A letter from Israel

Brass with silver inlay from the Ayyubid or Mamluk period (14th century, Egypt or Syria) I haven't been in a museum for a long time. This #$% corona virus has not only made nearly everyone 'untouchable' but has also robbed us from enjoying ancient art! One of the most amazing, and little celebrated, joys of life is to stand in front of a glass cage in a museum. In my humble opinion of course 😊.  Ancient glass jars with a very modern design. One gets to appreciate the beauty that fellow human beings have made. These artists may have lived long before us, or come from a part of the world that one would never travel to. And yet there is a connection to these artists via their art. They made something for someone else to enjoy and appreciate and that is exactly what we as museum goers do. I don't think the artists whose work is displayed in the Museum for Islamic Art would have ever dreamt that their work will be marveled over in Jerusalem by Israeli Jews, Christians and ...

Rain is so precious and anticipated here in Israel.  Our long hot summers parch the land, man and beast. It's not just the heat - the hot winds from the Arabian peninsula squeeze the last drops of life out of any living organism and cover everything with a thick layer of dust. It is no wonder that by the end of September, we start looking at the skies. Our very souls thirst for rain by then. This is also when religious Jews start to pray for rain three times a day in their daily prayers. By the end of September, we've all had enough Israelis start opening their weather apps again to check the weather. During the summer it is very unnecessary to know that it will be another HOT day.  We don't need to see a big dark red warning sign, filled with an impossible high number, to know that it hot as hell. Again and again, for every single day of our long hot summers? Come September, we wait with bated breath for that first rain shower. It is called "yoreh" At first, I th...

Photo credit:  James Hawkins We do not pull on our sweaters just yet. It’s more the scent of fresh wine and the squeals of wild boar that signal autumn’s arrival in Israel. Here, the weather has two modes: rain and not rain. When it rains in Israel, it’s cold. The rest of the time, we either boil in the heat or simmer under it. Our summers technically last nine months, and they’re not what you’d call “cool.” If the rain doesn’t come, the heat lingers, and lingers, and lingers ... making our long summers endless. Most of us still wear sandals and shorts well into October. How do you know it’s autumn in Israel if the temperature doesn’t cool down. There are a few subtle signs that summer is slowly coming to an end: The Sea Squill Blooms These flowers bloom around September and last for three to four weeks. Their beautiful white heads stand tall, stretching defiantly against the dry, dusty landscape. Ripening Pomegranates Pomegranates swell and ripen towards the end of su...

  We are in a second lockdown in Israel and it is much worse than the first one. During the first lockdown, even though we were all very worried, we were happy to protect the compromised and stay at home. Our infection and death rates were of the lowest in the world. Israel was praised all over the world for taking such swift action in these uncertain times. And yet, here we are again in a second lockdown. One of the first countries to do so because our infection rates are scaringly high. We seem to reach a new record of infected people everyday. Three thousand a day, four thousand a day, even up to seven thousand a day. We have even surpassed the USA in daily corona virus deaths per capita .  I cannot help but think that this situation is such a good metaphor for life in Israel. We are good at handling a crisis. We know what to do if a bomb explodes, or if we see a suspicious package or someone fainted on the train.  One day on my commute, when I was still commuting, the...

The days are still hot in Israel. Very hot. We barely survive from one heatwave to the next and the air conditioning units hum in the background 24/7. The only time we dare to go walk or run is either early in the mornings or in the evenings, long after the sun has set. Not that there is much to see outside - the land is scorched and dry. Only the long dead weeds are still visible in the fields but they themselves are also slowly crumbling into dust. The only bit of greenery is from the long-suffering olive trees covered in a year’s dust. But wait!  What are those long stalks covered with little flowers? It is the hatzav!  The hatsav, Urginea Maritim a, known in English as the sea squill, is a unique Israeli wildflower. It is unusual and different in many ways.  The special features of the sea squill The sea squill's blooming period is at the end of the summer and not in the spring time like all the other wildflowers. The 'end of summer' does not mean that the days are su...

The country of Israel is small. It is actually quite tiny if you compare it to other countries. We are even smaller than countries such as Cuba, Ireland, Moldova and Puerto Rico.  It is more or less the same size as New Jersey in the USA or the Kruger National Park in South Africa. As a South African, I used to wonder where all the people live ( 8 million) because I know the Kruger National Park and though it is full of animals, it is not heavily populated by people..:) Later I realized that most Israelis live in apartments and not houses and also that we live quite close to each other.  But let’s go back to Israel’s size. So how big, or small, is it really? The total area of the State of Israel is 22,145 square km (8,630 square miles). The land area  is 21,671 square km. It is 420 km (260 miles) long and 115 km (71 miles) wide. You can cross the width, from the Mediterranean Sea to the Dead Sea in 90 minutes by car. It will take you about nine hours to cross the country ...

In a northern-ish corner of the Old City in Jerusalem, not far from the Damascus Gate and right at the edge of the Via Dolorosa, hides the Austrian Hospice of the Holy Family in Jerusalem. Outside the gates of the hospice, you find yourself in hustle and bustle of the Muslim quarter. Inside the hospice you will feel as though you have time-travelled to 19th century Europe. I first thought that I got the wrong address on the day that I visited. The building on 37 Via Dolorosa street looked like a large and imposing wall with a large and imposing wooden door. A huge and ancient door that was very firmly closed. A few locals, who were sitting in the shade on the steps, confirmed my feeling that I was not at the right place.  But this is Israel, and I know that the locals are always happy to help. “Is this the Austrian Hospice?”, I asked them. “Yes”, says one of the step sitters. “Do you know if it is open today?”, I asked. We are still living in the shade of the corona virus and many ...

Israeli watermelon have been modified to have soft edible white pips It is not an exaggeration to say that Israelis are hot-tempered and love to argue. It is sort of a national sport here. It is actually surprising that in such a small country, so many people find so much to argue about. Apart from the usual suspects such as politics, religion and parking spots, the people of Israel can argue about trivialities such as the shaded places at the beach, talking on the phone in the quiet train carriage and standing in a supermarket queue. There is however one thing in Israel that EVERY single person agrees about. Their love of eating cool watermelon in the hot Israeli summers. It doesn't matter if it is an Arab, Jew or Christian. Religious child or secular great-grandfather. Everyone passionately loves eating watermelon here in Israel. Most of us eat watermelons at home but it is also a firm favorite at picnics, parties and even restaurants. Be aware though that waterm...