Woke up next to my Turkish room mate. Only because she had the same alarm clock ringtone as me. I was like, ‘Where the fuck am I, who is this person and why does she have my pone?’ Scrambled about and realised it’s cool – am in the Middle East and she has a Blackberry like me. Fine.
Woke up late after a long and hard night of Tel Aviver Fever nightclubbing.
Yesterday I figured 48 hours of no sleeping had really started to catch up with me. I needed to adopt an Israeli sort of attitude for my pending night out on the town with everyone last night.
The amazing thing, discussed over lunch yesterday, (lunch consisting of shitloads of hummus, yes)…but how’s this for a piece of Gaza-filled, war-torn information: For the last 6 months, Israel has been sort of quiet in that realm. No particularly brutal bombings or suicide incidents.
Six months right. I arrived yesterday. And apparently the Palestinians dropped 35 bombs on the border.
The details I am unsure of, and I am at LEAST 2 hours drive from the border I am told, but hell! The excitement! The craziness! I studied Middle Eastern history in second year varsity. I remember having to write the most difficult essay of my life, something along the lines of: Since 1948 and the Al Nakba, who is more wrong – Israel or Palestine?
Have you ever, I mean what the fuck? They’ve both been bombing the bejesus – OK maybe bejesus is not such a great word to use in this context – for years.
And I had to come up with som sort of conclusion. Well, I didn’t, if I remember correctly. The lecturer was Jewish and whatever findings came about from my research, the definitive answer of ‘Palestine’ or ‘Israel’ seemed a little too cut and dry.
Anyway, what was I saying?
Ah hummus, a night out in the town, where my new Israeli friends have promised to show me this crazy night life everyone talks about. (‘5:00 and 4:00am mornings…every night.’) Fine, I told them to prove it.
So.
After work, went down to the beach with my new Dutch and French friend. Had a rum and coke on the beach, lapping waves and shit, and next thing this large and unbecoming plumber's crack enthusiast steps in front of us and he has but only the largest arss crack I have ever seen.
He was kind of ambling around and we were laughing loudly – so next thing:Peas: Dudes he’s going to beat us up. He just saw me take a picture of him.
French dude: ‘Well I’m off.’
Typical, the French always ran away from the war, so this was natural French behaviour.
Told him my bandy of French jokes and while he found them half amusing, also didn’t quite find them uproariously funny.
So we all went out and huge group of us and got drunk. At one of the hottest night spots in town: The Apartment. It was pumping. It was crazy, and I am the capital of the united States of Torn Out.
Apparently Israel is two countries: Tel Aviv and the rest. Tel Aviv is crazy, the rest is orthodox.
Today is going to be one long, hard day.
2 comments:
I'm off!
That was indeed the best sentence I said yesterday. Should have said it again much much before 1.30am.
Feel terrible today.
Your French Friend.
Mini - am dying here.
Ciccio - 'I'm off!' was said by the entire French army. Twice.
:)
Post a Comment