A Helping Hamsa

In the Middle East, it helps to be lucky.  For hundreds of years, during Muslim, Christian, Muslim and Jewish administrations people in this area of the world believed in charms to defend against the "evil" eye and other misfortunes.  One of the most popular and enduring charms is the "hamsa," a palm-shaped amulet (pictured here):

Depending upon the faith of the owner, a hamsa amulet is either The Hand of Fatima(Muslim), The Hand of Miriam (Jewish) or The Hand of God (Christian), although the icon predates monotheism.  "Hamsa" means "five" in Arabic (like 'hamesh' in Hebrew) and the five fingers are reminders of the five pillars of Islam or the five senses of man.  The eye guards against the "evil eye," an ancient curse in Arabia, while the open palm represents blessing and providence.  Hamsas are usually placed near the doorway of a home to protect it and its occupants from any evil that might cross the threshold, although you can see them around people's necks, in cars, and in any room of the home that might need a little luck.

What I find most interesting is that the superstition was so strong the Jewish mystics in the Upper Galilee took up the tradition from their Arab neighbors.  The Hand of Fatima became The Hand of Miriam and the symbolism of five reinterpreted to mean the five books of the Torah. 

Today, the hamsa is so en vogue it's impossible to miss in the Jewish Friday craft fairs and Saturday Arab markets.  From Wikipedia: "In Israel today, it is a trendy symbol that has become 'an icon of Israeliness and secularity'."  The hamsa has been in the background of our own Israeli experience.  When we came here in February our apartment was graced with a malfunctioning doorbell in the shape of a hamsa (we did not recognize it at the time).  Upon planning our departure from Israel we were presented with one as a good-bye gift.  We've probably seen more hamsas than mezuzahs!

Perhaps it isn't so amazing that people from two strong monotheistic religions with no visible representation of God have agreed on this icon of "His" protection.  While the great invisible gods Yahweh and Allah remain in conflict, people embrace luck or fortune to keep them safe.  In a land of high risk, it doesn't hurt to be lucky.

Israeli Game Shows

In Israel we don't have many choices for TV.  We have a standard cable package which includes some truly terrible movie channels, National Geographic and History (all in English with Hebrew subtitles).  History combines all of its commercials between shows which is very nice, but National Geographic likes to interrupt their own English shows with commercials in Hebrew for upcoming shows--that's one of the reasons I learned the words for days of the week ("rishon be tesha" is Sunday night at 9:00). We also have a bunch of Israeli channels but they are in Hebrew as would be expected.  The English channels usually have semi-decent offerings but occasionally, like last night, the options were dreadful.  That's when I turn to Israeli game shows.  News and stand-up comedy are too hard to follow in a foreign language, but game shows with their standard formats and emotional excitement can be followed without too much trouble.  I can plot the highs and lows in tones of voice and it's clear when someone is winning vs. losing.  Losers usually disappear from the set very quickly.  They don't mince words.  The popular shows are high risk, very public, and unforgiving--but they make for great TV.

Wipeout לחסל
Israeli Wipeout was similar to the US version except that the winner was one of the most athletic men I've seen on t.v. and was able to complete the final course in a blistering 1:23!  No one else came close!  This definitely wasn't the "everyman" vibe that you get from the show in the states.  There was no "I could do that" moment.  It was just fierce and brutal competition.

A Star is Born כוכב נולד
The Israel version of American Idol, called "A Star is Born" was similar in its brutality.  One show featured dueling contestants where one of the two singers got to stay with the show and one was escorted off in front of live t.v.  They sang, the voting lines opened, the judges provided their criticism, and the loser was escorted out (all within 10 minutes!)  Not a show ended without 1 or more contestants permanently eliminated.  For their part, the contestants did not show any hurt feelings or have nervous breakdowns on stage.  They were much less emotional about the competition than their US counterparts.

Who's Still Standing/ Fly Million לטוס מיליון
This spirit of intense but fun competition was definitely on display in the game show I watched last night called "Still Standing."  The game is a new twist on trivia as a person stood in the center of a circle of other people all of which were standing on a trap door.  Each people in the circle has a monetary value which no one knew--there are 2 of each of the following possibilities (50,000; 25,000; 10,000; 500; 1).  The person in the middle selects a person in the circle to play against and then they start a round of trivia.  Each person has 20 seconds to answer the question.  If they answered correctly, their opponent gets a question and another 20 seconds, and they go back and forth like this until someone gets it wrong.  Then, if the person in the circle is wrong, the door beneath their feet opens and they fall through.  The money that their position guarded is revealed and banked by the person in the middle.  This can be anything from 1 NIS to 50,000 NIS.  If the person in the middle wants to continue the game, they call out another person and play for another pot of money.
If, however, the person in the middle fails to answer their question, they go into one more round with the person in the circle.  If the person in the center wins the duel, the trapdoor opens up under the person in the circle and the center person can play on.  If the person in the circle beats the one in the center, the one in the center falls through the floor, forfeits their winnings, and the person left standing gets one more question.  If they answer correctly, they get to find out how much money their number held and then get to keep that amount.  In the game I saw last night, the lucky victor got to keep 50,000 NIS!
It was a very exciting game because it was a battle of wits rather than a multiple choice test.  Both competitors could win any amount of money or end up with a dramatic exit, straight down.  I'm not sure if the lawyers in the states would approve of such an exit in that style, but if they did, it would make a wonderful import.
And apparently I'm not alone in my assessment.  NBC is coming out with a version of it in August: http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-4080763,00.html

Don't Drop the Millionאל תפיל את המיליון
Apparently dropping through the floor is very popular in Israel, since they use the same principle in a show called "Drop the Money."  In it, two contestants in a team are presented with a trivia question, four possible answers, and a stack of 1,000,000 NIS in cash.  The people have 60 seconds to physically place the piles of money on platforms in front of the correct answer.  Any money placed on the wrong answers falls through the floor when the correct one is revealed.  Also, any money that has not been placed disappears in the same way.  Apparently watching all of this money disappear through the floor is somewhat traumatic which only increases the suspense of the game.  The contestants can gamble and distribute the money across the answers, but they risk losing their hedge if it's wrong.  The next round is played with the remaining money and so on until the final round is just 2 possible answers and the money must be placed all or nothing.  It sounds like a really great show (even if you can't read the questions) as it is easy to identify with the gamble and the emotional highs and lows.  Obviously, they can't opt to stop playing and bank the money.  They have to play through until the end or until they have no money.  The human drama is fantastic in any language.
If you're interested, a full episode is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjJzSKkBLa4&feature=related

Turning Point 5

As you may have heard, Israel is conducting military preparedness drills called "Turning Point 5" today--5 because it is in the fifth year, having started in 2007.  It is a nation-wide defense drill involving everyone with drills in the morning during the work day and in the evening at home.  We were warned repeatedly about the impending drill (they will sound the air raid siren in all Israeli cities at 11:00 and 7:00 p.m. today) so I was a little worried about how the day would go.  If I had been alone, it wouldn't have been so scary--when the sirens sounded we went to the shelter/copy room on our floor and waited for 10 minutes--but my co-workers did their best to make me wish I was back home and safe in California where all we have to worry about is natural disasters.

While we were in the shelter, staring out the window at the traffic below, my co-worker turned to me:
"Do you know how it was? Back in 2006?  They sounded the siren and you didn't know if you were going to be hit or not.  They sounded it whenever a projectile was detected and they didn't know what type or how fast it was going.  You didn't know if it was a 5km range missle that was going to hit the far north or if it was powerful enough to travel all the way to Haifa.  They would sound the siren everywhere at all times and you just didn't know where it would land.  Now they are able to tell the missle type and the trajectory, they think, but back then, sirens were just part of life."
"Some times you were caught outside [when the sirens sounded] and then what could you do?   You could continue driving or you could stop but you weren't safe.  You had to make calls like that every day.  And it didn't really bother people.  The adults, well, they/we are all soldiers so you didn't worry.  Everyone has faced down worse.  But the kids, that's what you had to deal with, the kids didn't know what was happening.  You had to keep them safe."
"How long of a warning did you have?"
"About 10 minutes, you didn't know."

The intercom announced the end of the drill.  They thanked us for our participation.  Apparently last year, many employees didn't even play along with the drill.  "We follow the news; there are no rocket attacks today."

Outside the window I saw firemen setting a large pile of wooden crates on fire in an empty lot.  Others were tending to a "victim" on a stretcher or as my co-worker called it "a tanning bed."  Occasionally a fireman picked up a crate on the edge of the fire and heaved it into the flames.  "That's interesting," I said.  "In the US we don't usually set fires for our fire drills."  "The wood has to go somewhere," he replied.  "They don't want to haul it back home, that's for sure."

What a strange country!  I can't understand the threat of rocket attacks that lasts for months or a nation where everyone is a brave soldier in the home and in the workplace.  I couldn't live here knowing that some one hates me, my city, my home enough to inflict that kind of torture.  Thank goodness that Operation Iron Dome has had some success shooting down the missles.  My co-worker tells me "it's amazing what you can get used to."  I hope I never have to try.

Under Construction

Construction sites in Israel do not get the same respect they do in the US.  Like driving in Israel, an individual’s actions in a construction zone are determined by a personal calculation of risk vs. reward.  The straightest path goes right through the construction site so the reward (a brisk walk) often outweighs the risk of say, being run over by a bulldozer.  Common sense dictates behavior and each individual bears the consequence of taking the risk. 

I have first-hand experience with this nonchalance since I walk nearly every day along a beach boardwalk that will be under construction until May.  At first, I skirted the torn up boardwalk, deviating to the beach whenever I saw men working.  Later, after watching everyone else walk straight through the work zone, I did the same.  There were a few days when they put up red tape or waist-high fencing which increased  the effort  to reward ratio and meant, "we really recommend that you do not walk here" so we went around.  Still, even then, avid walkers were hopping the waist high fencing (only plastic) and ignoring the red tape.  You don't want to walk across wet cement, but that's about the limit to caution.  Besides, there are several juice bars and restaurants that would suffer greatly if their stores were inaccessible to beach goers.  They have to trust that the customer will be both stubborn and creative enough to find their way through the construction maze.

The building where I work is also under construction.  The top floor is unfinished which necessitates the use of cranes and cherry pickers.  The cafeteria has lovely outdoor patios but there are signs up and red tape warning people not to sit outside because of the dangerous construction taking place on the roof.  These signs are largely ignored and people sit outside on the patio anyway. Yesterday, while they had a man up in a cherry picker, the safety staff felt it was necessary to increase the danger level by posting more red signs and actually moving a planter in front of the doors.  Thanks largely to the planter, no one went to the patio--the message came through that it was not only dangerous, it was going to involve a lot of effort.  Without the planter the reward of eating outdoors on a nice day was worth the effort of walking through the door that someone had propped open + the potential risk that something could fall from the roof.  Now, with the heavy planter firmly in place, the effort + the risk far exceeds the potential reward and people stay out.

In the US, we are never given so much trust as individuals to make our own risk/reward calculations.  Construction sites are usually surrounded by 9 ft tall chain link fence with barbed wire tops 3 months before any work begins on the site.  Clientele is driven from restaurants and the whole place shuts down.  If you are allowed on site, you need a hardhat and an escort.  Unlucky walkers have to detour or, heck, this is the US, they have to drive around. 

Construction occurs in one big blast and once it's complete and the fences are removed the building is expected to require only minor maintenance.  In Israel it seems like things are happier in a constant state of repair.  Construction is not just a one-time occurrence.  If walls are falling down, they can be patched.  If roofs leak, buckets provide a handy solution.  It seems like the only requirement in the building code (at least for beachside restaurants and bars) is that the building hasn't fallen down yet.  It's not shoddy construction but rather construction as a process instead of one-time act.
 
So you take a risk, but living here is an acknowledged risk, and people are happy to do it.  Things aren't as slick or as polished as they are in the US but maybe that brings them closer to reality.  I've gotten used to walking on rubble (the entire country is full of it) and it makes you reflect on the temporary nature of existence. Today's cafe is built on a Roman road that was built on the foundations of a Phoenician village which was built on a prehistoric shell mound which means there were people here before you came and there will be people here after you leave--all of those people choosing, like you did, to run the risk of living in this very strange and ancient land.