01 June 2008 -- And Many More...

Let me begin by wishing the members of KIPP Houston High School's Class of 2008 huge congratulations on taking their first bold steps into adulthood!

And now for the feature presentation: The first two weeks of May brought Israel's three most important secular holidays: Yom HaShoa (Holocaust Remembrance Day), Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day), and Yom HaAtzmaut (Independence Day). The first two, as you might imagine, are solemn affairs replete with national observances as well as ceremonies in virtually every (Jewish) neighborhood and school. In addition, three air-raid sirens sound throughout the country during these days, at which point (almost) all (Jewish) Israelis stand silently at attention for two minutes no matter where they are or what they are doing. Cars on major highways stop and everyone gets out to perform this ritual. It's a time when the Israeli claim to being a "we" culture (as opposed to the American "me" culture) feels justified. Can you imagine the majority of the U.S. population doing anything in complete synchronicity?

The atmosphere takes a decidedly festive turn when Memorial Day fades into Independence Day. Since this year marked the 60th anniversary of modern Israel's birth, there were more than the usual goings-on. Israeli flags were everywhere, army bases and museums were open and free to the public, and picnics prevailed. Of course, this is also a time when those who oppose Israel's existence -- or just its means of defending said existence -- also take to the streets, but no unusual incidents marred the celebrations.

Later in the month, I chaperoned the tenth-grade annual trip to the Golan Heights. Yes, schools actually take students to internationally contested areas. In fact, the Golan is quite a point of pride amongst Israelis, even if the rest of the world is less keen about the annexation. It's a naturally beautiful area, and it certainly is strategically situated. Interestingly, the headlines upon our return lamented new negotiations between Jerusalem and Damascus that center on giving the Golan back to Syria. Perhaps I got to see it during its last days in Israeli hands. More likely, the conflict will continue well past Israel's 120th.

Finally -- and most unfortunately -- May marked the beginning of the two-month clusterfuck that is Israel's bagrut (matriculation examination) period. For each final test there are two free "study" days beforehand, plus a practice test a few weeks prior, plus another "study" day before the rehearsal. For those of you who did not pass your mathematics bagrut, that's FIVE DAYS OFF for each test taken. Most eleventh- and twelfth-grade students sit for about five exams. Again, to do the calculations for you, that's TWENTY-FIVE missed school days in the last two months of the "academic" year. Of course, there are still the field trips and celebrations and ceremonies and holidays that characterize any typical stretch of the Israeli school year, so the result is that I hardly get to teach in May, June, or July. That wouldn't be such a big deal except for the fact that besides teaching, I don't have any real reason to be here at this point. How much wheel-spinning can I take? We shall see...

The Reali School stages an impressive (if overly militaristic) Memorial Day ceremony to honor its fallen alumnae and alumni.

The mayor of Haifa, Yona Yahav, places a wreath at the fallen soldiers' memorial in my neighborhood.

I was surprised to learn that this cave in northern Israel was an ancient site of worship for the Greek goat-god Pan. He really got around.

Ophir and Yoav were our student guides through the Golan wilderness. To their credit, not a single person stepped on a landmine!

Yes, it's strategically significant, but it's also downright purty!

Elementary school students play on an abandoned tank in the "Valley of Tears." I'll let you draw your own conclusions as to what this says about how far we've come.

The Kinneret (otherwise known as the Sea of Galilee) shimmers in the background as some of my students pose on the Golan side. This may be the last year such a photo is possible. Anyone taking bets?

01 May 2008 -- Passing Over

First, the big news...
Have I found a job? YES!!! Despite some last-minute second-guessing on my part, as well as some well-intentioned guilt-tripping on the part of my Israeli suitors, I've decided to accept the offer to become the founding Dean of Instruction at YES Prep East End in Houston, which will be welcoming its first ninth-graders to campus in the fall. My marathon interview there at the beginning of Passover break rekindled in me the passion and the ganas that had faded significantly during the past year. (By the way, if I saw you in H-town last month, I'm sorry it was so rushed, and if I didn't get the chance to see you, I hope we can have a raucous reunion this summer.) My job at YES will start as soon as I return from Israel in July, so I won't have much of a vacation, but I am still extremely excited about the prospect of coming home!

Now, the fun stuff...
Since the vagaries of airfare only allowed me five days in Houston, I needed to find something else to occupy the second half of the Passover holiday. So, I did what any good Jew would do: I went to Jordan! Determined to see at least some of this region's most splendid sites (outside of Israel) before moving back to the other hemisphere, I convinced an American friend to join me on a quick trip to Petra. He brought along his Israeli roommate, who had never been to an Arab country before and was genuinely giddy. (He didn't tell his mom he was going, though...)

Glad to be here! This is the view of the Jordanian border gate after walking across a few hundred meters of deserted "no-man's-land" between the two countries. Kinda freaky, to tell you the truth.

The first sign of Jordanian infrastructure is this imposing Central Bank building. Look out, NASDAQ!

This is only the second monarchy I've ever visited, and the Netherlands certainly didn't have posters of Queen Beatrix on every available surface. These Jordanians love their royalty!

This is the Siq, a kilometer-long, cliff-sided passageway leading to...

The Treasury! Yes, this is the place from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. And yes, it's even cooler in person! Those Nabateans knew how to carve a façade!

I'm checking out the move-in specials at this 2,000-year-old apartment complex. Dang, and I thought my flat in Boston was old!

This one's mine!

I mean, the security's good...
(The authentic Nabatean sentinel on the left is talking on his authentic Nabatean cell phone.)

...there's plenty of camel parking...

...and if I ever need someone to shake a swine-shaped, liquid-filled pendulum thing, I can just go to my neighbor: this guy!

The fact that this Bedouin boutique -- situated on a steep stone stairway deep in the desert -- accepts credit cards is even more amusing given that our hotel did not (at least not on the weekends).

Petra is HUGE! We were there all day, and we still didn't see everything. This is Al-Deir, the Monastery, which is as far as we got. That's Doug (American friend) on the left and Tzahi (Israeli friend) on the right. The tall dude in the middle is yours truly.

In case Petra itself doesn't fulfill your Indy-related fantasies, I'm sure the Indiana Jones Snack Shop will!

How many dinars would you pay to see fish fellate?!

The sun sets over Petra. It really was a fantastic trip, and I recommend it to anyone with good walking shoes and even a remote interest in history. If you ever do plan to go, I'd be happy to give you some tips on lodging, dining, and transportation. Yes, camels are an option -- at least for some of the way.

01 April 2008 -- Ad Lo Yada

March came in like a lion, but not necessarily in terms of weather. KIPP's co-founder (and my former boss) Mike Feinberg visited Israel on behalf of Leo Baeck's KIPP-inspired educational initiative. It was odd to see him here, but I suppose no more so than it was to see my parents here in January. Despite the exotic setting, Mike worked his usual magic, enchanting Israeli educators, politicians, and philanthropists in a whirlwind week that was exhausting even for such a seasoned PR man. His visit was a definite catalyst for our project, and I see some wheels turning with promising momentum. I just wish we'd gotten this train out of the station earlier.

Encouraged by the seeming success of Mike's visit, Dani and Eran (my current bosses) made the somewhat audacious and rather bewildering move of offering me the principalship of the first KIPP-inspired school in Israel. While I am certainly flattered, I'm afraid they're on the wrong track. First, my expertise is in high school, and the plan here is to start with K-3. Moreover, my Hebrew may have come a long way, but I'm not equipped linguistically to lead a faculty -- and I doubt I could be even by the time the school is set to open (September 2009). Most importantly, though, I don't like working here! They know that. This is going to be a hard job for anyone, so the right person will have to be thoroughly and joyfully committed to the institution. I'm not.

That said, I still haven't decided what I will be doing next year. My two current options are:
- associate principal of a growing school (which would probably be similar to my job last year); and
- program director for a start-up study-abroad/leadership program for minority students (which would be very unlike most of what I've done before).
The first possibility is attractive in its familiarity, and it would be a logical career step. The latter is riskier, but it has one incredibly attractive feature that I've never enjoyed before: flexibility! I'd work from home on my own schedule. I could travel and cook and play music and basically do all the things that most of my peers were doing in their 20s while I was busy trying to manage my various (consecutive, not simultaneous) marriages to different jobs. Perhaps a forthcoming interview will clarify things. I'll keep y'all posted.

The only other March news is holiday-related. Purim is a festival that commemorates the Jews' deliverance from the threat of annihilation by the King of Persia. It's a merry occasion whose modern observance looks quite a bit like America's version of Halloween. People dress up in silly costumes and throw parties and exchange gifts (usually involving candy). Of course, classes are cancelled. If a butterfly flaps its wings in Brazil, classes get cancelled in Israel. Anyway, one Purim custom is to drink alcohol ad lo yada (until you can't distinguish between good and evil). While I'm no boozehound, I do feel as though this month has presented me with some tough choices. I just hope that I come up with a better way to deal with them than dressing up as SpongeBob and getting mind-numbingly plastered.

At a Purim street celebration in Haifa, a rather sketchy clown entertains a diminutive pirate. I foresee imminent plank-walking!

The traditional treat for this holiday is oznei Haman (Haman's ears). Haman is the villain in the Purim story. How do we rub our victory in his face? By eating triangle-shaped cookies supposedly resembling his ears. Take that, Haman!

Some kids are pretty creative with their costumes. Liad is Facebook. See, it's a book...with a face. If you didn't get it, he wrote it at the bottom. Liad caters to all learning styles!

Other people just decided to be colorful.

I was a G. Of course, I'm always a G, so I didn't really have to dress up. Soufwest $cReWsToN in da hizzouse!

01 March 2008 -- Choices

February felt long, and not just because of the "leap day." It was peppered with a dizzying array of doings. Maybe it just felt full. Anyway, the month began for me with the senior trip to the south of Israel. I don't teach seniors, but the grade-level coordinator virtually insisted that I help chaperone. I had heard that trips were Leo Baeck's bread and butter, so I agreed and even looked forward to it, wanting to see what all the fuss was about. On our way to Eilat, we stopped outside of Dimona for aruchat eser, or ten o' clock meal. (What can I say -- Israelis like to eat.) Little did we know that just a short drive into town, a suicide bomber was blowing himself up in an outdoor market. It's the first such attack in all of Israel since I arrived, and I was less than a mile away. Crazy.

Anyway, the trip proceeded as planned (albeit with a flurry of frantic phone calls from parents), and we took a nice hike through a sandstone canyon. The subsequent days' outings were supposed to be the real highlights, but sadly, I never got to confirm that. Less than 24 hours into the trip, four students were caught drinking vodka. Guess who was chosen to escort them back to Haifa. Gotta love being the new guy. Transportation was a mess, perhaps partially because of the attack, and it took seven-and-a-half hours on four different vehicles (taxi, bus, van, train) to get home. The kids were thoroughly unapologetic and unremorseful. What was supposed to be my first true exposure to Leo Baeck's cultural cornerstone turned into yet another demonstration of what I consider to be a vacuum of values.

This is supposedly Israel's version of the Grand Canyon. You be the judge.

Just two weeks later, I had a more positive extracurricular experience while escorting Leo Baeck's first-ever delegation to The Israel Middle East Model United Nations conference at the American International School in Even Yehuda. While the event did suffer from some typical Israeli timing problems, it was generally a well-planned program that gave the students a valuable look at the way international politics can work. I was particularly impressed by the range of institutions taking part. Christian Arab, Muslim Arab, Jewish Israeli, and international schools participated together harmoniously. Nations were thoughtfully assigned: Israel was represented by an Arab school, Leo Baeck was Saudi Arabia, etc. The entire conference was in English, which certainly made it easier for me to engage. Perhaps most impressive was how seriously the majority of students took the event, evidenced by their urgent diplomatic negotiations as well as by the formal dress they were required to wear. In many ways, it represented what education (and particularly Israeli education) should and could be.

I present to you the delegation from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

Amidst these and various other happenings, I did a great deal of pondering and a good deal of discussing my options for the near future. Much consideration led me to what may have been an inevitable conclusion: I will be returning to the U.S. after this school year ends (which, thanks to the strike, is July 11th)! I have spoken with only two people here about my decision, but I plan to reveal it to others soon. The reasons I gave them were as follows:
1) I miss home (in all its various manifestations) too much;
2) I have not enjoyed my several jobs this year -- individually or collectively; and
3) I do not foresee a mutually rewarding role for me in the KIPP-inspired project that brought me here.
More news will follow, but I wanted to share this decision with you, dear readers, since it's the most significant thing that happened to me in February. Don't worry, though: the blog will go on until my Middle Eastern adventure has come to an end...

I'm coming home, baby!

01 February 2008 -- All the World's a Stage

January was nothing if not busy -- it was my first full month of teaching here, my parents visited Israel for ten days, and I made my theatrical debut! Yes, because going to México for my first Hebrew lessons wasn't quite ironic enough for me, I thought moving to Israel would be the perfect opportunity to act in my first play. I found out about Haifa English Theatre early in my time here, and I figured that auditioning would be a fine way to meet other "Anglo" immigrants and to do something fun outside of work. I was right, more or less.

Summer End is a comic murder-mystery by Eric Chappell, a British sit-com writer. There is only one male role, and I got it. Woo hoo! I played the beleaguered son of a cantankerous, suspicious resident of the home. I spent most of my time pleading with my mother to stop accusing people of murder, but (of course) she turns out to have been right all along...kind of. Chappell is no Shakespeare, and the production was not top-dollar, but we drew pretty big crowds -- including the U.S. ambassador! -- and we put on an enjoyable show. Along the way, I did meet many English speakers (though most of them had immigrated before I was born), and I did get some welcome diversion from school. Now, when my students ask, as they often do, "Have you ever been an actor?" I can say, "Why yes, my prying little protégé, yes I have!"

In a rare Neal family instance of perfect timing, my parents found an amazing package deal for a tour of Israel that coincided with the play's performance run. My mom hadn't been here since 1968, and my dad had never been, so it was an amazing trip for both of them. I couldn't join them for most of their travels since school was in session, but I met them in Tel Aviv when they arrived, and we spent three days together in Haifa when the tour was over. Despite an unprecedented cold spell and more walking than my mom would care to do in a year, they had a delightful time. I sincerely enjoyed taking them around my new hometown; it made me feel remarkably...local.

Here I am with my stage mother. I had to wince, cringe, sigh, and roll my eyes through the whole play, saying things like "What's the matter now?" in a rather understated British accent.

This is an example of the magic of theatre: My character is supposed to be older than that of the other actor in this photograph. Did the white greasepaint at my temples fool you? In reality, she's 45 years my senior. And there's something else she's hiding...

Some of the cast and crew are posing with the U.S. Ambassador to Israel, Richard H. Jones (far right -- no pun intended), and his wife, Jean (second from left).

Here are my parents, both proudly donning their Houston Community College t-shirts, at the Eretz Israel Museum in Tel Aviv. You may be interested to know that they're very active members of HCC's International Students Club. Really.

And here they are next to a rather incomprehensible adornment in Haifa's beautiful Bahá'í Gardens. Yes, it was as cold as it looks.

Here's Mom in front of Jaffa's famed clocktower. I enjoy this picture because it was a candid shot but looks like something you'd find in a travel magazine.

Now we're in Ein Hod, a surrealist artists' colony south of Haifa founded by Dada pioneer Marcel Janco. Mom was struck by the surreal number of uneven stone steps, so we didn't stay very long.

Ooh, check it out: metaphotography! This is Dad capturing Mom in a sympathetic pose with a bronze young woman whose feet also seem to be ailing her. We're in Haifa's sculpture garden.

Perhaps reluctant at first about the idea of visiting a shuq (street market) in Haifa's Arab neighborhood, Dad did not hesitate to do as the locals do when he came upon the candy section. Gummi bears transcend cultural boundaries.

Aren't we just adorable? I'm delighted that the trip went so well and that my parents had the opportunity to get a first-hand glimpse of my Middle Eastern adventure. One wonders where the globetrotting Neals will meet next...

01 January 2008 -- Season's Greetings

I've already bored you quite enough with my tales of Israeli labor disputes, so I'll keep this part of my post brief. Suffice it to say that the strike ended on December 13th, more than two months after it began. Whether adequate benefits were achieved is open to interpretation, but most people would say NO!!! (albeit with varying numbers of exclamation points). What did I gain from the strike? Well, I now teach six classes -- including five different "preps" -- and because of my "special status," I will see no salary increase this year. It seems as though I finally have a reason of my own to strike. To the streets!

During the week before our return to school, I went on a long-awaited trip to visit my great friend Elaine, who was coming to the end of a fellowship year at RWTH, an elite technical university in Aachen, Germany. It was an amazing experience (my first in Deutschland), both because I got to spend time with an old buddy and because I imbibed a healthy dose of holiday cheer, German-style. The Christmas markets in Aachen and nearby Köln, which you'll see depicted below, are polychromatic, highly caloric, merriment-laden yule-fests. They are situated in the beautiful and historic central sections of each city and are easily enjoyed on just a few euros.

The presence of so much Christmas-y kitsch was not the only way I knew I wasn't in Israel anymore. First, I heard a lot more German spoken than I do during a normal week in Haifa, but I kind of expected that. The prevalence of tallness and blondness was not a surprise, either. Early in my stay, though, I did notice a physical distinction I hadn't predicted: moustaches. Israelis' approach to facial hair is generally all-or-nothing, but Germans seem to have a predilection for built-in upper-lip-warmers. Come to think of it, my upper lip was pretty cold when I was there. Perhaps they're on to something...

Germany also seems to put more emphasis on the timeliness of public transportation and the ubiquity of recycling receptacles. There is probably less English signage in Aachen than in Haifa -- but, then again, it's a bit easier for the average traveler to glean some sense from written German than from written Hebrew. Surprisingly, I saw nearly as many shwarma stands there as I do here, though in Germany it's called döner. I even had a falafel sandwich one day, but it just wasn't the same. Sadly, the smoking situation in Germany is no better than in Israel. Will the world never learn?!

My return to Israel was by no means an escape from the joys of the season, as you might have expected it would be. Since Haifa has a significant Christian Arab population, certain neighborhoods boast more than a smattering of colored lights and Santa-related goodies for sale. Furthermore, the Festival of Festivals is a Haifa tradition that celebrates Muslim, Christian, and Jewish holidays throughout the month of December. Beyond the novelty factor of hearing "Silent Night" in Arabic, there is a sense that this is what coexistence could look like if it were given a (non-)fighting chance.

I wish all of you a terrifically titillating 2008!

This is one of the entrances to Aachen's Christmas market. You can see the old Rathaus (town hall) in the background to the right; some parts of it date from the time Charlemagne chose this little outpost to be capital of the Holy Roman Empire. The two inflatable gingerbread men represent Aachen's signature confection: printen (a spiced cookie-like comestible often covered in chocolate).

These are the central doors to Aachen's medieval cathedral. According to legend -- or, as I call it, history -- the Devil came to town during construction and offered to help. In return, he demanded the soul of the first being to enter the completed church. As ol' Antichrist waited inside for his payment, the wise Aacheners brainstormed a solution. They released a wolf into the edifice. After a brief struggle, the frustrated Prince of Darkness excised the wolf's soul, stormed out of the church, and slammed these doors so hard that his finger was caught. You can still feel the diabolic digit inside the mouth of the lion on the right. It seems to have fossilized into a metal bolt, but nevertheless I totally believe the story.

Elaine and I are an even cuter non-couple now than we were at Swarthmore!

Apparently, Germany has a big problem with promiscuous root vegetables...

This is Germany's pride and joy: the Kölner Dom. It is profoundly impressive, but it needs a serious bath.

This golden reliquary, given the most prominent place within the Kölner Dom, contains the bones of the three Magi. During times of pilgrimage, it is opened to reveal the remains. I was content to look at the pretty box.

Virtually every public rubbish repository in Germany is divided into four sections: glass, packaging (which includes pretty much all kinds of plastic and cardboard), paper, and "waste." These folks are serious about sustainability. If only attitudes could be exported...

I visited the Chocolate Museum in Köln. This was my favorite part. You guessed it: FREE SAMPLES!!!

In one Christmas market, I came across these guys playing carols on those long-ass alphorns. (Insert witty Ricola-related comment here.)

This is German efficiency at its most benign: electronic real-time street signs that indicate the number of parking places remaining in different lots around the city. Kind of cool, I guess, but perhaps they're overdoing it. I can just imagine the argument between old German spouses about whether to risk trying the garage on Adalberstraße -- whose eight free spaces might be swiped within the 90 seconds it takes to get there -- or to play it safe in the Büchel lot, which has a whopping two additional empty spots. One thing is clear, though: If you settle for Eurogress, you're not even trying.

Especially perspicacious blog-readers may note that this doesn't look much like Germany. They'd be right! You're viewing Haifa's version of the Christmas market, the Festival of Festivals. Enjoying this multicultural gathering is a welcome counterbalance to hearing news reports of Gaza incursions and Qassam rocket attacks.

Yes, this is exactly what you think it is: chestnuts roasting on an open fire -- in the middle of an Arab neighborhood in Israel. Holiday warmth knows no borders.