Medical anomaly

Woke up from severe ear pain last night. Touched my sore ear only to discover a hard, pea-size lump behind my left earlobe right where the ear connects to the neck. Painful to touch and seems to be causing headaches and pain in the jaw. Definitely a new growth. What the hell could it be?! I called the doctor, explained my issue, and he can't see me 'til tomorrow. The school nurse thinks it's just some sort of internal infection, but of course I'm paranoid that I'm going to wake up tomorrow deaf in one ear. I googled "hard lump + behind ear + pain" with no satisfactory results. Does anyone have an explanation?? I'm a little afraid.

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Update: A second lump developed on the right side of my neck and pain extended to second ear. Went to see the doctor and he said it's just an external ear infection, probably from sailing on Wednesday. Apparently the waters of the Med are so polluted that even a little sea spray on a sailboat can cause an infection. I've been instructed not to touch my lumps (swollen lymph nodes) more than three times a day, which is extremely difficult for me. Anyway, looking forward to being lump-free.

Useless gossip

Did you know Leonardo DiCaprio is dating an Israeli supermodel who is a year younger than me? He is currently visiting Israel. Two of his bodyguards were arrested by Israeli police yesterday for being involved in a fight.

article

Hillarious

From Sam: "Israel recalls 'naked ambassador'"

Excerpt:

"Israel has recalled its ambassador to El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked apart from bondage gear. [...] The incident, which happened two weeks ago, has renewed calls for a radical overhaul of the way Israel appoints and promotes its diplomats."

An adult activity

I am currently engaging in what I always considered a horribly grown-up, adult activity-- something I reserved for the distant age of 28, maybe 29.

I am buying my first car.

I expected to live in bulging metropolises numbering with no less than 5 million individuals until the responsibilities of a family or failing health or general insanity necessitated relocation to quieter grounds. That plan was off to a rocky start when I decided to move to a country the size of Jersey with a population of less than 7 million. Now, although I will be moving to Tel Aviv proper in the summer, the unfortunately rural-ish location of the new campus of the school and the general inaccessibility of the country outside the metropolises require that I invest in some form of mechanized mobility.

Why not a moped, you ask? Israel, while preserving many elements seemingly European in character, is not Europe at all. In Israel, you do not just pick up a cheap scooter and zoom around concerned only with the price of petrol. Use of a moped by a non-Israeli requires a motorcycle license, which requires 20+ individual lessons, which is an investment that occasionally exceeds the price of the scooter itself (> $1000). Then, after the laying down money for the license and the vehicle, insurance (required) on the motorized scooter is equivalent to the insurance of a car.

As a general rule, things in Israel are expensive. Cars, for example, carry 100% tax. One of the benefits of working as an overseas hire for the international school happens to be tax-free purchase of a vehicle. However, these privileges expire after 6 months of residence in the country. (I have been in Israel for just over 7 months.)

As a result, I have spent a significant amount of time scouring online databases for affordable secondhand cars. These databases, of course, are in Hebrew. That's ok, because most of the information is straightforward and it is easy to navigate after figuring out the main headings. Calling the owners and finding that they don't speak English, however, is not an obstacle that I can overcome with my skill set, which does not include Hebrew verbal fluency. Luckily, I have generous friends whose patience I hope not to deplete.

Anyways, if anyone has any advice about precautions to take when investing in a secondhand car (how old is too old? how many kms are too many?) or expertise in compact European cars, let me know. I am leaning towards a Volkswagen, Fiat or Peugeot. As for auto vs manual, I'm leaning towards buying a manual and just winging it on the roads. (joke, joke-- I know the basics of using a stick, and I'll practice.) Wish me luck.

I need your help!

I'm looking to buy a new camera-- a high-quality digital to keep record of my travels during these next few years. It's a big investment and I'm struggling with the decision. Please post some advice, or at the very least vote for your favorite.

I am currently debating between these five options:

1.) Canon PowerShot A710 IS
2.) Canon PowerShot S3 IS
3.) Canon PowerShot G7
4.) Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT
5.) Nikon D40

The features of these five models are presented in a side-by-side comparison here.

Any input would be helpful. Especially on whether to go for an SLR over a compact, and which model to choose. Thanks!!

GoodReads.com

Join this website!

It's this great (free) website that allows you to post reviews of books that you have read, are planning to read, or are currently reading. In addition, you create a network of friends from whom you can read reviews and get recs for future reads. It's also really interesting to browse the bookshelves of people in foreign countries. My favorite is looking at the bookshelves of younger (presumably university-age) Iranians or people from other non-Western backgrounds.

Let's be goodreads friends! My username is my gmail address.

Sick Day

I took a sick day today, as the sore throat of Saturday night recruited other symptoms such as fever, headache, excessive mucus, and persistent pressure in ears to threaten my present quality of life. Needing to escape the confines of the apartment, I took a walk along my beautiful beach and settled myself in a rather deserted section of sand to read and write and give some last minute thought to staying in Israel before I officially sign my contract.

After about 20 peaceful minutes, a pair of guys came sauntering up the shore. Happening to catch my eye through my intentionally selected dark, dark sunglasses, one stopped.

"Ma nishma? Are you a writer?" he asked.
"No, I'm a teacher."
"Are you married?"
"No."
"You're great, you know."
"What does that mean?"
"You're really beautiful."
"I'm sick."
"You don't look sick... Oh, yeah, I guess a little pale. [pause] Do you want to go to the mall with us?"
"No thanks."
"Can I have your phone number, then?"
"No, I have a boyfriend." (Necessary statement, regardless of its veracity.)
"Oh, that's why I asked if you were married."
???
"OK, nice to meet you."

------

Ten minutes later, while I was on the phone, a middle-aged man walked by.
This guy decided to use sign language.

[Pressing his two index fingers together, length-wise]: translation: "Are you with someone?"

------

These Nof Yam Israelis are a funny breed.

Upon returning home, I received a phone call from one of the Korean mothers at school. "I heard you were sick!" she said. (I have no idea how she heard. I knew it was a small school, but this is a little absurd.) "My son is sick too, so I made some soup. I'll bring it over right now."

10 minutes later, I had homemade miyuk-guk, a large tub of kimchi, and some Haagen-Daaz strawberry ice cream.

As much as I complain about the more undesirable aspects of Korean and Korean American culture, the Korean expatriate community in Israel is the most caring, supportive network. My fridge is always full of Korean goodies, I've had many homesickness-curing Friday night dinners, donations of hard-to-get items such as kim or a rice cooker(!!), and one mother even talked me through my dilemma of whether accepting the offer of teaching at the school an additional year would supplement or detract from my ultimate goals. All in all, I feel very fortunate. Who knew Israel was home to a thriving Korean population?

"On Self-Respect": Joan Didion

"There is a common superstition that 'self-respect' is a kind of charm against snakes, something that keeps those who have it locked in some unblighted Eden out of strange beds ambivalent conversations, and trouble in general. It does not at all. It has nothing to do with the face of things, but concerns instead a separate peace, a private reconciliation. [...]In brief, people with self-respect exhibit a certain toughness, a kind of moral nerve; they display what was once called character, a quality which, although approved in the abstract, sometimes loses ground to other more instantly negotiable virtues. The measure of its slipping prestige is that one tends to thing of it only in connection with homely children and United States senators who have been defeated, preferably in the primary for reelection. Nonetheless, character-- the willingness to accept responsibility for one's own life-- is the source from which self-respect springs.

[...]

To have that sense of one's intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference. If we do not respect ourselves, we are on the one hand forced to despise those who have so few resources as to consort with us so little perception as to remain blind to our fatal weaknesses. On the other, we are peculiarly in thrall to everyone we see, curiously determined to live out-- since our self-image is untenable-- their false notions of us. We flatter ourselves by thinking this compulsion to please others an attractive trait: a gist for imaginative empathy, evidence of our wilingness to give. Of course I will play Francesca to your Paolo, Helen Keller to anyone's Annie Sullivan: no expectation is too misplaced, no role too ludicrous. At the mercy of those we cannot but hold in contempt we play roles doomed to failure before they are begun, each defeat generating fresh despair at the urgency of divining and meeting the next demand made upon us.

It is a phenomenon sometimes called 'alienation from self.' In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight to free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves-- there lies the great, singular power of self-respect. Without it one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home."

From We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live: Collected Nonfiction

WBA in Egypt: Luxor Part III-- Valley of the Kings and Queens

Valley of the Kings: a scorching, barren valley where the pharaohs were laid to rest. Approximatley 62 tombs have been excavated in the Valley, although not all are open to the public or the tombs of pharaohs.

Hills of the Valley.

Model of the fairly extensive area.

Illegal shot inside a tomb. Oh that lawless Eunice.

One ticket gives you entrance to three tombs.
We chose the tombs of Merneptah, Ramses I, and Thutmosis III.

The tomb of Thuthmosis III. Hidden up in the limestone cliffs, this was an extremely inaccessible tomb. It was really impressive that robbers located and looted this tomb, considering its strategic location and the series of deep shafts and irregular passages built into the structure to safeguard against this very threat.

View of the Valley from the entrance of the tomb.

I think these photos were taken inside the tomb of one of the princes in the Valley of the Queens.

Encounter Point

I just finished watching Encounter Point-- a documentary film following a diverse sample of Palestinians and Israelis who have chosen to promote a nonviolent end to the conflict and confront hatred in their own communities. Featured individuals include bereaved Israelis and Palestinians who lost children and siblings to snipers, suicide bombers, soldiers; a former Israeli settler in Gaza; a Palestinian ex-prisoner. It is an honest and moving piece that presents a broad range of viewpoints from across the cultural and political spectrum. The featured characters of the piece, Palestinians and Israelis, are inspiring in their commitment to mutual understanding and cooperation, and their pursuit of a nonviolent end to this complicated conflict despite personal tragedy and resistance in their native communities.

This film was premiered at the 2006 Tribeca Film Festival, and has won the Audience Award for Best Documentary at the 2006 SF International Film Festival, the 2006 Audience Award for Best Documentary at the Rencontres Film Festival in Montreal, the Best Musical Score Award at the Bend Film Festival and the 2006 Spirit of Freedom Award at the Bahamas Film Festival.

Watch this film.
www.encounterpoint.com
www.justvision.org

Drink 'til you don't know

Today, the 14th day of Adar, is Purim-- the festive Jewish holiday that celebrates the Jews of Persia being saved from extermination by Haman, advisor to the king. As recorded in the Book of Esther, Haman plotted to annihilate all the Jews in Persia on the 13th of Adar, but the Jews valiantly defended themselves. Their triumph is celebrated each year on the day following their victory.

On the ground in secular Tel Aviv, Purim weekend transformed the streets into an American Halloween-like ordeal. Friday, I spent the afternoon at the wandering Sheinkin and the biweekly arts fair on Nachalat Binyamin with friends. The weather was gorgeous and the streets were packed with artists selling their crafts, street performers, and many, many costumed people, infant to adult. It felt like half of Tel Aviv was congregated within a mile radius of these trendy neighborhoods. Costumes ranged from effortless (animal-ear headbands and flamboyant wigs), to adorable (infant bumblebee), to standard (lots of drag), to daring (giant walking nipple). Fairies seemed to be the most popular choice for both males and females-- glittery wings were sprouting off the backs of at least every 10th passer-by.

My favorite costume, however, was one printed in today's Haaretz. I can't seem to find the photo online, but the caption reads: "EYES WIDE SHUT: A Purim-goer, right, dressed up as Defense Minister Amir Peretz, taking part in the holiday festivities in Kiryat Shmona yesterday." Hillarious.

Last night, my friend and I dressed up in semi-matching flimsy white biotech suits. Mine was a full-body suit complete with attached hairnet-esque hood, while he wore a tamer white lab coat with matching hairnet. Hood in place, I looked much like a cloth sperm. We were meant to be biohazard scientists, but we couldn't get our shit together in time to print off the biohazard signs that would make the connection for other people. Nevertheless, we got lots of positive comments. A guard on Allenby told us we looked really "Tel Aviv-y"-- whatever that means. Met up with some friends, went to a few parties, including a massive street party in Florentine, some of the highlights including a fire waving/juggling man and a rabbi reading the Megillah in the middle of the inebriated crowd. To round out my Purim experience, I had my fair share of the triangular cookies-- hamantaschen or oznei Haman-- "Haman's pockets" in Yiddish/"Haman's ears" in Hebrew. All in all, a super fun holiday.

WBA in Egypt: Luxor Part IV

Some more pictures from Luxor:

Colossi of Memnon on the West Bank of Luxor.