A Wonderful Country

Yesterday was a very “Israeli” day for me.

The national students’ union declared a strike in protest of planned tuition increases at Israeli universities. In Israel, the public universities (including mine) are heavily subsidized by the government, allowing post-army students to obtain a first degree without going into massive debt.

The government’s plan to decrease university subsidies has sent student leaders into a tizzy. Ten campuses went on strike yesterday, with most students either staying at home or engaging in protest activities. Tires were burned, donkeys were paraded (?) and accusations were hurled at the gates of some of Israel’s finest institutions. Posters and placards littering my campus claimed things like, “No Education, No Country.”

Because Israel is so small, something like a nation-wide university student strike can not only take place, but even force the hand of the government. I don’t have evidence, but I bet that Israel has more strikes, protests, demonstrations, marches and general public debate per capita than any country on Earth.

If it’s not the teachers, it’s the municipal workers who are on strike. Or maybe it’s the airport workers, paralyzing all flights for a day. There might not be peace, but the labor union is alive and well here.

The other very Israeli aspect of my day was a 250-guest bar mitzvah celebration I attended in Jerusalem for the little brother of a friend. The family is Kurdish, which means they are Mizrachi Jews (of Middle Eastern origin) as opposed to Askenazi (“white” Jews from America, Europe, etc.).

Below are some defining characteristics of a Mizrachi celebration in Israel, all of which applied to last night’s affair but almost none of which apply to Jewish celebrations in the US:

• My friend and I called the older sister to find out the bar mitzvah boy’s name for the card an hour before the party. Invitations here can be word-of-mouth, or printed, and we got the word-of-mouth kind. It did not come with a name.
• Speaking of invitations, it’s apparently a massive insult to mail such a thing in Mizrachi culture. They must be hand-delivered. At last night’s party, I spotted more than one attendee handing out invitations for an upcoming celebration. This is not considered as tacky as mailing the invitations.
• The party was in a gorgeous hall overlooking the Old City walls, but this did not stop dozen of attendees from smoking throughout the night. I inhaled other people’s cigarette smoke for several hours, thank you. Believe me when I say that none of these smokers cared about the nauseating effects of their habit on other attendees.
• About 20% of the people showed up wearing jeans, many in sneakers. Israel is decidedly less formal than the US, a throwback to its socialist/egalitarian roots. But don’t these people at least have khakis? Wearing jeans to a wedding or bar mitzvah is quite common here, and these are often the same people using the centerpiece as an ashtray.
• The first thing you see at most Israeli affairs is a lock-box with a stack of envelopes. Guests open wallets, remove cash, place bills in envelope, write their name on the front, and slip said envelope into the lock-box. Greeting cards are quite superfluous, like RSVP’s and dress clothes.

Photo of Kurdish dancing from the party last night, with bar mitzvah boy at left