Yad be-Yad school

Today I went to a very special school: It's called Yad be-Yad, which means "hand in hand" in both Arabic and Hebrew. They have both Arabic and Jewish students, starting with the same number of each in the first grade. During the first year the class is taught by both an Arabic speaking and a Hebrew speaking teacher, which means the kids are fairly fluent in bith languages after a year. After that, each teacher teaches in his or her native language, so the kids/ students get to practise both.


It has a wonderful atmosphere, and I couldn't tell which kids were Jewish and which were Arabic. They are taught to accept each other's different opinions, even when they don't agree. They do discuss the conflict, and celebrate both the Israeli Independence Day (a very happy day for the Jews) and al-nakba, the catastrophe, as the Arabs call the birthday of the Israeli state. Of course they also face problems from both side of the society, and only children of moderate parents who think it's a good idea go there. But I hope this project will have many more schools with many students around the country, so some of all the prejudices and hate can disapper when kids play together and become friends.

Read more about the project here.

We've got visa!

Long process with getting all the papers; letter from A's university stating he's studying there for the next year, economical statement, and especially our marriage cetificate in English took some time and effort (first one lost in the mail between DK and Jerusalem, then one fax that didn't work, finally we could pick it up at the Danish Consulate in Jerusalem - spending only an hour trying to find our way in the Technology Park).

The vogon said we still needed some papers, but talked to some collegues and finally she accepted us (though she looked like we have offended her just by showing up and asking her help).

So now we're allowed to stay for the next year, to leave and to return. Wonderful!

Small trip to Bethlehem

The French Cultural Centre in Bethlehem held an exhibition opening of Contemporary French art through the last decade, and that was a good excuse for us to go there. It took an hour by bike each way (would probably have taken longer in bus), and it was easier to get through the car checkpoint than through the pedestrian one (not so many fences and no bag scanning).

Little Town of Bethlehem - where you can still meet a flock of sheep in the street.

The exhibition was nice, but the food was just as great... Contemporary art is sometimes just too strange for me. But I recognised a "picture" with luminosity curves for pulsationg stars, which amused me and made me think about my big gymnasium paper on Cephid variable stars.


Afterwards we spend the eveing at the Bethlehem Peace Centre Bar talking with friends and finally listening to Arabic music, 3oud and violin, and also some singing. Nice and relaxed eveing, and thanks for the company!

Son of Hamas

I've read "Son of Hamas" ("Søn af Hamas" in Danish) by Mousab Hassan Yousef the past two days. It's easily read, if one doesn't get too full of hearing about his experiences with death and terror and torture and hate. It's a true story, the author is son of Hassan Yousef, one of the founders of Hamas, and therefore he was a crownprince in Hamas. But he got hired by the Israeli intelligence service Shin Bet, and over 10 years he helped preventing terror attacks planned by Hamas. Over time he also converted from Islam to Christianity.

It was a bit weird to read about some of the places I now know in Jerusalem; the bombing of a pizzaria on the corner of King George and Yafo (downtown Jerusalem with the main shopping streets), the bombing at the Hebrew University (I've seen the memory plate there next to Frank Sinatra building), and also I now can place Ramallah and Kinneret. It happened here and not so long time ago.

I highly recommend everybody to read it. It gives another view on the conflict, as seen from both Palestinians and Israelis on the same time, and might give hope that others like Musab want to end the conflict rather than keeping it going.

Bomb?!

"Are you ok?"
"Yes.
What's happening?"

And that was how I heard about the bomb in Jerusalem, my Dad in DK (almost) being the first to tell me. A had called just 5 minutes before (the oversea students had been counted at the univeristy to make sure everybody was ok, which is nice).

The busstation is the same one we left from for our Galilee trip, so I know it - but we have our bikes and don't normally go by bus; now we have one more reason to like our bikes. ;)

Some people say it's the start of the third intifada, others say the third intifada should be non-violent, and I just hope everybody stops killing each other. The city is nice, and I have seen that people here do live side by side. They still need to trust each other, and things like this is no good for that. But maybe just talk to your neighbour. Please.

Nostalgia

Been playing Master of Orion II most of the day.
...the weather is just for keeping indoor with hot chocolate, listening to the rain pouring down outside.
And the house is not well insolated, so our electric heater is on max power. Apparently this is cheaper then solar power. (Well, solar power might be scares when it rains...)

Purim and colourful people

Today is Purim Holiday in Jerusalem (it's a walled city and therefore the Purim falls a day after everywhere else...), the festival were Jews dress up and celebrate that Haman, who wanted to destroy the Jewish people, was defeated by Queen Ester and her uncle Mordechai, as writtin in the Book of Ester. This is done by drinking a lot of wine and eating (because the victory was done through a lot of banquetts with the king), bringing presents to each other, often on big trays or dishes.

I went on a bus through the city (my legs and behind didn't want to bike after our 3 day trip to Galilee) and was amazed by all the people dressed up, not only kids but every one! I saw lots of princesses and animals (these were mainly the younger ones), but also Darth Vader, a Viking with horns on the helmet and long, blonde braids, angels (black and white), monsters, or people just wearing a funny hat or wig or Hawaii necklace.

I didn't get to take any pictures, but Kristeliigt Dagblad has a good series of pictures from Puirm, find it here.

Bike trip to Galilee - day 3

We started the day with listening to a Christian service down at the lake's shore. They sang on the melody for "Dejlig er Jorden", a pilgrimsong. Very beautiful in the morning light.

Our first detour on our way around Lake Kinneret was a up on the Mount of Beatitudes (where Jesus is believed to have given his speech "blessed are the..."). There's a relatively new Italian church, a monestry and a wonderful garden, even moreprety right now with all the flowers.

We had found a map at the hostel with smaller biking and hiking paths than what our own map had. We tried to find these biking paths, but apparently they had gone, maybe because of the rain season. So in the Jordan River delta we faced a lot of mud and paths washed away - or just blocked by trees.

After lunch we took the main road to feel we did move. Then we tried to find yet another bike path on the map, and ended up climping a hill of the Golan Heights, on a path which was overgrown with flowers.

But it was maybe the most beautiful view we got from the top, and there were so many different colourful flowers and plants. We could se the city of Tiberias on the other side of the lake, the mountains behind, and see to both the north and south end of the lake.

We caught a bus from the south tip of the lake back to Jerusalem. We would have liked a swim before going on the bus, but all the beaches were private and locked up. So all our fellow passengers had the "pleasure" to share our odour of 3 days hard work in the sun.

Back home with sore legs the treat was bacon! I'm pretty proud of us, it was a tough trip, but really wonderful!

Bike trip to Galilee - day 2

Getting out of Nazareth onto the biking path we had seen on the map was almost as difficult as finding our way in. But on the way we passed a butcher - who sold pork! Or more important: bacon!

We found something that could be the biking path, got a bit lost, but ended up in the right direction. We went on parts of the Jesus Trail, a hiking route from Nazareth to Capernaum, and a very beautiful one on mountains and lots of green nature - and right now also with loads of flowers.

We came out of the mountains and drove down a main road to Lake Kinneret (also known as the Sea of Galilee) - down from above sea level to 200m below sea level at the lake's shore. Our legs got some rest from all the climbing, and I enjoyed the speed and the gorgeous view over the lake and the mountains.

We spottet a fruit plantage and "accidentially" some grapefruit fell down in our hands, and we had to eat them. Nice and juicy - and a welcome variation from all the water we had to drink (the Sun was baking us; thanks to time of year and the light clouds that it wasn't hotter!).

We arrived at the Karei Deshe Hostel, where they had failed to find a receptionist for the day, and the sleepy cousin was put on the job instead. The place looked wonderful - almost too much for us - but the service was non-existing. Though, we got our room and food, and a dip in the lake.

Bike trip to Galilee - day 1

With the bus at 7am from Jerusalem, which dropped us off in Beit She'an at two hours later.


We biked up into the Gilboa Mountains, climbing 400m up over 15km in 2hours. Tough work, but the view from the top was gorgeous. An Israeli soldier pointed out Mount Hermon for us.



After lunch in the green forrest amongst flowers of every colour and shape we free wheeled down from the mountains, heading for Nazareth. We managed to get lost in a city we had to pass through before we could look up to Nazareth. And start another 300m climp up to the city.

We had a bit of problems finding our way in the city (or road atlas is not detailed enough for city navigation), but we finally arrived at the Old City and Fauzi Azar Inn and was greatly welcomed.


After a wonderful shower we rested with a cup of coffee/tea and cake in the beautiful hall of Fauzi, before hunting for food in Nazareth. We feared it would be closed for Shabbat, but mainly Arabs (Christians and Muslims) live in Nazareth, so we had no problems in finding a place. We also listened to a Greek Orthodox Mass in St. Gabriel's Church, in Arabic! I got the text and could follow it, and we both enjoyed the music and to see how the church got more and more full of people joining.

The art of drinking and Purim

Tonight A and I attended a "Pizza Talk" at the Hebrew University (though I don't have security clearing to go there, the guards let me in after seeing my passport and the poster I had for the event and some talks and smiles from both me and A) about what this Purim Holiday coming up on Sunday and Monday is about.

I had heard that this is the day in the year where Jews are supposed to get drunk, and most do so. This is a bit weird, normally religions don't encourage their followers to drink. But the rabbi tonight explained why. Purim is a holiday to celebrate a miracle in Persia, as it is told in the Book of Ester - grab your Bible and read it, it's actually quite fun and not so long. The short of the story is that the king's councellor Haman wants to kill all the Jews, because Mordecai the Jew doesn't want to bow down to him. But Mordecai's (apodted) daughter is Ester, whom the king has just taken as his Queen. Queen Ester asks of the king to not slay his people and he grants this, and the same time he orders Haman hanged in the gallows he had built to hang Mordecai from.

But why drink wine "until you cannot tell the difference between Mordecai's blessing and Haman's curse", as one of the old rabbis put it? Because this "miracle" was done through wine drinking - the king, Ester and Haman was eating and drinking for all their meetings - and therefore Jews should do the same; but only to get merry and fall asleep, not get so drunk that they accidentially kill their friend (there're not so many getting revived these days).

And the day before Purim is a day of fasting, because Ester and Mordecai was fasting - but if this fast would fall on a shabbat, then it's the day before; and since shabbat starts on friday evening, this year the Fast of Ester is on (tomorrow) Thursday.

The kids get dressed up for Purim (like Danish kids do for Fastelavn),
and there's a lots of sweet, coloured cakes. This part I hope to see more
of on Sunday/Monday.

Arabic literature

I found some interesting courses on Al-Quds University on Arabic literature that I want to join. I just have to decide what I want the most; Jahiliya poetry, Palestinian literature, children's literature, Abbasid or Ummayid or Andalusi poetry, or one of the 30 other courses from their BA programme. Next question is if I can follow the classes in Arabic, I'm not sure I can understand so much. But I want to taste different parts and genres of Arabic literature, and I need a teacher to tell me what is good and what is meant. And I would also like to have classmates.

I also came to think of those nonsense poems/stories, I wanted to make. Then I have something to draw! So time to hook up with Hans Wehr and see what I can find. It's not going to be as eloquent as the poem below, but I like playing with words.

Danish hygge

The Danish priest and his wife had invited us over for dinner and "hygge" tonight, and it was nice to get inside a home with lots of books - many of them belonging to the church, but we were more than welcome to borrow them, so now "Son og Hamas" by Musab Hassan Yousef lies on my bed table - with a comfortable inside temperature, because their two girls shouldn't freeze, and get food in Danish style. It's a very musical family; the priest playing the guitar (also at services), his wife playing piano, and their oldest daughter (5) sang a Purim song in Hebrew for us - very cute, though she didn't know what it was about, she just knew the words.

The priest showed us a video about the conflict in Israel between Messianic Jews (who believes that Jesus in the Messiah, but they are NOT Christians) and the Ultra-orthodox Jews, who accuse the Messianic Jews for being undercover Christians, who want to carry out Hitler's mission to destroy all the Jews; because getting a Jew to convert to something else is like killing a Jewish soul. The video can be found here.

Danish service in the Old City

Today we went to the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City to attend a service in Danish by the Danish priest living here. It was funny to be among Danes again, most from Jutland as I could hear on their dialects - Denmark is a small country, but we still have many dialects; no wonder Arabic has so many then!

The chapel with small alter, glass mosaic, and screen with texts and psalms.

The ceremony was held in a chapel, not the main church (which would have been way too big), complete with Danish Psalm books for everybody, an organist (though on piano), and communion. What was special compared to cermons held in Danmark was that everybody introduced themselves in the beginning, because so many different people come every time; the projector with texts and psalm numbers; and the priest played guitar for some of the English prayer-songs. I didn't get a picture of him, but imagine a priest in white robes with a purple "scarf" with Jerusalem crosses on it, with a good ol' guitar.

The tower of the church as seen from the court yard - a very calm place,
when there's not a flock of children running around after candy.

Afterwards there was coffee/tea and biscuits out in the hall, and I got to talk with a nun, who has lived in Jerusalem for 45 years, knows Hebrew, both modern and Biblical, Arabic, Ethiopian, Aramaeic, besides Danish and English, and probably some more I didn't catch. Apparently she makes icons and sell them, teach languages, and right now work for the University in Copenhagen on editing a dictionary for Ethiopian (which is called something else). A very interesting lady indeed! I forgot her name, but will post it later when I get it.

My first concert with HarEl

Today I played my first concert in Jerusalem with the Israeli wind band HarEl, that A got me in touch with. It was a concert on a school for children aged 6 to 12, where girls and boys are divided to seperate classes and areas - and therefore we played two concerts, first for the girls and then for the boys.

In the hall - I liked the decorations on the walls (not so clear in this picture).

We played a variety of music to show the children the different instruments (Pink Panter on saxophone, Trumpeter's Lullaby, drum-solo in Sing Sing), and hopefully they've been inspired to start playing themselves. Though at home in Greve when I've attended this kind of music-promotion, the children had a chance of trying the instruments afterwards, and we didn't do that today - maybe because there were so many children. I fled the hall during the break, it was way too noisy for me, even with my earplugs; and it was not only the children's sreaming talk, but also my fellow musicians who contributed to the noise.

Once again I was reminded how well we've been brought up in the music school in Greve; to not play in the breaks so our ears can rest from all the sound, to play not only notes but also give them full and nice sound so the music is worth listening to (I even saw some of the kids, who're used to this way-too-high level of noise, stick their fingers in their ears, because the sound was bad), not to sms during the concert - and other small stuff like this.

But the kids were cute, I especially wanted to take one red-haired girl with me home, she was adorable! The girls were mainly in pink and purple colours, the boys in blue and black - and every one of the boys had a kippa on, some also the four set of strings coming out from under their clothes, that their more religious fathers and uncles also wear.

Visa Electron

Yay! We've finally gotten cards so we can draw money without paying this stupidly large amount in fee to our Danish banks every time. The trick is to create an account in a local bank, transfer a lot of money to it when the currency exchange rate is favorable (and pay the transfer fee as few times as possible), and the get cards for this account.
But I had hoped for a regular Visa card, not a Visa Electron - which for me is something teenagers get because they otherwise would spend all their money too quickly on nothing. Anyway, it's good to have.

Arabic poetry night

The French Culturel Centre and the Educational Bookshop arranged an evening for Arabic poetry. Three poets were supposed to come, but only one made it - and he read aloud from some of his poems in FusHa, The Most Eloquent Arabic. I didn't understand much, except the main theme of each poem, but I enjoyed the sound of the language. And was amused when he switched to Palestinian dialect to introduce the next poem or talk with the audience.

The poet reciting one of his poems.

After a short break came a man with his 3oud and played and sang for us. He played the 3oud differently from what I have come to know as Arabic style with lots of ornamentations, rather he used harmony (though the transarent, thin kind) and few, pure notes. The audience wished for some songs, and sang along on the refrain, a very sweet habit I also experienced in Cairo.


The exit was through the Educational Bookshop, and of course we had to stop and look at all the tempting books. We managed to only bring one home, on Naji al-Ali and his cartoon character Hanthala. (Take a look here to read about al-Ali and Hanthala.)

Power yoga in Hebrew

I went with A to his yoga lesson in the Sports Complex next to the Hebrew University tonight. It was not the same as I had tried in Ramallah, not at all. In Ramallah we focused on breathing and slow movements, streching, feeling comfortable. Here we jumped and stretched and got all sweaty. And tried to levitate - well, balancing on the front of one foot, while sitting with crossed legs on top of it... I couldn't do it, but I think this might be a way the Indian yoga masters might have seemed to levitate.

There were windows to the room next to, where all the big fitness machines were, each with its own TV screen, so the one exercising could be entertained in his or her own way. Not a temple for the worship of God, but for worship of the body. Which is good, it's nice to exercise. But a bit too much for me like this.

Ammunition Hill

The Ammunition Hill is just next to where we live, and today we went there to figure out what it was about. I expected a museum, as in the closed type inside a building of some sort, but this was open ground also. It's commemorating the Six Day war in June 1967, where Israel concured the rest of Jerusalem from Jordan (and whiped out Egypt's air force, and beated Syria too) after it had been divided for 19 years after the "War of Independence" in 1948. We joined in on a lecture and a movie next to the model of Jerusalem; the movie was very well done in the way that it showed with coloured and moving light on the 3D model of Jerusalem which areas which army held, where the Municipality Border was during the 19 years, and how the forces moved during the Six Day War.

I was a bit surprised to feel so... bad about seeing soliders and gunfire and tanks in a city that's not mine, but which I think I know it by now, even thought the pictures were in black and white. In Denmark we're so used to peace, last time we had war in our country was in 1864 (if we don't count the occupation in 1940-5), so this is the closest I've come to know how people feel, when they see their homes and city destroyed by war.


In the actual museum were, among other things, biographies of all the soldiers, who had fallen in the Six Day War. They were both on interactive screens (only in Hebrew) and on big metal plates as the ones in the picture above. I can't figure out if I think it's repulsive or nice with all these commemorations (not only here but all over the city), but the repulsive might be the aspects of war and extremism (wanting to kill the enemy and/or die for your contry), the nice part that other people remember them.

There also was a collection of rockets of the time, with describtions on the plates on how much TNT they carried, how heavy they were, how long they could reach, and other useful informations...

I'm happy to be a Dane, who don't need to think about war and despair and loosing my home. But I also want to visit a Palestinian museum about the Six Day war and see how they tell the story - only I don't think there is such a museum.

Saba for sadness

My 3oud teacher have told me to practise on a piece called "howa saHeeH al-hawa ghallâb" (هو صحيح الهوى غلاب) [It is true that love is irresistible], composed by Zakaria AHmed and sung by Um Kalthoum. It's on maqâm Saba, which is one of the most sad maqâmât.

Saba contains of the following notes: d; e half-b; f; g b; a; b b; c; d b (or re-mi half flat-fa-sol flat-la-si flat-do-re flat as I've learned to say here):

In other words it's a very Arabic maqâm with both quartertone and with a 1½tone interval (g b; a), and my teacher warned me that maybe I couldn't listen to it, cus it sounds so different than our Western minor and major scales. But he gave me a recording of it (thanks to Bluetooth on cellphones! Another recording can be found on youtube here) and complained that the 40 minutes of music was too short time for Um Kalthoum to sing.

He played it for me once (it's repeated in my notes) and then stopped, saying he would start to cry if he continued. "You have to feel the sadness when you play." And I should try to ornamentate it, not just play the written notes.

Not so funny encounter

A and I met for a quick dinner "date" in our busy scedule, and ended up with our falafel sandwiches on a lawn outside Herod's Gate. At some point we kissed, and then a Muslim man came up to us, warning us not to do that here, cus "you can be stoned for that!" We replyed that now we've been here for more than a month and noone has said anything yet.

When we left the spot some five minutes later, an apple followed us in high speed, though luckily it didn't hit us. I suspect the Arab boys, who'd gathered close to where we sat, for throwing it - but it might just be my prejudices... Anyway, I severly dislike this kind of "perker"-behavior, no matter with cultural background or which skin-colour the "perker" in question has.

I don't think we would experience being thrown things at in the Jewish quarters of Jerusalem (A has one or two other times had Arab boys throwing things at him on his way to the university when we stayed in the Old City). Sigh. I'm all for dialogue and co-existing, but both sides have to agree on that.

More music, now symphonic

I was asked today by one of the teachers at ESNCM if I would like to play principal clarinet in the conservatory's symphony orchestra. Yes please! He would leave the notes for me at the reception, and first rehersal will be on this coming sunday. In Birzeit University, which is close to Ramallah, and where the the main branch of ESNCM is.

I've now got the notes for the Overture to Mozart's Don Giovanni, Sibelius' Valse Triste, and a suite by Dvorak. The only problem is that they are so symphonic, that they are for A clarinet - as is usual for a symphony orchestra - and mine is a B flat clarinet. But I'll transpose them (thanks to Finale for helping!), and I look very much forward to rehersal on sunday!

Who's crossing the street?

Close to New Gate, where Jaffa Road ends at the Old City (we're calling the square "Mamilla View" because we can't find an official name for it), big light intersection, and across I spot monk. In brown robes and all. And on a bike.

And this is quite normal in Jerusalem close to and inside the Old City, where you can easily pass three different kinds of monks, nuns, religious heads or pilgrims in special clothes - the traditional Jews don't count, there's so many of them; but I still think they look funny with hats and curls and long, black coats.