the media

I hate to get political, especially about a place that is so political, and complicated. But I figure it's my blog. And it's my place. And well, here goes...

The BBC has been my homepage for about 6 years. Not because I particularly like it, but because it provides me with better coverage on issues around the world than any local news source (in Israel or the States).

Two things I dislike about the BBC.
One: they generally ask readers opinions on trivial stories, instead of important ones.
Two: they are overtly biased in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Several days ago the frontpage headlined a story about the blasting of a home in Gaza which killed a Hamas militant or leader, along with his family, and a baby. While Israel generally takes responsibility for such actions, it has denied involvement in the incident. Hamas retaliated by firing rockets into Israel.

Two days later in the Middle East section was the following update: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7452540.stm Hamas militants, in preparation for an armed operation, were responsible for the blast which they blamed and retaliated against Israel for.

If the first story was important enough to make the front page, shouldn't the correction, or follow up? Afterall, the Austrian cellar incest case made the front page, as did EVERY subsequent story. In case we didn't know the family was upset, or the father would be incarcerated...

In college I majored in Human Rights and protested in Quebec, D.C., and Miami. At some point I began to feel that the activist moment was hypocritical and the media was unreliable.

New students interested in coming to protests would admit knowing little about the issues. They were told to come along and learn on the way. I felt if you were going to a protest you better know why you're there.

Around the same time I realized that the independent media was no less biased than the CNN, BBC, or NYTimes they criticized. If I wanted to learn about an issue I'd have to read it all and piece it together myself.

So see, I understand the reality of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Israel isn't something I learned to point to on a map in late 2000 on the way to a protest after the second intafada began. I had been educated from a left wing perspective on the conflict my whole life. And now I live in Israel.

It's my own experience with Israel that has made me question every other protest slogan. Every other story around the world. How much is missing from what we hear?

I've changed a lot since my college days... I still believe in equality, justice, and human rights. But I also believe in rallying and working for peace, tolerance, and understanding, instead of protesting and yelling against war.

in white or color

I've been doing a lot of photo editing lately. Not the type involving chemicals, red lights, and glow in the dark timers... the type I used to enter 12 hour meditative trances doing in college, the type I really love. But rather the type I used to shun, the type that involves a chair, a mouse, and my laptop; movement of the wrist, and rubbing of the eyes.
It's been over six months since I left India. And though I posted over a thousand pictures to share with family and friends, I never did anything else with them. Never cleaned them up, sorted through them...
And these past few days I've been inspired to continue, and not by the end product - I don't yet know what it'll be - but by the images and how they touch me. The moments I've captured. And I've realized it's time to start sharing. My work will never speak to anyone if I keep it hidden.
During this blurry-eye inducing endeavour I noticed something interesting. The color white is practically non-existent in nature. Just about the only time a non-synthetic white appears in my photographs is when I've overexposed the sky and it emits a blinding white light - a technical error. Yet I look around and I'm surrounded by white. My computer screen, the Poland Springs bottle cap, the coiled "creative" adapter, the paycheck I have yet to cash, the tissue poking out from the box, the Dr. Fischer moisturizer tube, the plastic bag in my trash... it's everywhere.
We seem to bleach everything to get this "pure" color. Our bread, our rice, our paper... We seem to use white as a base on which to splash color, we seem to think it's about the only suitable "color" to put others on. Yet in nature the abundance of colors create a visual harmony. The blue sky, the green plants, the brown earth, fruits, vegetables, flowers, animals... color is everywhere. And where we do find a shade of white - in seashells, mushrooms, animals (doves, swans, lambs, etc) - it's so spectacular - so different - that we awe at it.

a transferred obsession

Growing up I never distinguished between the United States and Israel. Anyone who grew up in a multi-cultural multi-lingual home may understand this feeling.
It was only at 22, upon emigrating to my birthplace that I began to understand the significant separators between the two countries. An 11 hour plane ride, an ocean, Africa, language, climate, diet, religion, fashion, attitude, and lifestyle. Israels culture, I realized, was very much her own.
As a child visiting Israel I thought my native country was obsessed with my home country. From the American flag murals on bomb shelter walls (post gulf war), to Bart Simpson purim costumes, Madonna, Michael Jackson, MTV invasion, and 90210 reruns, obsession was a fair assesment in the early 90's.
Today Israeli's have taken notes and moved beyond to create their own equivalents of MTV, 90210, and even American Idol . Israeli technology, fashion, and media have grown into their own, and in instances surpassed their model's.
I spent Friday night in the city (Manhattan for those of you outside the radius) and began to feel as if Israel's days of obsessing over America were gone only to be replaced by America's obsession with Israel.
During dinner Israel came up and I gave a five minute shpeil on my jumbled thoughts and feelings on the place I love. Little did I realize the topic would haunt me the rest of the evening. Dinner was following by a night at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. The MC was going through the borough's and states getting shout outs from the audience and when she hit the international map I looked over at H sitting on the floor, and acknowledged I should probably keep my mouth shut. My eyes returned to the MC to notice the spunky young black woman had chosen a kaffiyah with which to accessorize her outfit for the evening. And the feature (the poet of the night)? A young Muslim woman sporting the traditional head covering and long sleeves. The first words of her first poem? Free Free Palestine. I shrunk into my seat and braced myself for the emotion I thought bound to follow. Lucky for me, the young poet was so nervous (she claimed) that she was loud, obnoxious, and annoying between her pieces and the power of her words lost much of the desired effect should have, would have, could have had (on me at least).
Several other poets threw in the word Palestine for good measure and effect, and a young black nurse who performed a piece of lost love refered to the unique left to right reading of Hebrew.
We stepped out into the cool Manhattan night, the show continuing without us (it was half past 12 and H was getting up early in the morning). As we wandered through the city we stopped at a convenience store and as I turned from the cashier to the exit I noticed Israel on the front page of a paper. It wasn't anything big, significant, or exciting...
Which brings me back to Madonna. Whether it's the stars looking towards Kabbalah and Jewish mysticism, the Christians in awe of Israel and the bible, the liberals crying for Palestine, the yuppies and the hippies lounging at hookah bars* or falafel stands, or the politicians "seeking a partner for peace" in the middle east, or most currently Adam Sandler playing an Israeli in Hollywood's "The Zohan" (which is bound to irritate me... it seems like the states gives Israel as much thought today as Israel gave America post "Desert-Storm". Coming to the states didn't detach me from the little bustling country I've come to call home (also).

*I realize hookah's aren't uniquely Israeli...but what is an Israeli?