|
|
||||||
|
||||||
|
||||||
|
|
||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
|
The Israeli Travel BugDaniel Estrin
Why is everyone itching to get out of Israel? Just yesterday, in the lecture hall before my "Anthropology of the Jewish Shtetl" class, I was chatting with my neighbor, who asked me if I had taken a prior class with the professor. I told her I am only studying in Israel for one year and then returning to Boston to complete my degree. Her response, which I’ve received from a number of Israelis: Wow! I’m dying to escape to Boston, and here you chose to come to Israel! Thought to self: amused shock is not the most encouraging response from locals who have just learned that you’ve chosen to study abroad in their country. Like the recent plague of locusts that descended upon Israel, there is an outbreak of the Travel Bug. Every Israeli wants to travel. Three days, three years, it doesn’t matter: all they want is out. With the younger generation, it has almost become cliché: upon release from the army, the typical Israeli travels to Thailand or India or South America for a year or so, before returning to study in the university, wearing long hair or Indian sharwal pants or various other foreign accessories (in light of recent events, this takes on greater poignancy). My cousin, who recently spent six months in Thailand, says that knowledge of Hebrew in Thailand is a big advantage since many restaurant and tourist signs are written in Hebrew. And a fellow Israeli student told me that while in South America, a local asked him the total population of Israel. When the Israeli replied with an estimate of about six million, the South American answered, "No, no, I mean the total population of Israel, not the number of Israelis traveling in South America." Older generations are infected with the travel bug, too. A couple of months ago, I called some close family friends and spoke to Maayana, the mother: "I haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks—how are you?" I ask. "Fine, fine," she responds. "What’s new?" "Oh, nothing much," Maayana replies, "we just came back from a week in Barcelona." "You didn’t tell me you were going to Barcelona!" "I know, we decided to travel at the last minute." Sensing my astonishment, Maayana went on to explain the Israeli love of travel: "Life in Israel is tough. There’s the "security situation" (that’s the Israeli catchphrase for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict) and the "economic situation." Plus, this is a small country. We live close to one another, everyone knows everyone. At some point you need to escape, get some fresh air." They can breathe all the fresh air they want, but their reputation precedes them wherever they travel – a reputation of being loud, obnoxious tourists who butt in line and argue with shopkeepers---you know, the way Israelis act back home. It seems that you can take the Israeli out of Israel, but you can’t take Israel out of the Israeli. Enter "Goodwill Ambassadors," an Israeli non-profit organization that is—gasp-- concerned about the Israeli public image abroad. Featured on the organization’s website (www.dogood.org.il) is a picture of a sign displayed at a Thai hotel which states: "Attention guests!!! Israeli Nationality is not welcome to stay in this hotel, because they are problem makers. We cannot accept their behavior. The Management." TV public service announcements and posters at the airport are part of an extensive marketing campaign to urge Israelis to be on their best behavior while guests in other people’s countries. A native Israeli is called a sabra (or "tzabar," Hebrew for cactus) – prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside. My favorite advertisement features a picture of a cactus; the slogan reads: "When traveling abroad, leave the thorns at home." Of course, there is a more serious issue that contributes to the negative image of Israel abroad: Israeli policy towards the Palestinians. What’s the best way to salvage Israel’s reputation in the world? You’ve guessed it—a reality TV show! The new hit reality series The Ambassador (think: The Apprentice) features contestants who vie to become the Ambassador, a person who will improve Israel’s public image abroad by working in the city that needs an Israel PR makeover the most—New York City! In the latest, most-anticipated episode, contestants faced their hardest challenge yet: convince Parisians to vacation in Israel. If all of these PR efforts sound a bit ridiculous, they are. But they reflect, I believe, a genuine interest by Israelis to receive just a little bit of respect while abroad, to be treated as people and not representatives of their government. And maybe they can instill in their new foreign friends a desire to visit their homeland—you know, that small strip of land called Israel that Israelis love to flee any chance they can get. Daniel Estrin is a junior at Brandeis University studying English Literature and Near Eastern & Judaic Studies. This year he is studying Hebrew Literature (and attempting to grasp Colloquial Arabic) at Ben- Gurion University in Beer-Sheva, Israel. He is an avid cellist and plays with a chamber music group in Beer Sheva. Upon graduation, he hopes to have a stable future doing something, somewhere, somehow, connected to writing.
[Posted 12/29/04]
|
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
|||||||