Being a Human: Postcards from America
The stairs around Union Square are occupied by lots of people seeking to get a little warmer in the New York sun. It fell on the city suddenly, breaking through between one cold wave after another. As usual, the passers-by encounter small groups of polite demonstrators with protest signs in their hands — for the Palestinians, for Gadhafi (why not?) and even some appealing for help for the refugees of the earthquake disaster in Japan.
America has always loved struggles in the name of human rights, especially when they are thousands miles away from it. Around the corner, by a church, several homeless people have been lying for months already on moldy blankets. The demonstrators, just like thousands of other New Yorkers, walk by there every single day and don’t even notice the homeless crying out for some “change.”
These “street furniture” have been an integral part of America’s scenery. According to different data, about 3 million (!) people in the U.S. are “street dwellers.” Along with church entrances, they live in cars or public parks. So who said that America doesn’t like human rights? It likes, definitely likes — OK, more the rights, less the human. But why quibble over trivia?
The ultimate peak of the great economic crisis might already be behind us, but its shock waves are clearly visible everywhere.
Restaurants that used to be crowded only two years ago — now half-empty — fight for every customer. Flagship stores of book lovers, like the four-story “Barnes & Noble” branch in front of the Lincoln Square performing arts center or the three-story “Borders” at the corner of Park Avenue and 57th Street, have closed.
Some lawyers, graduates of prestigious colleges, who until a few years ago were courted by big law firms, are looking to make a living; the lucky ones among them have had their salaries cut significantly.
And, of course, you can’t talk about the U.S. without addressing its Jewish aspect.
Things Unseen from There
On Saturday, I strode on one of the main avenues on the Upper East Side. Out of the blue, a black, broad-shouldered beggar emerged in front of me and pleaded for me to hurry up and obey the commandment of giving “gifts to the poor” — apparently, an advance for the Purim holiday taking place that night. A moment later, discerning a kippa on my head, he awoke and muttered: “Oh, I forgot, you’re Jewish — and on Saturday, no money.”
I’ll tell you what: in the Big Apple, even begging is a business of professionals — who know well the nature of “the people who sanctify the seventh day” and are well versed in the Jewish Sabbath laws.
Things seen from here are unseen from there. For a huge annual event of the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces in the U.S., no fewer than six former Chiefs of General Staff arrived in New York — all those who are still with us in this world, for many good days and years.
In the best tradition, they spent the Saturday in homilies in the local synagogues as the community’s guests of honor. In absence of stars shining on their shoulder straps and dozens of war ribbons on their chests, the generals from Israel had to try to impress their hosts in other ways.
Thus, in one of the city’s most prestigious synagogues appeared Shaul Mofaz, lieutenant general (reserve) and current Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee Chairman. To the applause of his enthusiastic audience, he promised that he’d run really soon for the leadership of Kadima* and the government — and would win, too. He casually added that should more rockets be fired from Gaza to Negev, “the state of Israel will do its best to immediately kick Hamas out of there.”**
The glorified Israeli general only forgot to tell his subscribers — who, if truth be told, were also not so much into the details — how he is going to convince 1.5 million Gaza residents to agree to the sudden shift in the lineup, and why he had not applied his magic solution during his four years as the commander in chief of the Israeli Army or his tenure as the defense minister. But the details, as we all know, are not a big deal to us.
We are good at vision. The details and the implementation — why don’t we leave this, with all humility and modesty, to others?
* Translator’s note: Kadima is a centrist and liberal political party in Israel, currently the second largest and serving as the opposition party.
** Editor’s note: This quote, though accurately translated, could not be verified.
America has always loved struggles in the name of human rights, especially when they are thousands miles away from it. Around the corner, by a church, several homeless people have been lying for months already on moldy blankets. The demonstrators, just like thousands of other New Yorkers, walk by there every single day and don’t even notice the homeless crying out for some “change.”
These “street furniture” have been an integral part of America’s scenery. According to different data, about 3 million (!) people in the U.S. are “street dwellers.” Along with church entrances, they live in cars or public parks. So who said that America doesn’t like human rights? It likes, definitely likes — OK, more the rights, less the human. But why quibble over trivia?
The ultimate peak of the great economic crisis might already be behind us, but its shock waves are clearly visible everywhere.
Restaurants that used to be crowded only two years ago — now half-empty — fight for every customer. Flagship stores of book lovers, like the four-story “Barnes & Noble” branch in front of the Lincoln Square performing arts center or the three-story “Borders” at the corner of Park Avenue and 57th Street, have closed.
Some lawyers, graduates of prestigious colleges, who until a few years ago were courted by big law firms, are looking to make a living; the lucky ones among them have had their salaries cut significantly.
And, of course, you can’t talk about the U.S. without addressing its Jewish aspect.
Things Unseen from There
On Saturday, I strode on one of the main avenues on the Upper East Side. Out of the blue, a black, broad-shouldered beggar emerged in front of me and pleaded for me to hurry up and obey the commandment of giving “gifts to the poor” — apparently, an advance for the Purim holiday taking place that night. A moment later, discerning a kippa on my head, he awoke and muttered: “Oh, I forgot, you’re Jewish — and on Saturday, no money.”
I’ll tell you what: in the Big Apple, even begging is a business of professionals — who know well the nature of “the people who sanctify the seventh day” and are well versed in the Jewish Sabbath laws.
Things seen from here are unseen from there. For a huge annual event of the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces in the U.S., no fewer than six former Chiefs of General Staff arrived in New York — all those who are still with us in this world, for many good days and years.
In the best tradition, they spent the Saturday in homilies in the local synagogues as the community’s guests of honor. In absence of stars shining on their shoulder straps and dozens of war ribbons on their chests, the generals from Israel had to try to impress their hosts in other ways.
Thus, in one of the city’s most prestigious synagogues appeared Shaul Mofaz, lieutenant general (reserve) and current Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee Chairman. To the applause of his enthusiastic audience, he promised that he’d run really soon for the leadership of Kadima* and the government — and would win, too. He casually added that should more rockets be fired from Gaza to Negev, “the state of Israel will do its best to immediately kick Hamas out of there.”**
The glorified Israeli general only forgot to tell his subscribers — who, if truth be told, were also not so much into the details — how he is going to convince 1.5 million Gaza residents to agree to the sudden shift in the lineup, and why he had not applied his magic solution during his four years as the commander in chief of the Israeli Army or his tenure as the defense minister. But the details, as we all know, are not a big deal to us.
We are good at vision. The details and the implementation — why don’t we leave this, with all humility and modesty, to others?
* Translator’s note: Kadima is a centrist and liberal political party in Israel, currently the second largest and serving as the opposition party.
** Editor’s note: This quote, though accurately translated, could not be verified.
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