reliving childhood memories of fun, friendships and freedom. Yet I go back with the expectation of hard times, a large pay cut, and still being thousands of miles away from my family. I am excited though – I know opportunities will await and there will be a life to live. It has been nice to be able to say: לשנה הבאה בירושלים (next year in Jerusalem), and actually mean it. It has been nice to think that, although I have rarely been directly affected by anti-semitism in the past, now, I will be living in a place where my government does something about it. I look forward to feeling my religion, rather than just practicing it. I look forward to going home.

Musings on Dakar - Part 1 (most likely...)

Welcome to Léopold Sédar Senghor  (Dakar) International Airport 

I have only been here a short time, but I have already noticed so many things that stick out to me. Some of them stick out because I have simply been transformed to a different climate, different culture, different language and different life. Others though, simply do not have explanations because in any context, they simply do not make sense. In no particular order, this is my list of impressions of this hot country of which I have only touched upon...

• The unofficial taxi driver coalition in Dakar believes that if enough of their members honk at you, you will eventually get in one of their taxis and pay for a ride.

• In terms of equal standards, accommodation costs are slightly higher than Scadinavia, yet taxi rides are about one-twentieth the cost, even though the cost of fuel is roughly the same (on the other hand, the standard of the taxis themselves, can't really be compared...)

• It is nigh on impossible to find a self-service laundrette. But there are plenty of "pressing" shops that will clean your clothes (I have a feeling they actually dry-clean...) at a handsome cost per item (a load of basic washing just cost me 16,800 CFA / $33)

A busy round-a-bout with 3 Nescafe vendors (2 seen here, partly
blocked by a ubiquitous yellow taxi)

• Instant Nescafe from a street-seller in a tiny plastic cup is the height of coffee culture, and can be found on every street corner.

• Forget Japanese, European and American cars, Iranian and Indian cars rule the roads here!

• Forget BP or Caltex, here we have OilLibya!

• Like most non Anglo-Saxon Western coutries, the people are some of the most warm, welcoming and genuinely friendly people ever. Spend a day driving a new colleague aroundn to help him find an apartment? No problems. Invite a relative stranger into your house for a meal? Of ourse. Whilst overfriendliness tends to raise alarm bells with me, the worst thing that is likely to happen here as a result is daylight robbery by the street-seller or taxi driver.

The Opposite of Tears of Joy (Smiles of Frustration?)

I think I get a kick out of things going wrong, finding someone or something to blame, and then investing all my energy into somehow extracting my revenge. This tends to occur in the following form:

1. Me, the helpless victim, tries to purchase goods or services from big business.
2. Big business screws me over by not delivering as promised.
3. Consequently, I suffer some massive injustice. This may be that I end up having to pay an addition $3 to get something fixed, am uncomfortable in a plane because I get stuck next to some person who takes up my seat as well as theirs, or something similar. Either way, the injustice I suffer, is, naturally (when I argue about it), roughly equivalent to WWIII.
4. I pull out the Bacher gene (that part of the chromosome inherited from my maternal side of the family) and complain. This is the part that I may get the slightest kick out of it. I complain verbally or in writing. Whichever way I do it, I don't stop until I get my way. Of course, sometimes the effort is way more than the argument is about. But it's about principle and the satisfaction it brings. It feels little better if I can tell myself that the other party has somehow learnt from their mistake.

Dear Denmark

Dear Denmark,

It is time to be 100% open with you - I'm not sure this relationship is for life. That's the short, blunt, story. The long story though, is that I have not given up yet, and I want you to understand what might happen and why...

'tis better to have discovered rubbish, than to never have discovered at all

I don't know what it is about frozen ocean that fascinates me so much,
but it just does.

I'm going to begin with a tangent to a tangent here. The first tangent is the title of this entry, the tangent to the tangent is that up until now I had always quoted the real words from the quote as coming from Shakespeare, thinking it was from Romeo & Juliet. And it was one of my favourite quotes. For some reason, I decided to research it tonight and much to my disappointment I discovered that the words come from Lord Alfred Tennyson, and not from Shakespeare! So much for thinking I actually absorbed the one Shakespeare play I studied at school...

Back to the original tangent... A friend of mine told me not to bother with the Viking Museum in Roskilde as it is a waste of money. I think they were bang on actually. The Viking Museum is a large building hosting a collection of 'pieces' of 6 Viking boats that were excavated from the fjord in 1962. They were 'put' there by the Vikings to create an underwater barrier to prevent sea based attacks on Roskilde. The 6 ships are in various states, but in general, without the steel frames and some imagination, there really wouldn't be that much to see. However, WITH the steel frames and imagination, I did still find it fascinating seeing wooden constructions that carried dozens of Vikings, thousands of miles, many hundreds of years ago. Something about old 'stuff' always fascinates me...

The 'on board' dunny on the reconstruction.

In fact, a reconstruction of the largest ship (built in the museum's shipyards) recently completed a voyage to Dublin and back (it was thought the original was constructed in Ireland). The was a special exhibit on this in the musuem which was quite interesting, and it definitely reminded me how glad I am to not be a Viking sailing the choppy seas 1,000 years ago!
 
So back to my tangent. I had been told the museum wasn't worth it. And at DKK 75 (that's the special 'winter' price) I honestly think it was a bit of a rip-off. However, that's pretty much standard in Denmark I guess - that things are a rip-off and it's just a part of life. But, my point is, despite even thinking to myself that the museum may not really be worthwhile, I still wanted to go. It's not like I didn't have the money or the time, it was a beautiful day to be travelling to the country-side anyway, and, well, I thought to myself afterwards, 'tis better to have discovered rubbish, than to never have discovered at all.

And I think that philosophy pretty much explains so many of the things I do in life, and so much of why I do things. But finally I have put it down in a single line, one explanation of why I feel I need to try everything at least once, why I want to travel to so many places (even the ones that may not be so exciting), why I seem to want to chop and change jobs and careers, why I want to live in different cities, and why I am who I am.