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?