About this Blog

Welcome to the blog I will keep as I head abroad for a year in Haifa, Israel. I have been awarded a Fulbright scholarship to compare the prosodic systems in American Sign Language and Israeli Sign Language. If all goes well and I can get the work done efficiently, I will also have time to do a preliminary look into Al-Sayyid Bedouin Sign Language prosody as well.

Each post in this blog is labelled according to the audience I have in mind for that entry, and the list of the "Labels" is available in the right column along with a search box. A list of each entry title and date is also available in the left column for your browsing pleasure.

Welcome and Bruchim Habaim.
Showing posts with label Sign Language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sign Language. Show all posts

Friday, July 1, 2011

Shavuot, Israeli Int. Program, Driving and Parking in Israel

I just arrived back in the states, but still have a few notes jotted down to mention about my final few weeks in Israel. I celebrated Shavuot with Beit Eliahu, and it was great, of course. Shavuot celebrates when God gave the Law to the Israelites at Mt. Sinai. I cannot get over the parallels between Moses and Jesus, and between the meaning and traditions of Passover and Jesus’ death, and between the first Shavuot, when God gave the Law and the Shavuot after Jesus’s ascension, when the Holy Spirit came upon the new believers. This is a whole blog entry on its own, but if you want to hear it, email me or something. But basically, both Moses and Jesus narrowly escaped death as infants when the reigning king had all children under two-years-old killed, both spent a bunch of time in the desert before re-entering to call the Israelites to freedom (albeit for very different reasons), etc…the first Passover and exodus really solidified the Israelites as a people. Jesus’ death and resurrection created a new people, where one had not been before (Like how Paul explains in his letter to the Romans and all o’ that). At the first Shavuot, God declared how his people would conduct themselves, and at the one when the Holy Spirit fell, He wrote his law upon their hearts, and gave them power to live out the lives he calls each of us to.

Anyway, there’s a bunch more of course, but that’s where my thoughts were floating during Shavuot.

About two weeks before my family came, I got to visit the interpreter training program at Bar Ilan University. They have a two-year program in which students come once a week, all day on Sunday, to learn the ethics of interpreting, and some theory and process. I wish I had more time to learn more of their curriculum (and had more Hebrew), but it was great to meet everyone and get a taste for it. And I was shocked (again) to see that unlike in the states, even if everyone knows ISL, it is not an assumed norm that people will sign if a deaf person is in the room. I have talked with a few different deaf Israelis, and they have all expressed disappointment, but resignation to this norm. They’ve all visited the states, and know that the culture is in stark contrast there. They each said that it is desirable that if people know ISL/ASL, that they would sign if a deaf person is present, but also said when they were in the USA and people did it, it felt awkward and new to them. Like they had too much influence on the room’s dynamics. I experienced that feeling this year time and time again when I entered a room in which everyone was speaking Hebrew, and the moment I walked in, everyone switched to English for me. Of course the difference is that while it is new to me, Hebrew is accessible, and no one hesitated to help me when needed…it’s a situation to be considered, and my deaf Israeli friends and I talked about their desires, choices, and possible consequences of each choice. I am curious to see what they chose and what the culture will look like given another decade of development.

Finally, I had occasion several times recently to be in a car in Israel, and several things stood out to me. Both from my observations from the roadside, and while in cars, I’ve noticed: Israeli’s do not drive and talk on the phone at the same time. The guy who pulled over to answer his phone while giving me a ride home explained to me that if you get caught, you get two points on your driver’s license and a large fine. My limited Hebrew and his limited English prevented us from much more discussion on the difference between the countries.

I have heard they’re doing this now in the states, but I’ve never seen it. Apparently when there’s a speed trap here, where the officer is on the side of the highway pointing the speed gun at the cars, if one is caught speeding, the officer does not hop in the car and pull over the driver. The gun simply videotapes the license plate and a few weeks later a speeding ticket arrives in the mail. I’ve heard of this with running red lights, but I was surprised to hear about it with a speed gun.

Similarly, company cars have a chip or something in their gas tank, so when an employee fills up the tank, they do not need cash or a card or anything. They simply pump the gas and drive away. The gas pump recognizes the individual tank and charges the company directly for the gas.

Parking in Israel? If you’re registered, no need to find a parking meter/machine (like we had to with our rental car – not too easy to find!). There are three ways to do pay. Either at a machine nearby, where you get the receipt and put it in the window, like I’ve done at many places in the states. Second, you can have a machine that hangs inside your window that displays the date and time. Somehow you put in the machine where you are parked and how long you want, I guess, and get a bill for it, or have an account, or something. Thirdly, you can call or text in the location where you are parked and charge it to an account. The coolest part of this option is that when I was sitting having coffee with someone, she excused herself for a moment after looking at the time to make a quick phone call and add time to her parking “meter”…from her seat! I was astonished. Do we not do this because of the size of our country??

Finally, I’ve heard of cars that tell you when you’re too close to something in front of behind you, but I saw my first one about a week before my family arrived. The little machine on the dashboard beeped when it got within a certain proximity to an object before or behind the car, and then showed yellow, orange, and red on a little line of lights as the car grew closer. My friend driving said it’s not entirely accurate – the car is more paranoid about hitting something than he was, but still, it seemed like a great feature to me.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Digging, Kayaking, Meeting, Running, Hiking, Drama-Resolving...what a week! :-D

Well, the time has come. I am awaiting my family (whose flight is delayed a few hours), and my time in Israel is over. I am still quite behind with my blog, but I’ll give you a few highlights to catch up. The week after the hike to Kibbutz Yagur was quite full. It began with renting a car and driving out to the Galil, meeting up with a friend on the Kibbutz where she was volunteering and joining them on an archeological dig at Ginosar for the morning. It was an incredible (albeit very short) experience, digging in three-hundred year old dirt with picks and brushes, finding lots of pottery, a bead, and even some popsicles. I learned about the process of identifying the levels where we were digging, sifting through the dirt for finer finds, and their daily routine. Before the hottest part of the day (though it got quite hot as early as nine or ten – I’d met them at 5am), we packed up our tools and buckets, dusted off a bit, had breakfast, and head out.

I was lucky enough to join them on a day they were having an outing, and an hour later we all piled in pairs into kayaks and rowed our way down the Jordan river to our awaiting bus. We returned to the kibbutz for lunch and then I hopped in my rental and cruised back to Haifa, dropped it off, and caught a bus up to the lab for the lab meeting I was to lead. I had selected the first to articles in a series that is in progress, explaining the transcription process that one of my professors and colleague have designed. The meeting went well, we had some great discussion and laughter, and I think each left with more to digest along the way.

That was Monday. Tuesday I ran in my first 10K race ever – gosh, first one ever and I chose the one that went up and back down a mountain! But it went extremely well, and I was thrilled with my time (just over an hour and five minutes), and…got a T-Shirt for it! I am truly an American in that respect. (My friends here, from Israel, Russia, France, Holland, etc. all inform me that Americans are always wanting T-Shirts from everything they do. I enthusiastically agreed, “T-Shirts are cool!” :-p)

Wednesday…oh dear, I’ve forgotten. I know it was a very full week, with activities every day and every evening, but this one has escaped my mind.

Thursday I met a friend down at Mifratz early in the morning and we caught a bus back out to Kibbutz Yagur to continue on the trail. We conquered the climb to Isfyia so quickly we couldn’t believe we were already to the top (the beauty of the hike and the good company made the couple hours fly by), and then we trekked the additional four miles over to Daliet El Karmel for some breakfast and souvenir scouting (I wanted to have a good idea of the prices, so as to advise my family when we’re in Jerusalem before coming up north). Then we caught a bus and head back down the hill, her to go help our friend pack to leave from the year, and me to Shema.

Shema that day was…dramatic. We had a big balegan, with tears and revenge attempts, which led the head madrich (counselor) to lead the students in a discussion about the pros and cons of revenge (it turned out to be quite deep and I hope memorable for the kids). Partway through it, I had a golden teaching opportunity, and was able to have a great discussion with the instigator of the drama, just she and me discussing it in rapid and emotional ISL and Hebrew – and on my part, gesture and some English thrown in, and we returned to the group with new perspective, arm in arm, smiling. I felt like truly part of the madrichim. And was thrilled. But sad it would be one of my final weeks there for quite some time.

Friday and Saturday mornings I head out again with my neighbor for bike rides down to the beach and back up. She took me on a new route on Saturday, over past Hof HaCarmel, and then up to Horev, before turning back toward home. Quite a feeling of accomplishment, and beautiful views as we panted our way along. :) The following week would bring Shavuot. :)

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Visiting El Sayyid

The two weeks after Independence Day, I dove into my work again, and upped my running (I signed up for a 10K on May 31st, which went up and back down the mountain, so wanted to prepare myself a lil’ for that), and was in the thick of it all when I got an invitation to accompany the research team visiting a Bedouin tribe in the Negev. Because the tribe has had a high percentage of deaf people in the last several generations, a sign language has developed there, independent from Israeli Sign Language, and the vast majority of people in the tribe sign this language: ABSL, whether they are hearing or deaf. The research team here has been studying ABSL for ten years, visiting the village a few times a year, and they invited me to join on this trip, helping with videotaping data.


Not only was it incredible to visit this village of which I’ve read books and papers, seen a documentary, and heard about from the others working in the lab, but I was also in awe of being in the car with these three “real” linguists. It was quite intimidating, just the thoughts of how much they know, how much they’ve experienced and researched, the length of their CVs compared to mine! And they were so welcoming, just as if I were not some little podunk newbie to the field. ;-) I absorbed all I could of their conversation, and they graciously conversed with me on topics my little brain could grasp and discuss, and I had a great time with them.



We went straight to the village on Thursday, turning off the highway at an unmarked driveway type thing I hadn’t noticed, passed through a paved area reminiscent of a parking lot and down a brief length of paved road onto a dirt road. And viola: a village rose before our windshield.


I had seen other Bedouin villages, so I was not imagining tents or anything like that, but I was not prepared for the vast range of houses that made up this one. Some were what I’ve seen elsewhere, an eclectic amalgam of materials gathered from wherever one may find bits and pieces of whatnot to erect a semi-permanent shelter, to three-story Arizona-type architecturally beautiful, groomed and landscaped plots that I felt a bit underdressed for in my jeans and T-shirt. The village is growing quickly these days and as the researchers made the tour for me of who lived where, it was great to have it sprinkled with their exclamations at new constructions and conjecture as to what will come next.

I spent the four days pestering them with questions on languages, cultures, political situations and how they influence daily life and accessibility, and my head swam with the influx of information that is still marinating somewhere in my cerebrum. The first day we arrived in the afternoon (it’s quite a drive from Haifa to the Negev), and visited the new(ish) school. I was first struck by the learning environment, even apparent from the entrance to the school, where the exterior walls of the classrooms were covered in beautiful murals – one of a world map, another of something relating to biology (I’ve forgotten what it was. A plant diagram?). Do the kids stop while on the playground and contemplate the information presented there daily as they play? Doubtful, but I still say there’s something to it, better than just a plain vanilla white wall.


We met with the principal (a friend of the researchers) and learned about the history of the school, the students, the teachers, and deaf education classrooms, etc. and then received a tour to several rooms. I was happy to get my hands up when we met some of the deaf students, and between my ISL (and very few ABSL signs I’d picked up), and their willingness to work with me, we had some fun conversations (if they can be called that). Mostly we talked about where each of us was from, our ages, families, etc. As the grown-ups conversed, and the recess bell rang, the room filled with more hands flying, and when one student asked me a question I couldn’t grasp, five or six children circled me, each giving it their best shot to bring a look of comprehension to my face. It was slow to come. I got that they were talking about someone important from America. But somehow I’d misunderstood some sign and thought they were referencing a musician. I thought, “Justin Beiber?” He seems to come up quite a bit with this age group recently…but I knew my knowledge base there was slim at best, and hoped for someone more familiar. One girl signed something that seemed very familiar, but I just couldn’t retrieve the referent for that sign, and another tried what I thought was "Judge"? A famous judge in America? Finally I think someone signed "America" and then "Up", very high, and I’m sure my eyes lit up as I mouthed, “OH! Obama?!” We all joined in a little victory dance before I laughed and smacked my head, Oh yeah! That vaguely familiar sign was the word for President. That would have helped. I taught them the sign for Obama (which is difficult even for some ASL signers), and we had a great time walking around the room signing his name. I’m sure he’d be thrilled.



The other researchers and I shared with them a little about how ISL, ABSL, and ASL are all very different, and demonstrated a conversation in ASL so they could see how it differed, and then it was time to head out. I’m trying to remember. I think we head back to the principal’s office for a bit and then piled back in the van to drive over to Beersheva and check into our home-to-be for three nights. The hotel had a nice business lounge, without students to knock on office doors, nor lovely coworkers to distract my very extroverted self, and we all were able to get quite a bit of work accomplished.



The next couple days we visited a few more friends, them catching up since the last visit and introducing me and my background, etc., me practicing my language reception and inadequate, but apparently amusing, production, and I’m sure glowing from head to toe. I don’t know if it showed, but when a girl and her mother both said I “looked deaf”, I think I might have floated right off the mat for joy. :)


At one point we all piled in the van to visit another nearby village where a sister of one of the families had moved to after marrying, and I was even more surprised at the size of the houses and at the ornate decorations. They were very hospitable and we had a lovely visit, lunch, data collection, and more visiting before heading back. As many of the people there were not signing, I found myself quite bonded to the girl who had come with us, who was deaf and excellent at helping me understand when my language failed me. She seemed able to even predict when she was about to sign something I’d wrinkle my brow at, and hardly would my muscles move to form the confused expression than she would already be rephrasing the sentence with more basic vocabulary, or gesturing iconically to aide my comprehension. I was deeply grateful for her kindness to me and sorry to not have more time to deepen our budding friendship (we’re both on the older side of things for that culture and contentedly single for now—a bonding point of sorts ;-)).

Sunday we were able to visit the other school (I believe the first was high school and this was elementary and middle?), and see more of the lesson teaching in action. The wall décor, the manipulatives, the mixture of languages, and how the teacher wove it all together into a smooth, integrated lesson incorporating ABSL, written and spoken Arabic, pictures of ABSL signs, and (they were working on math) abstract quantity symbols blew me away.

The first lesson we saw was on practicing with the “greater than/less than” symbol, and it was inspiring to watch not only the students who breezed through their turn at the board, but also the teacher’s interaction with those who struggled. The pneumonic devices to remember the meaning of the symbol, the various ways to count (on the hands with ABSL, on the board with written numbers, or on the board with circles, etc.), and the teacher’s overall attitude of peace at a student’s incorrect first attempt…it made me want to enroll in the school, myself! ;-)

We visited an older class, working on a lesson in reading comprehension and public speaking (in sign), and then a speech therapy classroom (which left me feeling the way that kind of thing usually does in the states). I was thrilled to see that most of the teachers appeared to be fluent signers, and we met several of the deaf teacher’s aides, who (in our brief attendance) seemed to be quite active partners in the classrooms. One of the researchers is very knowledgeable about the deaf education situation in the states, and it was very interesting to hear her discuss the various circumstances with the people we met along the tour. I also met a girl who had been a Fulbright fellow in Florida, and had traveled around the states a bit during her time there. I wanted to ask more questions about her experience, but the conversation took a different turn, and time did not allow for circling back. But it was great to meet her, though, even briefly.


After seeing the second school, we visited one final friend, whose schedule had kept her unavailable until Sunday, and then, already attached, I pulled myself away when it was quite passed our planned departure time. Back on the road, one researcher had head home a day early and another would stay on an extra night, so just two of us head back north, and I did my best not to talk her head off or question her to exhaustion out of my overwhelmed excitement and stimulated curiosity, and we made it safely back to Haifa, and back to work as usual, with a bit of beaming on my part for days to come, I think. :)

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Na LaGa'at's "Not By Bread Alone"

I’ve been experiencing some writer’s block. It’s a reoccurring phase that pops up every few months in my life that I regularly acknowledge and accept. It always fades eventually. Unfortunately this time it coincides with the exact time I wish to be writing the bulk of a paper I’m working on – and what’s worse, one I am working on with other people. If my delays only affect myself, while inconvenient, they are not too disturbing, but when they potentially affect my coworkers, and I feel like I can’t break through it, it is more distressing. The other problem is that I have now seen a great performance three times, and have yet to blog about it. And it must be done. But I fear in my block I will be far from doing it justice. Well. Here goes. (I did just begin reading a novel today that seems to be starting the process out of the fog, so hopefully this will continue the trek up the hill back to ….oh, I don’t know, all my metaphors have left me.)


Two days ago, the Fulbright organization treated us to a fantastic night at the NaLaga’at Center in Old Yafo (or Old Jaffa). We had a delicious and plentiful dinner at Café Kapish, where all of the servers are deaf. As always, I felt more at home talking with the servers in the manual/visual modality of sign language than I do in my native spoken language, and I was thrilled to introduce all my new Fulbright friends to this part of my life and work. I always hope to expose people in my life to the Deaf world, and it was so great to see them interact with the servers, try out their hands in this new modality, and experience some success at visual communication. I relearned some signs I’d forgotten from the last time I was there (cappuccino, etc.), and also noticed a funny difference in conventional gestures.


Near the end of dinner, the servers presented a short lesson in ISL (Israeli Sign Language). As usual, when the Deaf teacher signed a sign, the majority of Hearing students just looked on politely, perhaps nodding slightly. And as usual, the teacher gestured for them to copy her. To feel the sign in their own hands, just like a French teacher wants you to practice feeling the word on your tongue. But the difference came in the gesture. In the USA, teachers wave their hands toward themselves with their fingers tilted sideways, in a circular motion, to indicate they want audience participation. This teacher put her hands out in front of her with extended elbows and her palms facing up, and then moved her hands up a few times. All the Fulbrighters (we’re a very cheerfully obedient and engaged crew, yes we are!) promptly stood up. I noticed several Americans at other tables do the same. The Israelis laughed, everyone resumed their seats, perhaps a little flustered, but hey, even the slightest exercise/movement and laughter are both beneficial for our brain’s learning process, so I say, “Well done”. :)


We learned signs for greeting, requests, politeness, etc. before returning to our coffee and dessert. I love watching new learners of a sign language. So many of the insights are the same, but they never cease to be endearing and exciting. What is that lyric from As Tears Go By? "Doing things I used to do, they think are new.”


Anyway, after dinner, we head into the theater to see the show, “Not By Bread Alone” performed by actors who are either deaf, blind, or a combination of both. Some of the actors were born deaf and became blind later in life, some born blind and became deaf later in life, some were born both deaf and blind. The play takes place in a bakery where all of the employees bake bread, a tiring but fulfilling process, and during the natural breaks of bread-making (while the dough rises, or while it is baking), dream about the past, present, and future.


http://www.nalagaat.org.il/home.php


At the opening of the show, the characters sit lined along a table kneading the dough, with faceless masks obscuring any individual features. They are just nameless bread-makers. As each introduces him or herself, sharing their deaf and blind status and background, as well as a fact or two about their personality, desires, or hobbies, the mask is removed and a unique and real-life person takes the place of the anonymous bread-kneader.


They each dedicate their loaf of bread to a people group (lonely children, pregnant women, etc.), and as the dough is set to rise, they welcome the audience into their lives of silence and darkness where memories intertwine with fantasies, and the sighted and hearing audience members start to enter a world that has hitherto surrounded them, but has perhaps remained unknown.


The lines are signed either by the actors or by an interpreter stage right, and are spoken in Hebrew by the same combination (although one actor also speaks a bit of Russian – an important segment of Israeli society). Above the stage there is a screen that displays the lines in Hebrew, Arabic, and English. When the script calls for simultaneous freezing or moving by all actors at once, the cues are provided by large bongo-type drums that produce air vibrations that I could feel even from my seat halfway up the audience seating. Blind actors are led very nonchalantly in their blocking by the interpreters when needed, and when the audience claps, they interpret this to the deaf-blind actors by tapping them on the shoulder in the same rhythm as the clapping. The light cues and sound cues are quite extensive, and greatly serve to set the mood for the various scenes.


In the first act while the dough rises, the audience learns of the character’s struggles and dreams. In the second act, while the bread bakes, a magician appears and brings these dreams into an oh-the-magic-of-theater reality. The performance concludes with, what else? A wedding and a feast! The bread is brought out, warm, crispy, and soft, and the audience is invited to the stage to partake and to talk with the actors and interpreters. (And when my family comes, this will also include my father walking around the stage in his own little world looking at the lights, wings, stage design, and standing downstage center counting the seats in the audience. ;-))


There is a lot to hear and see throughout the production, and I notice something new each time (why else do I love theater so much?!), and of course every time I rely less and less on the captions above the stage as my Hebrew and ISL improve, freeing me to take it all in deeper, as well as freeing my mind to consider the implications and messages that have been there each time. It is drastically different from anything I’ve seen in the states, and the different cultural takes on things left me pretty baffled the first time I saw it. I can hardly wait for my family to come visit in June. We are all involved with theater, and I look forward to “debriefing” with them. :)

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

A Gentle Stroll through a Flowing Stream of Consciousness

When I predicted that as I settled into more of a day-to-day routine my frequency of posting would drop off, was I correct? Or have I dropped off my frequency of posting because I predicted that? Anyway, I have not forgotten you, oh blog-readers, and while I have not taken the time to post as often as I did before, I think of you often. As evidence to the fact, I have beside me a growing list of thoughts I’ve had in this day-to-day life of things to share with you. Surely if I had sat down the evening after each thought arose, each would have its own full-length post. As it is, several will only receive honorable mention and be all but passed over. The first of which being that I find it more amusing than I think most do that in Israel one does not choose the cheese for her sandwich by words like “Cheddar”, “Mozzarella”, or “Swiss”, but rather “Yellow” or “White”…even though I see no lack of variety in cheeses at the market or shuk! Go figure. The same goes for the bread at restaurants: Not “white, wheat, sourdough, rye, or pumpernickel” (Who serves pumpernickel?), but “Brown or white?” Brown. Always brown!

Also in the genre of ordering: “Mint Tea” does not mean an herbal infusion composed of mint, peppermint, or spearmint, but rather a mug of hot water with mint leaves in it, and a Lipton teabag on the saucer for you to seep to your heart’s content. The vast majority of places do not serve what I usually picture when I think of “just normal coffee” (i.e., drip coffee). Therefore, if you sit down for dessert and they offer you coffee, a simple “yes” is rarely sufficient, though such an answer will often get you a latte. If you don’t want milk, you better ask for an Americano (espresso and hot water – which I think looks and tastes like drip coffee, but my coffee connoisseur friend assures me I am mistaken), or a Macchiato (which comes in a teeny little mug that takes you back to your days of play-tea-parties with dolls and acorn cups. No, I never actually had such experiences, but I have just recently caught up on the Mary Russell book series, and in the last two books one of the main characters is a little girl who likes to play Tea Party. (By the way, Laurie R. King, if you read this: my friend and I are eagerly awaiting your next book – and Ms. Sterling we hope you will continue to read them onto tape, because what would Mary and Sherlock be without your bringing them to life!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months ago someone asked a group of us from the USA what we missed about our country. Aside from people I miss, I had a hard time coming up with something. He asked if I was saying that Israel is better, and I replied that they are both great places, just each in their own ways. I spent several days afterward contemplating what I miss from home. And I discovered it. Smoking laws. Yep, that’s what I came up with. I miss the attitude that most people from the USA have regarding smoking, and the laws that provide me with some respite from second-hand smoke. I wish I had asked my doctor for a lung scan before coming here, because then we could do a post year-of-second-hand-smoke scan and I think have some interesting findings…will my lungs clean up next year when I return? Anyway, it’s quite telling to me that even after several days of consideration, I only came up with the one thing. :) (And of course I miss a few restaurants and Disneyland, too, but I hardly think those count. ;-))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon after arriving I learned the phrase, “Le’at, le’at”. It essentially means “Slowly, but surely” and is often used as an encouragement to people learning Hebrew. Well, I heard it from various professors, which made sense to me, but when I started hearing it from taxi drivers, baristas, and grocery store clerks, it fascinated me. If someone in the states is clearly still learning English, I smile at them and try to encourage them, and practice patience, but it never occurs to me to say, “You’ll get it, just keep practicing. Day by day it’ll come.” (Le’at, le’at, is literally “Slowly, slowly”.) Here, I find that is a very common response to my broken Hebrew followed by a laugh and a shrug. Is it because of the country’s (and language’s) recent beginning, with such an incredible number of immigrants and new language learners? The government has made a concerted and conscious effort to help new immigrants to learn Hebrew and get integrated into society if they want. Has that making the process so explicit created this culture of encouragement and taking my broken language in stride? It’s so nice! :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At one point in my ISL course, someone was spelling a Hebrew word that had a daled (ך) in it, and was having trouble remembering how to pronounce that letter in ISL (to all you non-signers, when I say “pronounce” I simply mean what shape to make the hand(s), where to put them, and how to move them, etc.). The professor reminded him how to sign “Daled”, and everyone practiced and looked at their hands, commenting on how it is not iconic at all. The professor explained, “You know how the sound that a Daled makes in Hebrew is similar to the sound that a Dee makes in English? Well, ASL has a sign for “D” that looks like the English written “d”. ISL borrowed the ASL “D” into our aleph bet.” Ohhh…. Well, anyway, that’s what he would have said if the students were fluent. Basically, he showed them how to sign it, and then wrote an English “d” on the board next to the Hebrew “ך” and held his hand up next to it to show them it iconicity from the written English letter to the signed ISL letter. It was so funny to hear the whole class verbalize an “Ohhhh” all together, like it was a play and the audience was responding to a well-executed monologue.

My “Ohhh” of course was in response to my own revelation that to them the sign was far from iconic, looking nothing like the horizontal and vertical lines that create a Daled. I was coming from such a different paradigm. Borrowing is so interesting. We have the same phenomenon in ASL with signs we’ve borrowed form LSF (the sign language used in France). Our sign that means looking for something, people often gloss as SEARCH, and explain the handshape as perhaps referring to a magnifying glass or something. But actually it seems to come from an initialized sign from LSF, where the French word of the same concept begins with a C. Go figure. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My research is coming along well. I have finished coding the data and am working with my co-researcher on comparing the ASL and ISL. I’m hoping soon I will also begin a preliminary look at the ABSL data, and will be brainstorming with the team on how to go about conducting a comparison, given the very distinct sociolinguistic situation (and consequently different data set) of ABSL from the other two languages. I’m having a great time; I find it amusing how often, sitting in a coffee shop looking at my data with brows slightly furrowed in concentration, my food or drink all but forgotten by my side, I will all of a sudden, with no apparent instigation (to my fellow coffee drinkers, at least), burst out laughing. Last time it was in appreciation for one of my ASL participants who looked at the English sentence she was asked to translate, signed it to herself a few times, then looked up laughing and said, “I don’t know how to say that in ASL!” I laughed heartily because more than once someone here has asked me how to say some Hebrew word or phrase in English (after explaining it to me for several minutes) and after a beat or two, I’ve blinked and said the same thing, “Well! I don’t know how to say that in English!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am very happy with how my Hebrew is coming along (although, of course I always wish it were better ;-)). I find it is really quite poor in the mornings – as if my brain hasn’t woken up enough to access my foreign language module? But once it warms up, I can conduct most daily interactions smoothly. Well, externally smoothly, at least. I order my food, and at the next question, catch the words “want” and “drink” and answer, “Lo, toda”, happy I caught the important words and that I have my water bottle, so don’t have to try to make a choice and speak at the same time. Then the cashier opens her mouth again and my brain stops congratulating itself and snaps back to attention in time to catch “which kind” and, oh, was that “milk”? Oh! No, it was “bread”. “Hoom”, I answer: Brown bread with my salad, not white. I exhale and try to lower my heart rate back to its normal pace, but then there she goes again! She’s inhaling! Quick, what else could she possibly be asking? Oh, she said, “Which” again! Hmmm…oh, I ordered a salad… “Which are there?” I ask, thinking I know what we’re talking about…though I may have said “Which is there” in my attempt to ask, “What are my options?” (a far too complex question for my language level). Anyways, she begins listing something and I focus all my attention on grasping each word. I thankfully catch “Vinaigrette” and order that as my dressing. Finally, her intonation tells me this next question is the last one, and I catch “Shem”. I release a huge internal sign of relief, “Chris”, I say, trying not to beam too obviously over the personal victory I just accomplished. Please, oh please don’t ask anything else. I need a rest. My head feels like it’s about to explode after that unexpected “What kind of dressing would you like” curve ball! I take my tray to the table, and calmly pull out my laptop or book, and pick up my fork, replaying the whole scenario and considering other sentences I might have constructed, or words I might try out next time, before getting down to the work at hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Thursday nights I join some other women from my congregation for Bible study. There is an English speaking group on Tuesdays, but I learned of this one first, and thoroughly enjoy it. So even though I sometimes get lost in all the Hebrew, I am happy to continue in it. Almost everyone there also speaks English, but I ask them to speak in Hebrew most of the time (I’m never comfortable with the power that English commands), assuring them that I am understanding parts, and don’t mind when I am lost. When I really cannot figure out what we’re discussing, I take the time to pray silently for the study, for the other women, for my Hebrew learning, for whatever the text has brought to mind, for…oh, all kinds of things come up during those times! It is certainly not wasted time. And hey, who knows how my brain is subconsciously taking in the exposure to the Hebrew still entering my ears even while my conscious mind is on whatever God and I are discussing at the moment. At the end, when we’re sharing prayer requests, I make a more concerted effort to grasp the main points, and then I do sometimes ask for English translations. But during the study, I do find that I understand quite a lot (it helps that I know the text, of course!).

We are studying the first few chapters of Bereshit (Genesis), and it’s been a great study. We are practicing inductive Bible study, so each week some things come up that none of us have noticed before. Quite a few things regarding Eve have stuck out to me that I had never noticed before. Like that when God gave the command to not eat from the tree of the knowledge of tov and ra, that Eve wasn’t even there yet. While it’s pretty clear that Adam related it to Eve, really the command was given to him, not her. (I’m not venturing interpretations from that fact; it’s just something I never noticed before, and may offer some insight regarding things like Romans 5 and 1 Cor 15, etc…(Also, in my Hebrew course we learned that the word translated “sin”, which I’ve learned before means “to miss the mark” is the same one that today you hear from announcers at basketball games in Israel when someone misses the basket.))

Then when the serpent was talking to Eve (with Adam standing right there, of course), the serpent misquoted God, which we all know. But also Eve, in trying to correct the serpent, also misquoted God…which gave deceit an open door. Eve took on herself a stricter rule than God did, and inaccurately prescribed it to God. It struck me how important it is to know and recall which things we do based on what God says and which we do based on culture, our country’s laws, or out of our own decisions — and how our relationships to each set of guidelines differ from one another.

I also never noticed that Adam was created outside of Eden, while it seems Eve was formed inside it, and of course Adam was made of dust, and Eve, from flesh (there was discussion on the Hebrew word most often translated “rib”, but anyway, flesh and bone). Again, not sure what to make of it all, just interesting to notice new things from a text I’ve read dozens of times.

It was a nice reminder again that only on the sixth day of creation did God not say that all was “tov”. In one of my classes we discussed the translation of “tov”. In this context, “good” seems to mean “complete”, not needing any addition or adjustment. So, all was complete up until the creation of man. But once man was created, the earth was not complete until his partner was also created. I have heard Eve compared to the final touch of a masterpiece, to the final crescendo of a symphony, called the crown of creation. It was interesting, also, to discuss the specific consequences to the serpent, to the earth, to Adam, and to Eve, after they ate from the tree. We talked about how our choices affect not only our own lives, but potentially everyone and everything in our sphere of influence, and noted that God cursed the serpent, and that the land was cursed, but the consequences described to Adam and Eve were not called “curses”.

And I was pretty stoked at the cool imagery of Adam and Eve, after eating from the tree they weren’t supposed to, hiding behind the trees they were originally welcomed to eat from. But instead of using those blessings as they were meant to be used (lunch, dessert, perhaps for building forts, and arts and crafts, etc. ;-)), they used them as hiding places. Do we ever use blessings from God not in the way they’re meant to be used, but as a way of hiding from someone or something? Ooo, nice metaphors. ;-)

Then Adam and Eve were sent out of the Garden, to work the land from which Adam had been made, and a guard was set over the way to the tree of life – often people talk about this guard as keeping people away from the tree of life. But another way to look at it is that the guard over the Way to the Tree of Life is there to ensure that that Way will be kept passable and safe so people can return to the tree of Life…

Anyway, sometimes I’m not sure what everyone else is getting out of the discussions in Hebrew – perhaps we discussed all these things, but then again, perhaps they were talking about bread, and I thought they said milk, and went down an entirely different line of thought, haha. Sometimes I jot down words I don’t know, if I can catch their pronunciation. Other times I infer their meaning based on context. Other times I ask my neighbor. And other times I read the passage again and pray while I wait for the topic to return to something including more vocabulary I recognize. :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Sundays and Thursdays I’m still volunteering at Shema. One thing I’d looked forward to in coming to Israel was the hope of receiving an ISL name sign. So far that has not happened, as the Haifa deaf community is quite drastically different from the American Deaf community I’ve been happy to be a part of in the last decade. I am just now starting to make friends in the Tel Aviv Deaf community, so we’ll see what becomes of that in the next few months…but, I have received a few new spoken names since arriving here. My friend from Japan and my friend from France both call me ChRIStina (which I found quite humorous as I had been joking with my sister about changing my name to that about a week before coming here); my friend from Slovakia added the Slovak diminutive ending and called me Christinka; in Hebrew class, the professor distractedly wrote a Kaf instead of a Nun by accident when writing my name on the board for a project, so in class we all started calling me Christeeka; and this Sunday, after asking me how to spell my name and writing it down, one of my Shema students sounded it out and called across the room to me: “Cartisina! Caritisina!”. Apparently in the way I’d chosen to spell it in Hebrew, the first five letters spelled the word for “Ticket”, so that’s how she pronounced the first two syllables. Love it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Purim is coming up, and Valentine’s Day just passed, and Tu Bishvat occurred during my apparent, unplanned blogging sabbatical. Tu Bishvat is similar to our Earth Day, except it’s all about trees. It is the tree’s birthday, and on it, you eat dried fruit and sing nature songs, and plant trees. Cool, huh? It is celebrated on the 15th of the Jewish month of Shevat. In Hebrew, you can write the numbers by using letters, like “A” would be 1, “B” would be 2, “AB” would be 12…sort of like that. So, the first word of the holiday “Tu” comes from how you would write “15” using letters. “B-” is like saying “of”, so: Tu Bishvat = The 15th of the month of Shevat. I was at Shema on Valentine’s Day, and sad to see that it is not celebrated here in schools at all like it is back home. I told the other volunteers that when I was a kid, we would bring Valentine’s Day cards to everyone in class, and that I often dress in red or pink and take little bags of candy or brownies around on Valentine’s Day every year and hand them out to professors, baristas, train conductors, etc. in my life, but this year I just slacked off. They laughed good naturedly and then we talked about how different holidays are in the states and here. Not the different holidays that are celebrated, but how in the USA, we really get into it all, with decorations, cards, special clothes, music, parties, etc., and how we adopt holidays from all over the world (I mentioned wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day, and pinching and whatnot, and one guy looked at me puzzled, “Isn’t that an Irish holiday?”). I am excited about Purim. One of my friends and I have been discussing our costumes and are thinking about going as one of the girls that the kind didn’t choose, ha, with fake warts and fun hairdos, and whatnot…nirei (“we’ll see”). ;-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks ago, all the Fulbrighters got together and we each took about 15 minutes to share about our projects and what else we’ve been doing since arriving. It was unspeakably nice to hear about each person’s project in a clear, concise, powerpoint-supported way, and to hear about each of our personal experiences in Israel. We chat each time we get together, but to have a structured presentation and 15 minutes for each was very helpful in aiding my brain to form a better picture of what each person is doing. And being a visual learner, the pictures and diagrams were invaluable. :)

Last week they took us on a two-day tour up to the Galilee area. We visited Nazareth and met with the assistant to the mayor, who shared with us about the socio-political situation in his city and beyond, then over to a kibbutz for lunch, and (oh dear, I’ve forgotten the order of things, anyway) to Tiberias for the night.

On the way to the kibbutz, our bus had to stop a ways before a traffic circle, as the police had blocked the road. Apparently there was a suspicious container of some sort (thermos?) on the island in the middle of the traffic circle. We watched as one, then another, and then increasing numbers of neighbors and school children came out to watch, from a safe distance away. An official van pulled up and armored men got out with their special equipment. We could not really see anything from where we were, but be assured many stories were being shared on the bus of similar experiences. Eventually we saw the police moving people to viewpoints further away and then there was a very loud, short POP! Apparently standard practice in such circumstances is to safely enclose the object of concern and then blow it up. Sure. That’s what I’d do. :-) They cleaned it up, removed the roadblock, and we went to lunch.

I have a friend coming to visit me starting Saturday for a week and a half. Her parents were expressing concern about safety here, especially with the, um, excitement going on in Egypt. I assured her it’s fine. The next day, on the bus watching this go down, I wanted to email her again and say, “See? They’ve got it covered.” ;-)

On our trip we visited a second kibbutz where a man shared with us some of his life’s musical journey through a room filled with percussion instruments – one that we’d never seen before, from Switzerland. It sounded very similar to the steel drums I often enjoy played by street performers, but it looked like a flying saucer with dents, and was small enough to carry under one arm.

The next day they took us to a settlement formed by immigrants from the Caucasus region (between the Caspian and Black Sea). It was a wonderful tour, and they shared with us some of their food, traditions, dance, language, and lifestyles, that they have brought from home and adapted to life in Israel. Through history they have been regarded as great warriors, and now make up a large majority of the IDF.

One of the languages they shared about has many words that are derived from onomatopoeia, which was interesting to parallel to ASL and ISL’s use of iconicity for much of their lexicon. And their engagement tradition was a topic of some fun discussion amongst us afterward. The to-be engaged woman awaits her to-be fiancé on her parents’ porch. When the man rides by on his horse, she either turns her face downward, in rejection, or lifts her hand up to him. He takes her hand and pulls her up on the horse, and they race to the town’s boundaries while her family and the other men of the village chase them, shouting and whatnot. They call it, “Bride Abduction” or something, but they assured us it is not violent or anything, just a tradition, for fun. Once the couple rides beyond the city boundaries, they are engaged. Then they return to her parents’ house for the engagement party!

Most of our discussion centered on wondering how difficult it is to be pulled up on a horse in motion. Does one practice this art in secret when one starts dating a man seriously? Does she ever bring a stool out onto the porch to make the jump easier? Does she ever reach up two hands? Or does that perhaps come across too needy? Does she practice pull-ups inside, in preparation for her engagement day? Oh, the logistics of getting married. ;-)

After the Caucasian village, we visited a Druze village for a late lunch, and then made our way back to Haifa. The others continued on to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and us Haifa-ians head home to begin our catch-up from the delightful two days off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend from DC arrives Saturday morning. It is her first time to Israel, so we will be fitting in as much as we can in her short time here, and I am eagerly looking forward to showing her around, and to the good conversations and belly-splitting-ouch-my-face-hurts-stop-making-me-laugh times that we always have together. I have made some good friends here, but there is certainly something about being with someone who has known you longer than six months that will be pleasant.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

ISL Family Signs and a Fulbright Family Thanksgiving

The weekend after the hike I took it easy, caught up on some data and house cleaning, etc. During the week I’m still just studying and researching. In our Israeli Sign Language class we learned some kinship terms. At the time I think I had a bit to say about it, but a month later now I’ve forgotten (one of these days my blog will catch up to life). ;-)

But I did come right home and make a video in ISL, and subsequently retold it in ASL and commented on the process in ASL:

Basically in the video I say that today in class we learned signs for family members so I created a short story to share my new vocabulary with you all. In the story there is a young boy and girl who fall in love, date for a while, and eventually get married when they are 27 years old (practicing my ISL numbers). At the wedding the groom breaks the traditional glass in remembrance of the temple's destruction in 70 AD. A few years later they have a daughter and a couple years after that, a son. So now the daughter has a brother. (Isn't it clever and subtle how I worked those words in? ;-)) The daughter grows up and meets a boy, falls in love, and also at 27, gets married. A few years later she gives birth to twins. Now the parents are also grandparents because they have grandchildren. The brother is now an uncle. He is still single, but has a dog. The End.

ASL has very specific mouth movements for the language that are different from English. A couple years ago when I learned some Italian Sign Language (LIS), my teacher was adamant that we not move our mouths most of the time. Now as I am learning ISL, I am learning how important it is to mouth Hebrew words along with many of the signs (even though ISL and Hebrew have different grammars). It has been funny that my hands have to slow down with the ISL because my mouth cannot keep up! And sometimes I pick up Hebrew words from signers, by lipreading, but of course then I know how to move my lips appropriately, but don't necessarily know how to pronounce the word aloud. :)

A lovely tale, isn't it? Quite complicated to tell when most of the words are brand new. :)

The Thursday after this, I head down to Tel Aviv with two of the other Fulbright fellows for Thanksgiving dinner.

I was just talking to a friend from California and saying how surreal it is that places like Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Tiberias are all just a bus or train ride away. And that I sometimes go to these places for meetings and dinners with friends, as if they're just another city! (But even so, I find myself staring out the window wide eyed as we go.) I lived in Washington, DC for two years, and that never became run-of-the-mill to me, either. Every single Monday night as my running group passed by Iwo Jima and looked down the national mall at the monument, memorials, and capitol all lit up, I could not help but slow a step or two and take a deep breath at the sight. Every single week! Same goes for here: I don't expect to ever become completely unimpressed by the long, complex history that this land has seen, and continues to live.

The Thanksgiving dinner was delicious. It was wonderful to see the other Fulbrighters again and catch up a bit, though there never seems to be enough time. There was the traditional turkey, and the not-quite-as-traditional beef. There were potatoes in a kind of cinnamon and onion sauce that was drool-worthy delicious. There were yams sliced and cooked to just the right semi-mushiness. There was a green dish reminiscent of green bean casserole, corn bread, and rolls. Beautiful!
And on the tables, let it not be unappreciated, there were traditional Israeli salads. We all laughed at the sight. No meal in Israel could be complete without them. Our dinner was indeed complete. :)
Dessert was an adventure. Remember that any meal catered in Israel will be kosher. Since we had meat, that means there was no dairy. Included in the desserts. ;-) One was orange, so I dubbed it a Pumpkin Pie reference. One choice was a kind of cranberry muffin, which seemed quite fitting. And a third was a sort of pecan pie concoction. I missed our family's traditional Dutch Apple Pie, but my waist line appreciated the parva sweets. :)


Before going I was able to gather blog addresses from many of the other fellows, so I am thrilled to be able to follow them online as well as catch up on our periodic gatherings. :-)

The next morning I got up early to skype with my family in California while they celebrated Thanksgiving, and then loaded up and head with the international school down to the Dead Sea and a hike through En Gedi for the weekend.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Classes and Volunteering

The university started up again in October. I am taking the Hebrew ulpan, so I have that class Monday through Thursday in the mornings, and I am also auditing two classes through the international school (read: taught in English): “Intro to Rabbinic Literature” and “Biblical Theology: The Journey of the Soul”. I selected the first because so many people I meet seem to have a basic understanding of some concepts of which I am completely ignorant, and I wanted to understand what is Midrash, Mishnah, Torah, Tanak, Talmud…etc. And the latter I am taking because several of my friends here have taken it and raved about the professor. Both courses are fantastic!

And finally, I am auditing an Israeli Sign Language course through the main university! It is super fun to be in a beginning sign language class again. The professor said if I wanted I could sit in on the first class, but he was pretty sure it would be too slow for me, and I would be bored. On the contrary! Of course I am grasping the signs and grammar faster than those for whom this is their first exposure to a language in the visual/manual modality, but it is so much fun for me because every time he writes on the board or gives us direction to write, I get to struggle along with my Hebrew while everyone else is struggling along with the ISL. It is such a great balance and I’m loving it. One of the other people that works in the lab with me is also taking the course and one day after class he was kind enough to videotape me practicing my ISL for you all to see. I did my best in ISL and then explained it in ASL:

Basically the video says that I was there the first day of class three weeks ago, but missed the second class because I was getting my student visa (yay!) and the third class because the location had changed and I was not aware of the fact. Then I point out the challenge of learning ISL through Hebrew, another new language for me, and say that I am understanding more and more as time goes and will include further videos along the way.

Weekends here are Friday and Saturday, so on those days I have been hiking, biking, playing with friends, resting, doing more work on my research (contrary to how it sounds, I am making time for that, as well--it's just not as interesting to outsiders yet, as I'm working mostly on coding at this point and can't even speculate on conclusions yet), and so forth.

Sundays begin the workweek here. However, we do not have class on Sunday, which has afforded me to make it my volunteer day. I am volunteering as a teacher’s aide at a place called Shema. Shema is the Hebrew word for “hear”, which I find ironic as it is an after school center for deaf and hard of hearing students. But the whole paradigm on deafness, deaf culture, deaf education, and sign language is so different here that I wouldn’t be too surprised to find that the name is wholly appropriate and self-evident once I come to better understand both languages and cultures.

http://shema.org.il/?CategoryID=220

At 1pm the children come and we have some class, helping them with their homework, etc. It is so much fun to have nine and ten year olds correcting my language and cracking up at my antics, both unintentional and laughter-seeking. People of all ages want to have something to contribute to their environment, and I think the fact that their language skills far exceed my own in both ISL and Hebrew is a very good experience for them.

After a couple hours, they have recess and I get to hang out with the other volunteers and we swap language lessons. They speak to each other in Hebrew at a million miles a minute and then very consistently turn to me and ask if I was following. I repeat whatever words I caught and make guesses of what was said. They laugh and bring me up to speed, teach me a few Hebrew words and grammar tips, and then ask how to say this or that in English or ASL. And we all try to help one another with our ISL if the deaf volunteers are not around to provide native input.

After recess there is an activity. One day there was a guest presenter that brought a few dozen drums and played with the kids through a kind of “call and answer” game, where they would watch his hands and feel the vibrations made in the room (and listen to the beat as much as each individual could), and then play back the same rhythm to him on their own drums. Being a volunteer, I was directed to also get down on the ground with my own drum in amongst the kids and join in the game. I was thrilled! All those poor adults just sitting along the walls without drums; the other amateur musicians and I had a great time.

Another day during the activity time I was included in a card game that is famous here, I believe it's name was something like "Tika"? Or "Kita"? The kids agreed to teach me, and were settling in to do so when one of them looked on the box and saw the directions were both in Hebrew and English...a quick glance over the rules and I exclaimed, "Oh! It's Uno!" We got on swimmingly then. I lost...but learned the signs for 'win', 'cheater', and "Nono, American, it's his turn!" Or something to that effect.

This last Sunday the activity was an arts and crafts activity with clay. Hanukkah starts next week, so we were making applicable crafts. Many hanukias (the thing most Americans call menorahs—menorahs have 7 branches while hanukias have 9), and a few tops I recognized and was inspired by. I started saying, “Oh, can I make a dreidel? Can I make a dreidel?” to this person and that, and they all looked at me with rather blank faces. A couple of them shrugged and said, “Sure, make whatever you want.” And the friend I spend the most time there with finally asked me, “What is a dreidel?” I was shocked and pointed to one on the counter. “Oh! A sevivon! You call it a what? A dradoo?” And we proceeded with a great discussion of Hanukkah traditions, terms, songs from our respective countries, etc. She was surprised to learn that Americans celebrate Hanukkah too, thinking it was only an Israeli holiday.

I was pretty happy with my סביבון . :-)

I have yet to take my camera with me to Shema, but I will do my best to remember next time (this week I’ll be going to a conference, but the following Sunday should do), and snap some shots of the rooms (though I won’t be posting any pictures of people, of course). More to come on Shema for the rest of the year, I’m sure. :)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Tel Aviv Part I - Nalaga'at Center, Old Jaffa Hostel, and Free English Tour

In Tel Aviv, next to the Jaffa port there is a wonderful place called the “Nalaga’at Center”. “Na” is a form of “please” and “lagaat” meants “touch”. We have all see the sign “Please Do Not Touch”,

but this center, educating the public about the lives of Deaf people and Blind people, who experience the world much more through touch than hearing and sighted people, encourages the opposite: Please Touch.

When you enter the Nalaga’at center, before you is the entrance to the theater, where performers are fully or partially Deaf, Blind, or both. To the left of the theater you see Café Kapish, which is run entirely by Deaf staff. There you learn some Israeli Sign Language from pictures in the menu and on the table cloth, and from your server, who is Deaf. You learn how to order in the situation where speaking will do you no good, and perhaps realize it is not as difficult as you might have presumed. Beyond Café Kapish is the restaurant Black Out. However, you may not recognize it at first, as you can see no tables or chairs through a doorway or window. At this restaurant, you choose from the menu before entering, and are served in total darkness by blind servers. Here, there is no “watching what you eat”, since you simply feel, smell, and taste it, rather than evaluating its appearance.

http://www.nalagaat.org.il/home.php

Last year, as I applied for this Fulbright scholarship, I was introduced to a former Fulbright scholar to Israel who is earning his PhD from Gallaudet, the same school where I earned my MA. He tutored me in Hebrew and Israeli Sign Language for the year while we waited to hear if I would be moving to Haifa this year. Now he is living in Jerusalem, and I was thrilled to meet up with him in Tel Aviv to visit Nalaga’at and practice some of my ISL with him and “real live Deaf Israelis”! Nalaga’at was hosting a children’s festival, so we joined that, enjoying the children’s art on the center’s suka, signing with our server at Café Kapish, and watching the children’s play performed all in Hebrew and ISL.

Between the little Hebrew and ISL I've learned, the costumes and clear children’s-theater acting, and simple plot, I was able to follow along just fine, and even learned some new words in both languages. :-D I will definitely return (and drag some other friends with me!) to see the other shows that run while I’m here.

I spent the night at the Old Jaffa Hostel, so I could go on the free English tour they have of Old Jaffa every Wednesday morning at 9am. The hostel was a nice one, and has a good price if you ever plan to visit. The only drawback was the staff member with whom I interacted. The stressed and burdened manner she exuded would have been a bit upsetting to me if unexpected. However, thankfully I had read about her on reviews of the hostel before choosing it (she's that famous)! Knowing that every review had mentioned a bad staff member set my mind at ease that her attitude had little to do with myself and the other guests, and kept it from spoiling my stay. Keep it in mind if you choose to visit. :-)

The next morning, I had a lovely breakfast at a restaurant overlooking the sea (I really chose it not for the sand and waves, but for the surfers playing just in front of the restaurant). Of course I cannot afford to buy a surfboard while I am here, but I have somehow convinced myself that I can glean some skill just from watching and analyzing those I see catching and riding the waves, that my next time out I will be a veritable expert at the sport. Right. It’s nice to dream, though.

The tour gave a nice overview of Jaffa's history and current layout. :)

We met up at the clock tour and heard a bit about the city walls that once protected the area from bandits in the desert, etc. Then walked through some of the narrow streets over to the bazaar and the tour guide walked us through an alley that has the best deals. I spotted some products I decided I'd have to return for, and made note of our location. :)

Then we walked through restaurant row, if you will, to the artists' quarters. Many of the apartments in this area are abandoned property (people fleeing during war times), so the government rents them out, but it has been designated the area solely to artists. Some are performing artists, but many create visual art, and the narrow alleys are full of exhibits in the windows and in front of the apartment/studios. Even the street signs show the artistic flare in the area.

The tour was pretty long, but now, a month later I don't remember a lot. But we heard about how Napoleon conquered Jaffa in only three days and it was his plan to create a country for Jewish people. Our guide called him the first Zionist. He had planned to work his way up the coast to Akko, but didn't make it. I am not really clear about what happened, but apparently he was ousted shortly after arriving.


And I cannot remember if it had to do with him or another conqueror (there have been many throughout the centuries here), but at one time the city walls were surrounded by orange groves. But the conquering army used them as cover when attacking the city. (The image makes me think of "Macbeth"!) The defending party then cut down the orchards, securing the walls a bit. Heard of "Jaffa Oranges"? This is where they used to come from! Apparently now all oranges grown in Israel take that name, but anyway, an artist wished to honor the symbol of the city and created a beautiful living sculpture at the entrance to the artists' community.

After the tour, it was a walk to the bus station (yay for maps and good shoes), and a wait in line at the information booth to find the bus to Jerusalem. Oh, that’s right. Israeli culture is similar to Italian culture in respect to lines—or lack thereof. The nice, naïve American that I am, it took me four tries, and three “butt-ins” before I was able to have a turn asking direction to the bus I needed. Thankfully I had remembered just in time that I’m supposed to “elbow my way in” here, rather than wait. No sooner had she answered my question and I’d walked to the indicated gate than the bus loaded. I paid my ticket and plopped myself down, texting my friend in Jerusalem with an ETA.