The hottest topic in Tel Aviv is how the hell to find an (affordable) apartment. Vacant apartments are snatched up within hours of being listed. Landlords are greedier and nastier than ever.

Yes, we have a housing crisis. It's not just that rents are up (they are, by about $100 per month for standard one and two-bedrooms), it's that there are almost no inhabitable apartments available. And when I write "inhabitable," I point to this listing on homeless.co.il, the portal for renters who are too cheap to pay an agent's fee (i.e., most Israelis).

Don't read Hebrew? No problem - allow me.

"For rent, fully renovated apartment, architecturally designed, four westward-facing windows, new kitchen and shower, near the beginning of Dizengoff Street, about 100 metres from Habimah [home of the Israel Symphony Orchestra and the National Theatre, in the heart of Tel Aviv], the apartment is at the back of the building and quiet. It is at basement level." (my emphasis).

Look, there are even photos of this beauty:





Yes, for a mere $620 per month, all this can be yours. Check out the view of the cinderblock wall! Prescription for Prozac to ward off the environmental depression, not included.

Okay, I've lived in Manhattan and Tokyo; in the latter I paid $900 per month to inhabit room 206 in this indescribably depresssing gaijin house, together with 17 housemates. The walls were so thin that I could hear the girl in the next room turning the pages of her book - I kid you not. So I suppose I shouldn't complain about Tel Aviv rents. Unfortunately, though, times have changed - and so has my income.

In other words, I think I'll be staying where I am for awhile. Be it ever so humble... (and believe me, it is).

A comment on Michael Totten's most recent post:

Perpetual Refugee is doing something very interesting to Lebanese and all Arabs I presume. The first time I met Israelis in Aya Napa, Cyprus, I was filled with curiosity and apprehension. To me, it was like meeting Martians for the first time, IN THE SENSE that a)I never actually thought I would meet one, and b)the way they are portrayed it is as if they are not really human, really real. So it was an interesting experience for me to realize that when it is all said and done, we are all human beings after all.

From the diary of Neda Sarmast, an Iranian woman who participated in Breaking the Ice, a peace mission that took Muslims, Jews and Christians on an arduous trek across the desert,  from Israel to Libya, during her first days in Israel.

At this time, the government of Iran knows no greater enemy than Israel... and it doesn't make much sense to me when I look in the eyes of a fellow human being. I just see another person and wonder to myself, how would this world look if we all simply agreed to disagree and just looked at each other and fellow planet mates as equal children of God. Maybe it's naive and a lot to ask for and quite a lofty thought - but I do believe.

An Israeli friend with whom I shared a hotel room at a workshop for Palestinian and Israeli journalists in Jordan last March (photos here).

I always felt threatened by the sound of spoken Arabic. I'm glad that I have an opportunity now to get over that fear. And it's good to talk to them and discover that they're really human beings just like us.

Conversation with a 36 year-old Palestinian journalist friend over lunch at Stone's Restaurant in Ramallah. He:

You know, it took me 32 years to see Israelis as human beings.