Remembered scenes

I've been in London for the last few days, having great adventures my first time in this world-famous city. I've been doing lots of museums and markets and gigs and the theatre and all that good stuff - so much so that each day I finish quite tired and without the physical or creative energy to write a blog entry about it...so for now I will offer you my photo album on Facebook and save the London stories for another time.

Meanwhile, I've been meaning to write about some of the images from everyday life in Israel that I don't have pictures of. Since I can't create an iMovie montage of these little scenes and vignettes, instead I'll have to describe them and if you like, you can make the montage in your head...

1) Dirty skinny street cats, hundreds and hundreds of them, everywhere, on every street and next to every dumpster in Israel. Their piteous state did not, of course, deter me from attempting to make friends with them, usually with little success.

2)People in cars winding down their windows at traffic lights to ask directions either from the driver in the car next to them, or a passing pedestrian. I'm sure this happens in other places, but certainly not in New Zealand - at least not with the absolute commonplace frequency that I'd see in Israel. I think in New Zealand, if we're lost, we make a solid effort to figure out where we are for ourselves, and then, only when this proves impossible, do we pull into a gas station to ask for help. In Israel, people obviously drive around with no idea how to get where they want to go, but have no qualms about this because they can just ask someone while they are driving. It's so obvious! Who needs GPS?

3) Old people and their Thai or Filipina caregivers. Since the first and second Palestinian intifadas, Israel has brought in thousands of foreign workers to do all the low-paid jobs and manual labour that no-one else wants to do. This includes the job of being caregivers for very elderly and disabled people. Many times I would be sitting on a bench in a park or a Tel Aviv boulevard and see one such elderly person sitting limply in a wheelchair, perhaps having suffered from a stroke or degenerative illness, with a young Asian carer by their side. Sometimes there would be a whole group of them, because the caregivers would organise to get together with one another perhaps to break up the loneliness of being a stranger in a strange land. It made me a little sad to think about these two different groups of people, the immobile elderly and the foreign caregivers, each a little isolated from the people around them because of the barriers of language and the ability of the average passerby to, well, pass them by without any interest or interaction. One could write a much longer social commentary on this....

4) Ugly wedding dresses. If you find yourself in one of the more beautiful spots of Israel - like Neve Tzedek, the Bahai Gardens in Haifa, the ports of Akko or Yafo for example - in the late afternoon when the light is golden, chances are you'll stumble across at least half a dozen brides and grooms with their wedding photographer. And chances are that at least 60 percent of those brides will be wearing something that takes your breath away...with its utter hideousness. We're talking layer upon later of ruffly frills (like the kind you see on those decorative toilet-roll dolls), wench-like corset bodices, sometimes made from an attractive see through mesh (because everyone wants to see the bride's midriff on her wedding day, do they not?). My personal favourite was a blood-red dress, complete with the ruffles and bodice, not to mention black lace trimming and a bride-of-frankenstein hairdo to go with it. Now before you accuse me of being overly judgemental and insensitive towards tastes different from my own, please note that I deliberately did not take pictures out of respect for the fact that these people, on the happiest day of their lives, of course thought themselves to look beautiful. And I'm willing to accept that one woman's sense of what is hideous can be another's sense of what is beautiful.

There are lots of other scenes and images of course, but those are a few I really wanted to remember.

Wifi rage!

As my family and friends know, my fondness for the Internet is so great that people often accuse me of being an “addict”. I don’t know whether or not this is true, but I do acknowledge that I have certain behaviours and propensities that suggest how important it is to me to have clear and unfettered access to the Internet wherever I am. In the presence of a free wifi connection, I can happily sit for hours on my laptop, needing no other company or stimulation to pass the day. However, when I can’t find a connection, I can become quite agitated and impatient. I spend a great deal of time thinking about all the emails or chats that I’m missing out on, or frustrated that I can't look stuff up or book things online, and wondering when and how I can get my next “hit”. Usually I can manage a few days without it, if I absolutely HAVE to (say, when out in the desert, or at sea, or engaged in outdoorsy-type activities). But when I’m in civilization nothing frustrates me more than the inability to look stuff up or email people or do whatever it is I spend so much time doing WHENEVER I WANT TO. To me, that’s freedom. I honestly believe that free wifi access in public places is every person’s birthright. Thus, my greatest rage is reserved for the cafes, hotels, and airports who have the AUDACITY to provide wireless internet access that you have to PAY for! Wifi should be free!! Free, damnit!! I’m the one who’s killing my shoulders lugging my laptop around the place, all you have to provide is the access! How can you justify charging the highway robbery prices you charge? $30 for an hour?? I’ve already bought a damn coffee at your café, give me my free wifi, you monsters!!

Bite-sized chunks of kulcha

Yesterday I had a fun day of wandering aimlessly and, at times, purposefully around the port city of Liverpool.
Before coming here I really didn't know anything about the city, apart from it being the home of the Beatles of course (See me here with my mate John?). However, I didn't do the Beatles Magical Mystery Tour, or the Beatles Museum, since I was on my own for the day and both of those seem like they'd be more fun to do with a friend. Instead, I apportioned my day into small chunks of culture. I did a one-hour bus tour of the city highlights, hit a couple of museums, and then wandered around town admiring the beautiful architecture and taking in the city's vibe. Did you know that Liverpool with be Europe's "Culture Capital" in 2008?

One of my bite-sized chunks included a visit to the Tate Liverpool which this year is hosting the famous/infamous - Turner Prize, "a contemporary art award that always provokes debate and is widely recognised as one of the most important and prestigious awards for the visual arts in Europe". Luckily this year there are no dismembered cows or pickled sharks or condomed Virgin Marys or whatever it is that typically upsets people. My favourite of the four entries was this guy who dressed up in a Bear suit every night for 10 nights in a row, and filmed himself wandering around alone in the empty lobby of the Berlin Museum. A commentary on the cold war, amongst other things. Guy in a Bear suit. Artistic genius!

Beware, the Jumper-Ooters!!

I've been getting a good taste of Scottish history in the last few days, with visits to the Scottish landmarks St Andrews, Stirling Castle, and the William Wallace Monument. But thus far the highlight would have to be last night's Witchery Tour, a night-time tour of the more ghastly and ghoulish bits of Edinburghian history. The tourguide is himself one of the unfortunate victims of the city's once merciless justice system; an executed highwayman who goes by the catchy moniker of Adam Lyal(deceased). Every night, Adam leads a group of thrillseekers around on a walking tour on which he tells stories about life in the burgh in the 17th century and later. Witch torture, hangings, as well as stories of the fetid and disgusting conditions of life in a city of 40,000 people without a sanitation system. As we wended our way through narrow "closes" (alleyways running between buildings), stairwells, and backstreets, we were startled by "jumper-ooters" - costumed spooks and ghouls who would burst out unexpectedly from dumpsters at appropriate moments in the stories. It was all in good fun - the costumes were so cheesy that there was no chance of real terror - but the old startle reflex kicked in a few times!