Tel Aviv Diary - March 18, 2003 Karen Alkalay-Gut
March 18, 2003
Three incidental and unrelated observations: we are the midst of a dust storm that makes opening the window a threat to homemakers and ashmatics. I have been watching the street instead of the tv and see that even the cats and the crows are taking shelter.
When I get really tired of figuring out the politics I play advanced spider solitaire. Try it: it teaches you that putting things in their right place may be the wrong thing to do, that you have to constantly think backward as well as forward, and you must let your hunger for order take second place to strategy. This helps me go back to the newspaper with a clear eye.
The third item i forgot for a moment - let me tell you about it and you can conclude why. As we were going to sleep last night, Ezi said as a joke, "when do you think we're going to have to start sleeping in our clothes again?" And then he turned over and fell asleep. I, however, began to relive the night of the first scud attack, where the 3 kids, mocha, and me crowded into the kitchen and alternated using the garbage pail for releiving ourselves of excess secretions.
It was the first moment of the siren that my body remembered last night. I had gone to sleep after speaking with the Canadian radio station "as it happens" (as I did every night for a few weeks before the war) and feeling that we were beyond all these bogeyman fears. And the sirens woke me upright shouting SHIT. It was the physical position and tension I felt last night. The SHIT. and i had to talk myself into the philosophy that no war is like the previous war and we'll figure out what to do as we go along. But I couldn't fall asleep until i was sure that my clothes were piled up next to the bed. Ready to go.
What do you think of that, Kurt Gerron? (remember i am now talking to portraits) "Well," he says, "Marlene went to the US but I thought France was civilized enough to save me. If I were you I'd go to New Zealand or give up trying to figure it out. I've noticed you don't win many of those spider solitaire games anyway."
Last night we had a lot of time at the airport while we waited for Oren to get through customs. There were six other people. This is an airport that is always crowded with welcomers. But not now. British Airways has cancelled all flights - and I think the whole world here is coming to a halt... I mean every one is working but no one is doing anything else.
We printed out instructions for the gas mask and atropin in spanish for angelica - if we need to use these things there are going to be many more accidents like the one in Kfar Kassim yesterday. Hard to use your head when you think you're being gassed.
"Try to imagine the worst scenario possible" a kind friend said to me, trying to clear my head of the cloud its in. "It's not a matter of degree - its a matter of kind." I answered automatically. "I can imagine a thousand different scenarios. They are all potentially catastrophic. I'm just hoping that whatever happens it will leave as many of us alive and well as possible. By us i mean humanity."
We swing from believing there will be nothing from Saddam and maybe we can begin to concentrate on making some kind of peace around here - to certainty of a nuclear dirty bomb terrorist attack. And in this context we are trying (and are being urged) to live a normal life and go about our business. This is interesting, but it is not surprising that we prefer to stay home and listen to music, right?
March 19, 2003
Yes, I think I have found the right obsession to relieve terror. After all I have bought all the food that can fit into my cupboards. I have refrained from inflicting panic among my children. I do not nag my husband any more than usual. I do not watch television any more than usual. So I have Kurt Gerron.
But you lazy people who COULD read back (unlike me) keep asking where the picture is. So give him a moment to appear and here he is again in all his glory:
Tell me he isn't a comfort.
This evening, following the instructions of the home front, the Purim party of the hebrew writers association took place 
and then we went home and followed the next instructions of the home front and tried on the other mask. 
Ezi is the one taking the picture. He did not try on his mask - thought the whole thing ridiculous - hence the pose.
March 20, 2003
I suppose every hour will bring a whole new world today. One point to watch. The Israeli government and the Palestinian people keep announcing that they are afraid the other side will take advantage of these difficult times in order to destroy the other. So far there was a terrorist murder yesterday - but that could have happened in any case. On our side, we have been smearing things up in the territories, bulldozing, targeting, etc. So I guess it's our side we have to watch at the moment.
More later
The whole thing is a question of who you believe in. If someone I love tells me he's done something wrong I assume it was by mistake - i will give him the benefit of the doubt. Someone I distrust tells me the same thing and I assume he's got an agenda in telling me. And my suspicion makes him suspicious, and then he can't tell me openly, and I sense the lack of faith and i escalate it. This keeps happening around here. We assume the other side is lying and maybe they are lying but it may be a protective measure against our agressive suspicion - und zu weiter. So when Nathalie Handel, the Palestinian poet who lives in New York, and I were talking about a dialogue project, I thought - we have to begin as if there is no history - as if (and I know this is almost impossible) we have no political and/or historical identities. Because if we don't establish a basis for trust first, we have no way to understand where we're coming from. I mean we were talking TONIGHT when Baghdad is being bombed and there are women and children there. We were talking TONIGHT when people are under closure in Gaza and Ramallah and Hebron and Nablus because we are afraid they will use this mess to terrorize us. And we're terrorizing them. And even though it is TONIGHT we have to talk.
I know that Nathalie knows that even if i mistake (as she might mistake) the facts and come to different conclusions, both of us want more than anything a world in which people don't want or need to hurt each other. So I know that even if we misunderstnad each other - and even my HUSBAND and I misunderstand each other sometimes - we really want the same things. And we really care.
Perhaps on the opposite end of the spectrum, I stopped translating the poetry of one of the most important poets in the world today when his widow got angry with me because I was (mis)quoted as saying he is more important abroad than in Israel. It was 2 years ago on the phone with Shimon Adaf, and I had no idea he was publishing anything - and my point was that some of the poets in Israel don't appreciate the absolute jewel they have here in this poet because they're all vying for positions of their own. But abroad, where they don't have little local axes to grind, they can see him more clearly. But I feared that anything i said to her or about him would be construed in this context so i stopped writing about him, stopped translating him, and refused to be interviewed about him again. His widow is still angry with me and today followed up our discussion of almost 2 years ago with another chastising. Whatever I said to explain to her that I honor her late husband's poetry and revere his memory meant nothing - she had documents proving my treachery and i didnt even know what she was talking about. I was quoted here - i said there. She may be right - they may have quoted the first misquote - even though i wrote in as soon as she told me about it and clarified my point. (it's on ynet for those of you who speak Hebrew) ynet You can be the judge. I had never heard of the second quote. In any case, as we were speaking (if you could call it speaking), so close upon my conversation with Nathalie, I realized that just as anything I said to Nathalie would be understood as well-intentioned, anything I said to this woman would be understood as evil. And I began to believe her. Perhaps I WAS trying to steal the rights of his poem. Perhaps I WAS trying to hitch a ride on his star. Then she hung up and i went to look up what i had of our correspondence, tried to remember (with my distorted memory) when we had talked and about what - and could not remember for the life of me whether that one out of fifty odd poems had been approved by Yehuda or not. Yes, I sent him a copy of the poem. Did he answer me? Maybe he didn't. Does it matter now? My only goal then had been to share a wonderful poet with others. So whoever was right here, the end was not a positive one.
Funny thing about it - i didn't distrust her - i distrusted myself - didn't even fit the model i created at the beginning of this tirade.
Why am I talking about my personal life and not the war, you ask? I AM talking about the war.
And here is a joke that is also about the war:
Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?
Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.
Woman: Oh, I see.
Officer: Can I see your license please?
Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.
Officer: Don't have one?
Woman: Lost it 4 times for drunk driving.
Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please.
Woman: I can't do that.
Officer: Why not?
Woman: I stole this car.
Officer: Stole it?
Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.
Officer: You what?
Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see.
The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.
Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please!
The woman steps out of her vehicle.
Woman: Is there a problem sir?
Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner.
Woman: Murdered the owner?
Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please.
The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.
Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?
Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.
The officer is quite stunned.
Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.
The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it ! to the officer. The officer snaps opens the clutchpurse and examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.
Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.
Woman: Bet you the lying bastard told you I was speeding too
That is one of my epistomological problems today (when watching the news or looking in the mirror). Sometimes I think I'm the policeman. Sometimes I'm the commanding officer. And sometimes I'm the woman driver.
March 21, 2003
Even last night there were people here in hysteria - 30 people alone on yesterday injected themselves with atropin - lots of people told me they didn't trust the quiet - like it was the quiet before the storm - some people were hysterical but many were frantic in their relief - the clubs were packed. Most people say they never thought anything was going to happen anyway.
Me, i think it's a deceptive relief. Because unless we move in now and make peace - wage peace - in the whole area - this will be the beginning of world war iii. we need to use this situation to open up dialogues. there is an organization created by sari nusseibeh and ami ayalon on the local level, and i'm going to join it right now. this is absolutely the time to do it.
I did. You can read it too and join Mifkad
Maybe because I've always been scared to death of treading on other peoples' rights and taking what is not rightfully mine, I have tried to be very careful not to use the names of people I discuss unless they have agreed to it. Sometimes a name might sneak in, but i really do all i can not to let it happen. Sometimes i get permission weeks after to use someone's name and then i try to go back (without reading the diary because then i might, as you know, start prettying it up as i get more self-conscious) and just add the name. But by then no one else is reading the outdated entry anyway.
I explain this use of names again because someone just asked me about the legal ramifications of my talking about people I know on the web. Do I need a lawyer? Help!
And in the meantime, while I am worried about hurting someone's feelings, reports are coming in from the Red Cross that thousands of Iraqis were injured in the bombing last night, and the Palestinians have been demonstrating to burn Tel Aviv. Here's a photo I think i remember the chant from the last gulf war - ya saddam ya habib udrub udrub tel aviv.
Does it make any difference that living in Tel Aviv all I can think about it escaping danger and praying that others - in Baghdad as well as Tel Aviv - escape danger as well? Maybe I'm just a 'yefe nefesh' - how do you say it in English - a falsely sympathetic person who just eases his conscience by 'thinking' virtuous thoughts.
To keep a perspective I have been reading a book in German about Kurt Gerron. A pretty amazing book. There is an interview with a Czech cameraman who worked with Gerron on his Nazi propaganda movie. The whole interview is the perspective of an 'underling' (he was 22 and very junior) upon the great and unknowable director. Their conversation consisted of short technical commands (It would not have been seemly to speak with him, he says). But, if my German is correct, the most amazing thing is that Gerron was a professional, and although he never got to see a frame of this film, was obsessive about 'doing it right' - so much of a perfectionist that he got behind schedule and one day disappeared.
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