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Tumblr makes me think “What a cliché! Two able-bodied, cis-gendered, white, upper-middle-class men” when I’m looking at pics of my boyfriend and me.

Dammit Tumblr!

Route 443

Read this first: http://www.btselem.org/freedom_of_movement/road_443 This is a map of route 443 and how it compares to highway 1: http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF&msa=0&msid=215695422329710637677.0004d5751d60dafee9b0e Highway 1, in red, and route 443, in blue, are about the same length (both in distance and time it takes to get from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv and vice versa) - but to get from Jerusalem to Modi’in it doesn’t make much sense to use Highway 1. Both of them have very beautiful views. In 2005 two cousins moved to Modi’in, and their parents followed a year later. I was living with my parents in Jerusalem at the time. Whenever we were driving to dinner at my aunt’s place we used Highway 1 because my parents were afraid of the violence on road 443. As the time passed the violent attacks became a distant memory and my parents got more comfortable driving to Modi’in on 443 and eventually started using it to get to Tel Aviv, where my brother and I had moved. My brother and I also got comfortable using route 443 to visit our parents in Jerusalem. I always knew there was some moralistic problem with this road, but it was just a way to get from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem for me. Whenever I got to where 1 and 443 split I just let my GPS app decide for me, based on which road was less congested at the moment. But the feeling that I’m playing a small part in something wrong was always there at the back of my head. Every couple of years the military checkpoint on the side of the road that’s closer to Jerusalem moved farther away from Jerusalem and into Palestinian land. It wasn’t by much, 500 meters at first, 2 km after, but the general feeling was that “we” are enforcing a new reality by silently annexing that land. The checkpoints also changed from ad-hoc tents to semi-permanent structure, to full-blown construction projects I can only estimate in the hundred-thousand dollars range (at least.) All the while, Israeli settlers were feeling more and more comfortable on the road; it was mostly the billboards: “5 rooms villa in Bet Horon.” Very affordable. Last week I was driving to Jerusalem and my GPS app told me to take 443, I blindly followed. This was the first time I drove there during the day in months. About ten minutes beyond the checkpoint after Modi’in I saw something new: a huge sign with the name ”Benjamin” and the image of a roaring lion. All of a sudden the feeling from the back of my head came forward and I was filled with disgust. Benjamin was one of the twelve tribes of Israel, the tribe that lived in this area thousands of years ago. These settlers, with the tiny gesture of placing this sign, are claiming historic connection to the tribe of Benjamin and by extension to the land. I Don’t know if they believe it themselves or are just using it to further their cause. I don’t know if that matters. I want to consider myself a moralistic person, it's amazing how easily one losses track of what they believe is right and what is wrong, because it's comfortable to just drive on 443. I don't want to do that anymore.

Preference: your porn site search filters

Bigotry: your dating site search filters

Racism: when everyone’s search filters are the same

That cute guy on the bus

We both shyly stare at each other only to avert our eyes when the other one notices, standing next to each but not saying a word – until he get off the bus first and then we stare at each other through the window, smiling, as the bus drives away.

There's a rush of adrenaline as I'm imagining myself starting to talk to that guy (and let's be honest, also imagining less innocent things…)

But I never act, and I end up feeling like I missed the opportunity of a lifetime.

And it happens again and again.

That other R2D2

Have you noticed how all droids in the Star Wars universe have a 4 letter/digit name? Seeing how they used standard English letters and decimal digits, this means that there are exactly 36^4 = 1,679,616 droid names. Droids are cheap and ubiquitous, given that impoverished farmers in the outbacks of the galaxy own half a dozen droids. Coruscant at its peak had a population of 1 trillion, meaning that there were definitely more than 1,679,616 droids in the galaxy far, far away, so droid names were not unique. The same droid name was used for multiple droids, perhaps thousands or even millions of droids.

This means that during the events of Star Wars episodes IV–VI there were other R2D2′s and C3PO’s in the galaxy that were constantly harassed by the authorities because they were unfortunate enough to share their name with the empire’s most wanted.

Somewhere out there is an R2D2 teacher-bot that gets arrested mid-class every couple of weeks by an overzealous stormtrooper. Somewhere else there is a C3PO decorated soldier-bot that got dishonourably discharged for crimes it never committed by a commanding officer that’s afraid of unwanted media attention.

Language

A sunny late Saturday morning in July. I put on my gym shorts, play a Davie Bowie album on my phone, and start running. “The seawall is beautiful”, I think. In English, and for a moment I find my subconscious’s choice of language surprising. Some thoughts pass through as voiceless, immediate concepts while others are a “voice” that talks to me. Of the latter, my head has been alternating between Hebrew, English, and Spanish for the large part of my life. About a third of my inner voice speaks to me in English, Spanish happens on extremely rare occasions, and Hebrew takes the majority.

Inner world

As I spend more and more time in Vancouver I feel like English takes a larger part in my inner voice, but it all depends on context. Thinking about what I’m going to say before saying it is almost exclusively English at this point. Thinking about computer science has been in English for years. Having growing up with my Spanish-only speaking chef for a grandfather, thinking about food is in Spanish. Math is exclusively Hebrew.

Perception

Different languages create different realities for native speakers. For good or bad. Having Hebrew as my native tongue makes me see the world in a dichotomy of male and female: busses and computers are male, bicycles and restaurants are female, cars can be either (אוטו Oto is male, מכונית Meḥonít is female, both words mean “car”)

I wonder how my friends whose native language is English see objects. I wonder what crazy world my Spanish native friends see when they look at a male restaurante. I wish I could switch my world view as easily as I can switch the language I speak.

Math

I try to switch to English when I’m thinking about numbers, so I’ll be less confused by day to day arithmetic and basically just to immerse myself in the local language. I pick two random numbers - “Eight times seven is fifty six”. Too easy. I run in front of a building numbered 786. “Eighty six times seven is…” abstract numbers churn inside my head until the answer spews: “…שש מאות ושתיים”. Shit. David Bowie sings “It Ain’t Easy” in my ears. Amusing coincidence. I shift my focus to something else. Maybe next time.

Accent

A while back I was talking to a friend about laptops and I mentioned something about the battery, it came out sounding like “buttery” and we both laughed at this. A few weeks later I mentioned wanting to find an accent elimination coach and he said he’s against it - he would miss my adorable accent induced funny times. “In two years, you won’t find it funny, but I will still sound out of place.” We didn’t really expand on this. I have a weird accent in English. Almost nobody can guess where I’m from, not even other Israeli expats. I don’t have any theory as to how this came to be.

Vocabulary

Studying in English felt surreal at first. Most of the English lectures I had in my life were on YouTube or TED. Getting used to having this as a daily reality took some time. Teaching a lab in English is a doubly new experience, I didn’t even know what was going on there for the first few times. My students are sweet and they don’t even react when I stutter, misuse/mispronounce a word, or pause for a couple of seconds to think of the right word to use. Having an active social life in English still feels weird, and I’m not sure why that is. I’ve noticed that I feel more comfortable and can convey more complex thoughts when I’m speaking with friends who are also non-native English speakers (who are not Hebrew speakers) and I stutter and shy away more when there are native speakers in the crowd. It feels as if every deep, subtle word in my vocabulary is erased.

…

Languages shapes your world and I struggle to keep mine complex.