It's only when you have a problem that you get to know useful people. I've been making amendments to my documentary this week, so I can go back to Jordan next week and re-show it. One of my hard drives seems to be playing up, so I needed some technical help as I don't want to work without a backup. I called a contact at one of the TV news agencies here who introduced me to an uber cool editor whose family has been in Jerusalem for 7 generations. He has a gentle and thoughtful manner, and seems as at peace with this place as it's possible to be, whilst recognising its malfunctions. He and his wife are raising their three children here. He explained: 'We could have moved to Tel Aviv which would have been one way of life. But here our children will see many ways. And I hope this will keep their minds open as people.' He very kindly spent lots of his time helping me out. He doesn't speak much Arabic but we noticed that the word 'funun': arts in Arabic and part of the name of the gallery I've made the film about, is like 'fanan' in Hebrew which means 'take it easy.'
Having done all he could, he recommended another technician in the centre of town who I'll visit on Sunday when they're open again after shabbat. Another couple of numbers on my phone that are going to be invaluable over the next 3 years. I see some more human rocks forming in the landscape.
These visits to his studios meant I've zipped up and down the tram line a few times. Once you've fumbled with, and dropped, many times, the tiny 1 shekel pieces as you try and get them into the ticket machine, the system works well. As the tram slid forwards, Jaffa Street was revealed to me from my seat: City Hall, Jaffa Centre, Mahane Yehuda, Ha Turim - a mix of low level shopping areas, markets and large European looking buildings such as L'hopital Francais or Notre Dame. Inside the tram is a fascinating visual melting pot. I stared as a teenage Jewish boy in civilian clothes wandered by with a giant automatic gun hanging loosely from one shoulder. A Haredi man with a long white beard, hitched his long black coat to climb a railing, rather than walk 3 metres round to the tramway exit. A young Jewish couple, she in a floral headscarf and brown buckle shoes, he in a black suit - looked at a children's book they'd just bought.
Friday morning in the West side is busy with shoppers getting ready for shabbat. Restaurants are full, and bread shops are buzzing.There's something of New York here, or something of here in New York. I couldn't work out which. Friday in our side is closed and quiet.
Back at our local stop, an Arab man approached and stood very close to me trying to push a tram ticket for 5 shekels (a little cheaper than from the machine). I declined, he looked annoyed and walked off, flicking his ticket with a long yellow thumbnail.
On my walk home I found more bakeries, more fruit and vegetable stalls - the route already becoming a little more familiar, and the tree buds just starting to burst into flower as popcorn kernels in a pan.
I got home and the dwarves and I hung and vast yellow paper ball lamp shade from the ceiling light in their bedroom and the Lozenge said: 'Lookth like the sun is rithing.'
Having done all he could, he recommended another technician in the centre of town who I'll visit on Sunday when they're open again after shabbat. Another couple of numbers on my phone that are going to be invaluable over the next 3 years. I see some more human rocks forming in the landscape.
These visits to his studios meant I've zipped up and down the tram line a few times. Once you've fumbled with, and dropped, many times, the tiny 1 shekel pieces as you try and get them into the ticket machine, the system works well. As the tram slid forwards, Jaffa Street was revealed to me from my seat: City Hall, Jaffa Centre, Mahane Yehuda, Ha Turim - a mix of low level shopping areas, markets and large European looking buildings such as L'hopital Francais or Notre Dame. Inside the tram is a fascinating visual melting pot. I stared as a teenage Jewish boy in civilian clothes wandered by with a giant automatic gun hanging loosely from one shoulder. A Haredi man with a long white beard, hitched his long black coat to climb a railing, rather than walk 3 metres round to the tramway exit. A young Jewish couple, she in a floral headscarf and brown buckle shoes, he in a black suit - looked at a children's book they'd just bought.
Friday morning in the West side is busy with shoppers getting ready for shabbat. Restaurants are full, and bread shops are buzzing.There's something of New York here, or something of here in New York. I couldn't work out which. Friday in our side is closed and quiet.
Back at our local stop, an Arab man approached and stood very close to me trying to push a tram ticket for 5 shekels (a little cheaper than from the machine). I declined, he looked annoyed and walked off, flicking his ticket with a long yellow thumbnail.
On my walk home I found more bakeries, more fruit and vegetable stalls - the route already becoming a little more familiar, and the tree buds just starting to burst into flower as popcorn kernels in a pan.
I got home and the dwarves and I hung and vast yellow paper ball lamp shade from the ceiling light in their bedroom and the Lozenge said: 'Lookth like the sun is rithing.'
Regarding the word 'funun' - in Hebrew it's actually a slang word, not so widely in use I think nowadays, but it's not a word in Hebrew. It was borrowed from Arabic like other words. For instance some people use the Arabic word 'Achla' - which means beautiful in Arabic (I think) as meaning 'cool' or 'ok' in Hebrew. Again, it is used as slang.
ReplyDeleteAnother example is the Arab word 'ahalan' (welcome) which is used sometimes in Hebrew as slang for 'hi'. Usually pronounced like 'alan' and not 'ahalan'.
Arab words were incorporated into Hebrew as slang or as swearwords that Hebrew borrowed from Arabic but they are not part of the official Hebrew language.
This process happened because of the many years of contact (good and bad) between the Arab and the Jewish populations.
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