Sorry folks, I hate to get political, but I kind of figure that anyone who reads a blog called "Only in Israel" is probably a friend of Israel. So I couldn't keep quiet over the rantings of Pink Floyd's Roger Waters in his call to boycott Israel.
As a citizen of Israel, I am engulfed in a society that welcomes all ethnicities and faiths. A call to the utilities company or to the national health fund will present choices of being addressed in Hebrew, Arabic, English or Russian. That, of course, is not meant to slight the many Ethiopians, French, Filipinos, Darfurians, Italians, Swedes, etc. that make their home here as well.
People who don't spend time in Israel but spend lots of it watching television might be rather surprised to find that all the people I mentioned above can travel freely around Israel, producing a wonderful flavor like a Middle Eastern stew. During the 3 weeks I spent at my mother-in-law's bedside at a hospital in Jerusalem, I witnessed this togetherness in a rather undesirable setting. Nevertheless, Arabs and Jews shared rooms and hugs, snacks and stories. They worked together as hospital staff, caring for the sick and injured around the clock, regardless of CNN reports that we are all just really out to kill each other. They did what they do everywhere here on a daily basis: they live their lives, pursue good health, try to do a good job and they do the best they can. Just mere weeks after my MIL's release came a four day hospitalization with my son. I would say that on the fifth floor of this beautiful, five star wing, the Jewish-Arab guest ratio was about 50/50. Naturally, as usual, we mixed. When my hands were dry, I asked an Arab woman if she had hand cream. She sweetly found me some. Some of the women offered me fruit, which I eagerly accepted. I visited with them in the halls, while one of the Arab orderlies kept me supplied with coffee, assuring me that I should let him know if I need anything. The Jewish guests and staff members were as attentive. The physician on call made me a fresh cappuccino, while the young female resident who miraculously showed up as I paced the hall one day stuck to my son like glue before, during and after his dreaded procedure, chatting with him like an old friend. The Arab patients could be seen praising and thanking the staff for the outstanding care provided to their loved ones.
This in Israel? An apartheid state? Really?
While one might think that I am merely rehashing the fondest memories I could muster out of a couple of nightmarish situations, I think you get my point. Friends, these are not stories of apartheid. These are the stories of Israel's citizens. What makes it sticky is when the good people have to make excuses for the bad ones. When a street cafe gets blown up, along with 20 innocent civilians, security must tighten. A security checkpoint is not for restricting the travel of citizens; it is for restricting the transfer of bombs and weapons, the terrorists' instruments of choice, responsible for the deaths of thousands to date.
I am proud to live in a country where the heart prevails over the media, where all citizens are protected, healed and brought joy, even during times like the ones we live in. And I won't expect to find a single soul shedding tears over Roger Waters' refusal to perform in Israel. We've done far better with the likes of Paul McCartney, Alicia Keys, and Andrea Boccelli.
If you have never been to Israel, I invite you to come and see it for yourself. But I recommend you stay away from the hospitals......comfortable as they may be.
I guess he figured he had nothing to lose. His anti-Israel stance has been well-established but when it's in my face, well, you understand. His comparison of Israel to Nazi Germany while floating a pig balloon marked with a Star of David during his concert in July is hypocritical at best. His statements inciting others to believe that Jews are “extremists” and “weird”, that they are not like other peoples of the earth, and that they feel that those who are not Jews should serve them are eerily reminiscent of the Nazi propaganda of that era.
As a citizen of Israel, I am engulfed in a society that welcomes all ethnicities and faiths. A call to the utilities company or to the national health fund will present choices of being addressed in Hebrew, Arabic, English or Russian. That, of course, is not meant to slight the many Ethiopians, French, Filipinos, Darfurians, Italians, Swedes, etc. that make their home here as well.
People who don't spend time in Israel but spend lots of it watching television might be rather surprised to find that all the people I mentioned above can travel freely around Israel, producing a wonderful flavor like a Middle Eastern stew. During the 3 weeks I spent at my mother-in-law's bedside at a hospital in Jerusalem, I witnessed this togetherness in a rather undesirable setting. Nevertheless, Arabs and Jews shared rooms and hugs, snacks and stories. They worked together as hospital staff, caring for the sick and injured around the clock, regardless of CNN reports that we are all just really out to kill each other. They did what they do everywhere here on a daily basis: they live their lives, pursue good health, try to do a good job and they do the best they can. Just mere weeks after my MIL's release came a four day hospitalization with my son. I would say that on the fifth floor of this beautiful, five star wing, the Jewish-Arab guest ratio was about 50/50. Naturally, as usual, we mixed. When my hands were dry, I asked an Arab woman if she had hand cream. She sweetly found me some. Some of the women offered me fruit, which I eagerly accepted. I visited with them in the halls, while one of the Arab orderlies kept me supplied with coffee, assuring me that I should let him know if I need anything. The Jewish guests and staff members were as attentive. The physician on call made me a fresh cappuccino, while the young female resident who miraculously showed up as I paced the hall one day stuck to my son like glue before, during and after his dreaded procedure, chatting with him like an old friend. The Arab patients could be seen praising and thanking the staff for the outstanding care provided to their loved ones.
This in Israel? An apartheid state? Really?
While one might think that I am merely rehashing the fondest memories I could muster out of a couple of nightmarish situations, I think you get my point. Friends, these are not stories of apartheid. These are the stories of Israel's citizens. What makes it sticky is when the good people have to make excuses for the bad ones. When a street cafe gets blown up, along with 20 innocent civilians, security must tighten. A security checkpoint is not for restricting the travel of citizens; it is for restricting the transfer of bombs and weapons, the terrorists' instruments of choice, responsible for the deaths of thousands to date.
I am proud to live in a country where the heart prevails over the media, where all citizens are protected, healed and brought joy, even during times like the ones we live in. And I won't expect to find a single soul shedding tears over Roger Waters' refusal to perform in Israel. We've done far better with the likes of Paul McCartney, Alicia Keys, and Andrea Boccelli.
If you have never been to Israel, I invite you to come and see it for yourself. But I recommend you stay away from the hospitals......comfortable as they may be.
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