Spotted in Florentine this morning:

Salaam - peace, in Arabic.

The free hugs phenomenon that started in Australia has reached Tel Aviv. Last Tuesday night Idan got his free hugs on Rabin Square (and took some fabulous photos, here). Today the huggers were out on Rothschild Boulevard, which is where I got mine. Then I videotaped my hugger for a few seconds. I must say, a nice warm embrace from a sweet and smiling total stranger is a very nice way to end a long, difficult workweek. I recommend it. Enjoy the virtual experience, below.

Esther, this post is dedicated to you.

Recently a reader wrote to ask me some questions about the Druze in Israel and the Golan - for example, he was interested in knowing why the Golan Druze are loyal to Syria, while the Israeli Druze are loyal to Israel. (Answer: complicated!) While reading his response to my response, I noticed that the Google ads on my sidebar included a link to Druze Date, a website for Druze singles the world over who are looking for a suitable mate - or maybe just a date? Either my sense of humour is coming back, or it's so weak that I'm finding not-so-funny things totally hilarious.



Unlike JDate, Druze Date does not yet have its own Wikpedia page, but there is a very informative page about the Druze themselves - their history, culture and secret religion. Scrolling through the list of countries on Druze Date, I found a lot of profiles for Druze in Israel - but Canada is not even listed. Apparently there are no Druze in Canada.

One of my favourite films is The Syrian Bride (available on Amazon), an Israeli film about a Golan Druze family that stars prominent Arab-Israeli actors like Clara Khoury (the bride), Hiam Abbas (her sister) and Makram Khoury (her father). The film won several prestigious awards at various film festivals around the world - and justifiably so. I promise you will want to watch it more than once.




Next goal: to recruit a Druze blogger!

Oh dear, I've lost my sense of humour and I can't find it - and I find it impossible
really difficult to write when I can't laugh at the stupid stuff. There's a lot going on right now and I will update very shortly. Possibly even later today.

The good news is that my laptop is still humming away. ;)

Your Depression Level: 48%

You seem to have mild depression. A lot of people fall into your range, and it's quite possible you don't need treatment. If you've been feeling this way for a while, you may want to seek help.

Ze Fabulous Noorster and I spent a couple of happy hours wandering around Tel Aviv this Yom Kippur day - which was, as per tradition, hot, dry and sunny. We had a blast. She posted her set of photos here; and mine are here. Clearly, one of us knows how to use a camera  - and it ain't me. ;)

The kids of Tel Aviv had a wonderful, wonderful day. Mwahaha, they seemed to be saying, as they careened around the city's traffic-free roads, the city is ours. All ours!  I shot a video of a bunch of them at the corner of King George and Bograshov (below). For an idea of how noisy and crowded that intersection is on a normal day, check out Ernesto's photos. Also, Idan's photos include some fabulous shots of the Ayalon Highway.

The wake-up call came at 7.30 this morning: John and Y. are in Tel Aviv for the weekend, and we wanted to go to the Carmel Market to buy food for tonight's holiday meal. Below is a short video of my absolute favourite shop in the market - where you can get everything from dates to soba noodles. The brothers who own the shop inherited it from their father, who immigrated from Yemen just after the First World War.

...it seems that I needed a bit of a break from blogging. I am really enjoying the peace and quiet of the period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which starts tomorrow night, but I do promise to tell the tale of the laptop in my next post.

Meanwhile, here's a little Tel Aviv anecdote.

I spent a couple of hours on Saturday afternoon at Tachtit (Underground), a little cafe on Lincoln Street (I took a few photos and posted them in a set, here), reading the newspapers and chatting with various friends. At one point Selim, an old acquaintance and aspiring actor from the Galilee region, stopped by for coffee.

"Ramadan Kareem," I said, while directing a tongue-in-cheek glance at his cappuccino. "I see you're not fasting this year."

"Coffee and cigarettes don't count," he answered in a mock-ingenuous tone. "Oh, and g'mar hatima tova. Are you fasting?"

''Absolutely," I answered. "Between meals."


This is the post I wrote about Yom Kippur last year; the year before that, I wrote a long, personal post called Retrospective on the Day of Repentance - it's still one of my favourites.


Over at Lebanese Political Journal, Charles posted a fascinating little anecdote about a Jewish friend who was visiting him in Beirut during Yom Kippur last year, which again fell in the middle of Ramadan, as it does this year; for some odd reason, the friend decided to break his fast with Hassan Nasrallah and his supporters at an Hezbollah iftar. (at this point we can all mutter, "ooookaaay..."). Go read the post to find out what happens when a nice Jewish boy shows up at a Hezbollah "'do" in Dahiyeh - and do, really, do, check out the comments.