Basketball as metaphor for disengagement

Jerusalem Post, Daily; October 24, 2006

In the new documentary 'Home Game,' Gush Katif's teenage athletes recall an unlikely basketball tournament staged in the final days before Israel's pullout from Gaza.

Elidad Schneid usually got nervous before major games of the Gush Katif inter-settlement basketball league. As a member of the Netzer Hazani team, the winner of most of the league's championship trophies, he should have been particularly nervous hours before the tournament final against Neve Dekalim. But he wasn't. He was too busy planning for another battle scheduled for the same day: the battle over his home.

Schneid is one of the few basketball players interviewed in Home Game, a new documentary following the struggle of the Netzer Hazani community to hold on to its Gaza Strip homes in the days before the fateful August 2005 implementation of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's disengagement plan.

"During summer vacation in Netzer, we [usually] only talked about basketball and the tournament," he explains in the film, looking back more than half a year after the disengagement. "Last [summer] was a totally different story. Basketball was much less on our minds."

At the time, however, the 19-year-old basketball player and his teammates decided to go on with the championship, seeing the tournament as one of their final anti-disengagement protests.

The film begins with uniformed Gush Katif teenagers bopping down the court with crowds of kids cheering them on. While the scene may strike some as an oddly cheerful opening for a film on such a controversial subject, the championship is ultimately used as a metaphor to examine the feelings of the teenagers as they battle - physically and spiritually - to preserve the community where many of them grew up. Home Game seeks to show that just as the Netzer Hazani basketball team played on the court, so they "played" in the struggle over their settlement: with tenacity, hope and determination.

"Everyone can understand sports - the desire to struggle, win and fight until the end, both on the player level and team level," explains Avi Abelow, the producer of the film.

He and the director, Yaron Shane, thought that focusing on basketball would draw viewers of a variety of political and religious shades into the human story of the settlers' drive to overturn the disengagement plan. "Many people around the world and in Israel, in part because of their political or religious orientations, did now allow themselves to empathize with what these people went through and experienced," Abelow said.

Abelow developed the idea for the film after taking a leave from his Tel Aviv consulting job to support the Gush Katif settlers. After infiltrating Netzer Hazani two weeks before the disengagement began, he used his digital camera to document what he hoped would not be the Gaza settlements' final days. Despite having no previous experience in the film industry, he assembled his footage to create a short film to help raise money for Gush Katif residents after their evacuation, offering donors a longer version as a bonus. This longer film eventually evolved into a full-fledged documentary.

Shane, an experienced director and producer with his own editing and film services company, didn't think Abelow had enough footage for a full feature, so he and the first-time director collected footage taken by Netzer Hazani families themselves.

The bulk of their filmmaking, he says, was actually done largely in post- production. The final product has been extracted from over 80 hours of film. Some of the included footage retains a home-made feel, but overall the filmmakers' editing gives Home Game a professional look.

"I said to myself, 'This is footage that everyone must see to get [the settlers'] story, their perspective of what they went through," says Abelow. "If viewers are allowed to focus on the people and human story, they could come out of the experience feeling a closer connection to the people and to understand their tragedy, regardless of whether they supported the disengagement plan or not. The film is about creating a connection and empathy for fellow Jews who feel forgotten by their people, not about changing their political opinion."

Home Game's insider footage includes teenagers painting the settlement in orange, the color associated with the anti- disengagement movement; a near violent encounter between young settlers and border police; the settlers' return of their weaponry to the IDF; emotional meetings in which settlers discuss painful decisions about how to prepare for their evacuation; the heart-wrenching day of the evacuation itself; and, of course, the final home game.

One of the central figures in the film, 19-year-old Einat Yefet, filmed her final days at Netzer Hazani as part of a deal with Channel 10. Scenes from her cinematic journal feature prominently in the movie. "It was important for me to document our struggle - what we've done, all of our creation," she explains in the film. "We feel that no one understands what we are going through."

When Yefet and her fellow residents were approached by Abelow and Shane to assist them with the film, she hesitated. But she ultimately decided to participate, she said, not only to influence others, but to begin a process of healing. She describes working on the film as a type of therapy.

"After the expulsion we tried to escape," she said. "Not only did you lose your home, but you feel scattered and confused. We had no direction, support or help. For youth who didn't know anything aside from Gush Katif, coping with it was very difficult. We went through a process of repression."

Working on the film wasn't easy, she says, with the project forcing her to confront difficult memories she had tried to block. But she persisted. "The first weeks of working on the film were terrible for me, and I cried all the time," she said. "It was like a very difficult surgery, but if I didn't perform it, it would have been very hard to continue."

Next month she'll embark on a trip to American Jewish communities to screen the film and raise funds for the Gush Katif community, many of whose members remain unemployed more than a year after the disengagement.

Shane, the film's director, says he feels confident that Home Game's youthful subjects are satisfied with the way their story is told. "The fact that they see the film as something that is their own is a compliment," he said.

Home Game has screened in more than 50 communities across Israel over the last few months, as well as in several cities abroad. The audiences are usually sympathetic to the Gaza settlers, but Gush Katif documentaries can be a tough sell - particularly to disengagement supporters and those not generally interested Israeli politics.

The film was shown to the mainstream Israeli press at a Tel Aviv screening last week. Abelow is working on getting the film shown at the country's cinematheques and film festivals, and says his ultimate goal is to get it shown on a major Israeli television network.

Home Game will next screen for high school and youth groups in Israel on November 5, a date chosen for its proximity to the anniversary of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin's assassination. The hope, filmmakers says, is that the film will create tolerance between different sectors of Israel's population.

Party in the valley (listing)

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; October 20, 2006

During the past year Emek Hefer, the rural valley sandwiched between Netanya and Hadera, has planted the seeds for a steadily growing nightlife. It used to be that residents of villages, farms and kibbutzim in the area had to travel to Herzliya or Tel Aviv to experience the glamorous pubs and dance bars. Not anymore.

The sprouting nightlife reflects a changing demographic profile in Emek Hefer, which is slowly becoming a nouveau college town. The villages have become attractive places to live for many students and young professionals. Colleges in the area, such as Ruppin College and Netanya College, have created a market of potential partyers seeking quality nightlife establishments rather than kibbutz cafes or pubs.

The following is a partial listing for adventurers who want to break out of Tel Aviv and see how Sabras party in the little cities.

Ha'ogen Under the slogan "Because every Friday you need to fall apart!" Alcoholic productions presents a happening party every Friday for students over 23. Music: hip-hop. Dance: Israeli. Kibbutz Ha'ogen, Info: 0523-753800

Inigo Montoya When Inigo Montoya opened last year, a nightlife monsoon hit the valley. Inigo's pumping music, well-dressed folk, exclusivity and hot bartenders make it the most Tel Aviv-style dance bar in the valley. It's not the place to go for a quiet night but to party with the "in" crowd. Em Haderech Mall; Yonnai Junction; open daily from 9 p.m.; Tel: 0528-697824

Lechet A pioneering nightlife institution in Emek Hefer, Lechet is one of the most popular weekend spots for soldiers. It's in Kfar Vitkin and is open Friday and Saturday nights. Music: hip-hop, alternative, mainstream. Tel: 0543-955539

Muze The first mega-bar in the area, Muze is probably the most ambitious. Half a million dollars was invested to turn this former hangar in Emek Hefer into a world-class establishment. With 90 stools, it's arguably one of the largest bars in Israel, maybe even larger than Tel Aviv's Lanski, although it has yet to reach the prestigious Tel Aviv club's status. Emek Hefer Industrial Zone, Tuesday- Saturday from 9 p.m.; Tel: 0509-339879

Natasha Once busy as a weekend dance bar for students and soldiers, Natasha is now the prime locale for "organic" parties. Among the more "natural" and "rustic" of all the nightlife options, these parties are "non-toxic." No smoking is allowed on the dance floor, and tea and natural foods are served on the patio. People of all ages can "come as you are" to dance to world music and golden oldies. It's at the entrance to Kfar Haim and opens every other Saturday night. Tel: 0507-958676

Selfa As one of the first dance bars in Emek Hefer, Selfa was among those that started the pub disco ball rolling. Located right next to Muze in a secluded industrial zone, Selfa consists of a rectangular bar and lounge area with leather sofas. Despite its classic design, Selfa still has a village appeal. On almost any given night, locals 23 and over are likely to bump into old friends. Emek Hefer Industrial Zone; Tuesday-Saturday from 9 p.m. Tel: 0525-400482

Vasco Only a few months old, Vasco is a little darker and more subdued than some other establishments, although the design is standard, with a rectangular bar and a wall lined with sofas. What distinguishes it is an outdoor patio overlooking the valley. Its location, deep within a small mall in Emek Hefer, means that only people "in the know" go there, usually students and an older, professional crowd. Ha'ogen Junction. Open daily from 9 p.m. Tel: 0544-84564

Valery Located across the way from Inigo Montoya, Valery is arguably the most elegant restaurant/bar in the area. The place feels like a bistro during the day and a dance bar at night, when it gets busy with younger folk. It gets really busy on weekends, with DJs spinning freestyle, and is a convenient alternative for those who can't get into Inigo Montoya. Emek Haderech Mall; Yonnai Junction. Open daily from 12 p.m. Tel: (09) 866-6720

Zuf "on the water" is a unique outdoor club near a stream and forest in Kfar Vitkin, equipped with swimming pools and a small camping site (for late-night, drunk revelers). Geared mostly for soldiers, Zuf is popular nationwide, particularly for its warm, personal treatment. The catchy website says it all: www.zuf.co.il

Jewish learning on the rise in Tel Aviv

Jerusalem Post, Metro; October 20, 2006

Over the last decade, centers for Jewish study have been growing and thriving.

A day before Succot, a bunch of 18-year-old girls and boys sat on a lawn under the trees in south Tel Aviv to study Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), the book traditionally read on Succot. They had started the class inside a makeshift classroom at the Shapira community center, the temporary campus of the new Secular Yeshiva in Tel Aviv but moved outside to enjoy the inspiration of the fresh air.

The teacher was commenting on the nature of happiness as described in Ecclesiastes through a look at excerpts from such thinkers as John Stuart Mill and Ahad Ha'am. Students were engaged in unraveling the wisdom wedded in the Jewish canon.

The idyllic scene of Israelis studying Torah may seem out of place in Tel Aviv. The urban center of Israel is known more for its industry, entertainment, culture, bars and restaurants than for its yeshivas and synagogues. But in the last decade, centers for Jewish learning have been growing and thriving in Tel Aviv. That Tel Aviv is one of the most secular cities in Israel has actually made it an experimental and fertile ground for Jewish outreach and education.

"I think Tel Aviv is the capital of secularism because it's also juxtaposed against Jerusalem," explains Benjy Maor, director of resource and development of the Secular Yeshiva. "We decided to establish a secular yeshiva in Tel Aviv for that reason. If you create a framework that's relevant for secular Israelis, you have to do it in the heart of where it is."

The Secular Yeshiva, a project of the Bina Center for Jewish Identity and Hebrew Culture, aims to give young secular Israelis the opportunity to study Jewish texts from a humanistic perspective. Many of the participants, who come from all over Israel, weave their yeshiva studies into their pre-army or post-army track. The curriculum combines community service in the Shapira community, among the poorer in Tel Aviv, as part of the program's emphasis on social action.

Maor, who made aliya 23 years ago from Los Angeles, has observed how young secular Israelis are often alienated from Jewish sources. He attributes this, in part, to their inability to see Judaism's relevance to their lives and values. Many of the students come into the secular yeshiva program associating Judaism with stringent Orthodox practice or politicized religion, with a general aversion to both.

Maor notices an upward trend in pluralistic Jewish learning throughout Tel Aviv. "Relative to 10 years ago, there's no question that if you look across Tel Aviv from south to north, Jewish pluralism is on the map. There are activities of all kinds."

The Secular Yeshiva is refurbishing its new campus in a building donated by the city, which has expressed support for the project. The city subsidizes its own center for Jewish culture at a state-of-the-art building located off Ibn Gabirol on Zeitlin Street. The Brodt Center, built three years ago, conducts programs, activities and courses for non-affiliated Tel Avivians. Its goal is to connect Tel Aviv residents to their heritage and roots through contemporary Jewish culture. The city's active involvement in Jewish learning reflects the growth of interest in the city, says Shira Sivan, director of the center.

"When you do things that are fitting for a young, non-religious crowd, there is demand."

One of the pioneers of the revival of interest in Jewish sources among secular Tel Avivians is Ruth Calderon. While she bears no formal affiliation to the Secular Yeshiva, she regards it as a welcome participant in the same endeavor as the educational institute, Alma, which she founded 10 years ago. Alma is a "center for Hebrew culture" where "Hebrew" does not refer to the language but to the integration of Judaism and modernity.

"I think we should redefine 'secular,'" says Calderon, an active figure in Jewish education throughout Israel. "Tel Aviv non-rabbinic Jews respect culture very much; when we offer them an entrance into Judaism as scholarship or classic narrative culture instead of halacha, it is surprising how much hunger and openness you can find in Tel Aviv."

Calderon grew up in a "very Jewish" secular home, but when she sought to study classic Jewish texts and spirituality, she had trouble finding a non-affiliated educational framework in Tel Aviv. Alma is the culmination of her vision to create what she felt was missing in the city.

"Alma was founded in the hopes of building a home for Hebrew culture - a center of study, ritual, celebration of the Jewish calendar for the non-affiliated majority in Israel and the world."

Located just off Sderot Rothschild, Alma has expanded its activities to include Haifa and has established Alma New York. Alma Tel Aviv offers full and part-time tracks that combine the study of Bible and Talmud with literature, poetry, philosophy and the arts.

Calderon believes the time is ripe for Tel Aviv to live up to its potential as the "Hebrew city" envisioned by Tel Aviv's cultural founding fathers, Ahad Ha'am, Joseph Haim Brenner, and Chaim Nachman Bialik. While Judaism is often not expressed through halachic observance in Tel Aviv, Shabbat and holidays remain "different" from the rest of the week, and the special Je wish atmosphere is present in the many expressions of Hebrew culture in the city. True Hebrew culture, however, co mes from the meeting bet ween the creative arts and Jewish sources.

"Our vision at Alma is to become a meeting place between the talented creators of culture in Israel and the wonderful heritage that belongs to them, to which they were never really introduced." To facilitate this meeting, Alma has tailored a beit midrash program for television script writers and musicians.

While institutes such as Alma and the Secular Yeshiva are providing Jewish learning pathways for secular Israelis who would automatically reject Jewish learning in an Orthodox framework, Jewish learning from a traditional and halachic perspective has also been making headway in the city.

Rosh Yehudi, whose headquarters is off Rehov Bogroshav, is geared toward individual secular Tel Avivians seeking meaningful spiritual outlets. Its sign reads "Center for Self-Awareness."

"I couldn't stand the idea that in the center of culture in Israel there didn't exist the most 'banal,' true, simple alternative, which is the true culture of Am Israel, the culture of the Torah: Judaism," explains Israel Zeira, who founded Rosh Yehudi 10 years ago. "In Tel Aviv we have all the cultures, all the avodot zorot (idolatries) in the world - everything you want, but no Judaism."

Like Calderon, Zeira is concerned that gatekeepers of culture are often disconnected from their Jewish identity and texts. "When you go to Tel Aviv you see that all creative Israeliness happens here - journalism, communications, television. It's amazing that the city that creates Israeli culture lacks Jewish identity."

In its early days, Rosh Yehudi's staff had to stand outside and recruit passers-by for a minyan or weekly class. Today, the classroom is packed every week with men and women ranging from ages 20-50, wearing shorts, jeans and tank tops, who come to listen to the weekly Torah portion, biblical commentary and traditional Jewish sources on happiness and the meaning of life. While its orientation is Orthodox, there is no political agenda or religious coercion. People are encouraged to come, wearing and asking whatever they want.

"It's clear that no one likes to be forced into something they don't understand. Man is a free person, and freedom is a very important virtue in the Torah," says Zeira.

Rosh Yehudi recently expanded and refurbished an old synagogue on Bar Kochva. The synagogue had not been used for years, but a crew of volunteers worked hard to get it cleaned up in time for the High Holidays. All its seats were filled on Yom Kippur.

The growth of traffic in the classroom and synagogue rivals the growth of interest on the Internet. In the "Ask the rabbi" section, more and more people turn to Jewish wisdom on a variety of topics. But Zeira sees this growing interest as an outgrowth of increasing dissatisfaction with nihilist or hedonistic secular culture.

"In the past few years there has been more interest perhaps because the public is coming to the conclusion that there are no real answers to life and that life has lost its zohar and beauty. People are looking for hope, light, direction. And there is no direction."

Community-geared yeshivas with a religious Zionist orientation have sprung up across the city to heal the divide between Judaism and mainstream secular Israelis. Their approach is to situate themselves within a certain community and create a significant, traditional Jewish presence.

Across the street from the temporary grounds of the Secular Yeshiva (which is building its permanent home nearby) is Yeshivat Orot Aviv. Founded six years ago in the Shapira community, it has a non-secular orientation, teaching Torah Judaism not as Hebrew culture but as an integral way of life. Identified with the religious Zionist camp, it combines full-time traditional yeshiva learning and community programs. "Seed families" with husbands who study there, live among the residents to infuse traditional Jewish life into south Tel Aviv.

"It's important for them that there are religious families in Tel Aviv," says Merav Monsonego, who runs the office.

The yeshiva is situated in an old synagogue that used to serve a once-active Jewish community in the area. During Succot, the yeshiva organized events for kids in and around the succa. On Simchat Torah they walked around the entire city with a Sefer Torah to raise the holiday spirits of the secular city. During the week they run weekly classes for women, as well as bar-mitzva training for boys.

"We try to make an atmosphere of Judaism in the community," says Monsonego. "Ha'rav Mishael Cohen, the rosh yeshiva, conceived of this idea. He understood that for Am Yisrael to be connected to Torah, the religious communities can't live isolated from the rest of Israel. Tel Aviv is the heart of Israel."

Yeshivat Ma'ale Eliyahu, located behind Ichilov Hospital, is a yeshiva of higher learning also affiliated with the religious Zionist community. It runs programs and events open to the public to infuse Jewish learning and identity into the city through an approach that applauds and adheres to Jewish law.

Rav Uri Sherki, who teaches Bible at Rosh Yehudi, has high hopes for Tel Aviv: "It is the most spiritual of cities because here they are searching. They could reach a great high or low - but they are in a search. The search is always a safe ground for spiritual ascension."

(BOX #1) How Jewish are they at Jewish Princess?
In Israel, only a bar in Tel Aviv would have a wall relief designed with laser cutouts of Kama Sutra positions. Only a bar in Tel Aviv with such a wall relief would call itself "Jewish Princess."

While not necessarily the intention of the owners, the satirical name represents the playful disdain often associated with Tel Aviv and Judaism. To discover whether or not this stereotypical aversion to Judaism exists in Tel Aviv, Metro met with a few bargoers at Jewish Princess on a busy Thursday night to find out the extent of their connection to Judaism.

Limor, 32, embraced her Jewish identity more in the US than she did in Tel Aviv. "In New York they respect it more. Here it's taken for granted, and you don't have to deal with questions about Jewish identity."

Assaf, 32 from Givatayim, was proud to say, "I'm a Jew." Barak, having a beer next to him, was much more positive toward Judaism and religious people. "When I'm around religious people, I respect them as I do all religions." He argues that Tel Aviv is more religiously tolerant than people give it credit for - it goes along with the do-whatever-makes-you-happy ethos.

Hadas, 31, who lives in Tel Aviv, finds value in Judaism, although she doesn't actively practice. "I'm a Jew and I believe in God. It expresses itself in everything I do. I always ask if what I do is okay." But she doesn't see any proclivity of Tel Avivians to Judaism. In fact, she sees the opposite - a mocking, purposeful desecration - that's what Tel Aviv is for, she says.

Yair, the son of parents who left the haredi fold, represents one of the more extreme anti-Jewish attitudes. "Judaism is not relevant," he says. "I'm a human being. In the Diaspora, Judaism has a different meaning. Here we are the Jewish state. I don't feel a need to be Jewish."

Among those interviewed, there was one woman studying Judaism at the Kabbalah Center, attracted to the mixture of Judaism and mysticism. "It's in my language," she said. She thinks more Tel Avivians should embrace Judaism as a path to spirituality.

Guy, her friend, said, "I fought in Lebanon. That's the most Jewish I can get."

(BOX #2) Where to go
The following is a partial list of institutions with non- academic Jewish education programs and activities in the Tel Aviv area:

Alma College
4 Bezalel Yafe
(03) 566-3031
www.alma.org.il

Beit Daniel, the Center for Progressive Judaism
Bnei Dan St.
(03) 544-2740

Bina Center for Jewish Identity and Hebrew Culture
1 Hayasmin, Ramat Efal
(03) 534-2513/2997
www.bina.org.il

Brodt Center for Jewish Heritage Studies
22 Zeitlin
(03) 695-4522

The Kabbalah Center
14 Ben-Ami
(03) 526-6800
www.kabbalah.co.il

Machon Shorashim
(haredi)
13 Feierberg
(03) 560-3243

Midreshet Aviv
(for women)
(03) 609-2229
www.midreshetaviv.co.il

Rosh Yehudi
45 Bograshov
Tel/Fax: (03) 525-5355
www.rosh-yehudi.co.il

Yeshivat Aviv Hatorah
1 Binyamini
(Nahlat Yitzhak)
(050) 8736454

Yeshivat Ma'ale Eliyahu
(03) 695-9917
www.yeshivatelaviv.org.il

Yeshivat Orot Aviv
23 Rabbi Yisrael Misalant, Shapira
(03) 697-8936
(050) 8822088
orotaviv@gmail.com

Where the guys go

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; Friday, October 13, 2006

Even the name of this new mega-bar in the Yad Harutzim bar compound of Tel Aviv evokes machismo and self-indulgence. That the Ego Bar was founded by Israeli hoopster Moshe Mizrahi together with the Israeli television channel for men, EGO, only strengthens the impression that the bar is a men's club.

While metrosexuals and straight gals who don't mind a little chauvinism seem like its natural clientele, it remains to be seen what kind of people this athletic, male-themed bar will attract. Ego Bar opened last week (September 29) with a loud party attended by many tall men (fellow basketball players), Mizrachi's friends and guests of both sexes. Mizrahi insists that Ego Bar is a place where all genders should feel comfortable.

'If you see the decor, it's not really a man's bar,' he asserts. Built on the grounds of Escobar, there are no loud masculine motifs, even though there was an erotic dancer at the opening party. The colors of the bar match the EGO channel logo: red, yellow, and orange, adding warmth to the impressive space. The DJ booth, shaped like a jail cell, spins a different genre of music every night over a commendable sound system. Some of the decor is a little flamboyant, particularly the red-leathered lounge areas with their funky chandeliers, but the main bar is generally user friendly.

Mizrahi got the idea for the bar 'on the spur of the moment,' following conversations with friends.

But yet another athlete opening a bar? Makes one wonder if the whole endeavor isn't just an ego trip.

Rehov Shevach, Tel Aviv
(03) 639-1551
Hours: From 9 p.m.

Mea Gulpa (bar review)

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; October 12, 2006

Click here for original

Modern rabbinic lore has it that even though Tel Aviv is the secular capital of Israel it is one of its holiest cities, since no church has been built there. Well, at least not until a few months ago.

The newest "church" in Tel Aviv, Griffin, combines the best of two "evils": Christian iconography and steamy Tel Aviv nightlife.

Griffin, whose name is taken from an early symbol describing Jesus, is a happening, well-stocked lounge bar whose interior is designed to resemble an imposing cathedral.

"This is a dream I had for years," explained Yossi Sher, one of the owners. The idea for this house of liquor worship came when he was partying at an Amsterdam club built inside a former church. He was intrigued by the many common motifs: high ceilings to make a man feel like he is part of something greater, and romantic lighting and art for a feeling of mystic exaltation.

While studying architecture at Tel Aviv University, Sher worked at various TA pubs. As a student, he had already begun to create a model of his bar/church using 3D digital imaging.

The final result is impressive. The lighting, pillars, craftsmanship, embroidery and high ceilings all add to a sense of grandeur. The nave consists of a long, rectangular bar with 60 "pews" leading up to the priest's podium (aka the DJ booth). Above the booth is a stained-glass window with images the pope might find illuminating. The bar is flanked by two lounge areas so people can observe the procession of fellow sinners... err, congregants. The bathrooms resemble confessionals and are perfectly suited for the activities common in pick-up bars - things that would require confession.

Sher and his partner Yuval Barashi, an interior designer, were able to create exactly what they envisioned; it's as if Sher's education was all filtered into the project. Griffin is the only structure Sher has ever built as a graduate of architecture school.

This shrine to Tel Aviv nightlife is intended to attract those who are pious about their nightlife priorities: looking good, smoking premium cigarettes, nursing quality drinks, and picking up classy members of the opposite sex. Almost since its opening two months ago, it has been a hot spot for an attractive professional crowd.

Griffin definitely has an aura of Tel Aviv nightlife sanctity, assisted by devout attention to detail in food, d cor and service. It is located right under the Levenstein business towers. Ironically, prior to construction, the empty site had been used as a makeshift synagogue by the religious Israelis who worked there. But Sher didn't seriously consider combining a shul and a bar.

"Synagogues are much less impressive than churches," he explains.

Rehov Menachem Begin 23, Tel Aviv; (03) 560-0001; hours: from 8 p.m.

A bar for valley girls (bar review)

Jerusalem Post, Billboard; September 29, 2006

'My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.' The most happening bar-lounge in Emek Hefer, the rural valley just north of Netanya, takes its name from this famous cinematic phrase of The Princess Bride, which follows Princess Buttercup's love for a blonde farm boy. While you may not find any blonde princes or princesses at Inigo Montoya, chances are you'll find strapping Israeli farmboys and farmgirls, since Inigo Montoya was created to serve the outlaying farm communities, kibbutzim and villages that dot the valley.

One such farmboy is co-owner Ziv Rabinovich, who grew up in a moshav nearby. A pioneer of the nightlife scene in Emek Hefer, he began his career renting out a hangar in the woods for weekend parties for soldiers. Lechet, as the place became known, soon became a full-fledged party production house. With the expertise and connections he acquired, Rabinovich and his partners decided to open a bar that could rival those in Tel Aviv.

'We knew there was a lack of bars of this caliber in this area,' he explains. By 'this style,' he refers to pumping music, invested decor, a professionally run bar, good-looking bartenders, selection by age and lots of sex appeal. Rabinovich and his partners researched bars in Herzliya and Tel Aviv (if you can call partying research) to transplant cosmopolitan standards to a sleepy town whose nightlife had hitherto consisted mostly of kibbutz cafes and mom-and-pop pubs.

Inigo Montoya just celebrated its first anniversary on September 15 with a wild party attracting the 'who's who' of Emek Hefer and celebs including singer Shiri Maimon, actor Ofer Shechter and A Star is Born winner Jacko Eisenberg, showing Tel Aviv that Emek Hefer knows how to party. The entire portico was lavishly decorated, and a nearby hall was rented out to make room for the 2,000 partiers who came to celebrate this local nightlife achievement and dance the night away to well-known trance ensembles such as Astral Projection.

The place is packed every night with locals and students living in the area. Bar reservations are recommended, unless you don't mind rubbing against some well-dressed farmgirls or farmboys in the aisles. The interior brick design is dark yet warm and friendly, meant to mimic a medieval castle. But there are no medieval norms at Inigo Montoya. Locals come to get wasted and perhaps leave with a Prince or Princess Charming.

One would be hard-pressed to find English speakers in Inigo Montoya (or other bars in the area for that matter), mostly because Emek Hefer is home largely to sabras. That's part of its appeal. Inigo Montoya is for nightlife adventurers who are tired of Tel Aviv conventions and seek a night out with small-town, homegrown Israeli partiers.

Despite its exclusivity, Inigo Montoya is easily accessible. It's located at the Yonnai Junction, on the second floor of a shopping center that serves as a popular rest stop for Tel Aviv-Haifa commuters. More and more Tel Avivians are making the half-hour trek to Inigo Montoya for its farmlike coziness, earthy abandon, quality food and rural clientele.

Hopefully, it won't get overrun by too many out-of- towners.

Em HaDerech Mall; Yonnai Junction
Open daily from 9 p.m.
Ages: 23+ girls; 25+ boys
Music and specials: Sun: Israeli (50% off Sushi), Mon: Hip hop (20% off wine), Tues: Rock/alternative (20% off beer); Thurs-Sat: Freestyle
No cover

New book tries to keep Orthodox--Orthodox (book review)

The Jewish Journal; September 21, 2006

Click here for original

"Off the Derech: Why Observant Jews Leave Judaism; How to Respond to the Challenge," by Faranak Margolese (Devora, 2005).

Several years ago, I received an online questionnaire asking things like: "If you had to attribute your not being observant to one thing, what would it be?" and "Did you ever feel rejected because you were not observant enough?" Now my answers, as well as those of 465 other Orthodox rebels, are the subject of the book, "Off the Derech."

Written by Faranak Margolese, a Los Angeles native and graduate of Yeshiva of Los Angeles Girls High School who now lives in Jerusalem, the book seeks to explain why some Jews who grow up in observant homes and attend Orthodox schools drop halachic observance later in life. By understanding this phenomenon, she believes Orthodox communities and individuals could more effectively remedy it.

But this book is not aimed at people who went off the derech, which in Hebrew means "path." Instead, it's intended for those seeking to ensure Orthodox continuity. Throughout the book, Margolese does not treat those who went "off the derech" with disdain or disapproval; rather, she turns her critical focus to certain behaviors and attitudes of Orthodox people, which can turn younger generations off to Torah Judaism.

Nonetheless, her book has earned her praise from leading Orthodox rabbis for outlining an integral path of honest introspection for Orthodox communities, making the book a fitting read for the High Holidays.

Margolese conceived of the idea for the book when she began to notice that many of her friends who grew up in religious homes were no longer observant. Margolese describes a period in which she herself experienced her share of doubts, which resulted in lapses in her observance of Shabbat and kashrut.

Eventually, she resolved the emotional and intellectual conflicts she had with Torah Judaism and has fully committed herself to the Orthodox way of life. Her own experience contributes to the sensitivity with which she tackles the subject.

In an extremely lucid and logical style, Margolese makes a praiseworthy attempt not to oversimplify the reasons why people of different Orthodox shades abandon observance, which she defines loosely as the halachic observance of Shabbat and kashrut. Often, a complex series of factors and experiences trigger defection.

One main reason, she argues, is negative emotional associations young Orthodox Jews develop toward Judaism as a result of hurtful encounters with Orthodox people. These include parents who make children feel rejected for failing in religious observance, teachers who call students "wicked" or "dirty" for dabbling with secular ideas or behaviors, or any Orthodox Jews, particularly rabbis and educators, who are overly judgmental or nitpicky regarding the minutiae of Jewish laws at the expense of kindness and understanding.

Margolese separates emotional and intellectual issues and explains that emotional dissatisfaction is more an influential motivator than intellectual issues with Judaism. In fact, a majority of her respondents affirmed that they still believe in the Divine origins of the Torah. Nevertheless, she found rabbis and teachers often turn their students off to Torah Judaism and rabbinic authority by downplaying their sincere quest to understand God, Torah and reasons for observing mitzvot, (commandments).

Margolese offers several remedies, which put the burden of change on potential role models. Prescriptions include: parents not dogmatically enforcing religious observance at the expense of their child's emotional well-being and sense of security; parents and educators grounding their emphasis on maintaining observance with the humanitarian purpose, inspiring vision and rational context underlying mitzvot, and practitioners not shying away from questions posed by intellectually curious Orthodox Jews.

By turning culpability to observant people, educators and communities, Margolese successfully removes blame from the ideal Orthodox system she portrays. If only the practitioners were the models of the best of Orthodoxy fulfilled -- open, spiritual, psychologically perceptive and halachic -- then fewer people might leave the fold.

In keeping with her loyalty to Orthodoxy, Margolese does not devote separate discussion to a popular reason why some people leave Orthodox Judaism: Orthodox Judaism, no matter how it is taught or presented, entails too many restrictions, many of which could be unfulfilling and stifling, both in thought and day-to-day practice.

It is only natural that Margolese defend the belief system and lifestyle she is ultimately advocating, but her remedies will probably not apply to those who have questioned the basic tenets of Orthodoxy and found them wanting.

A celestial tour

Jewish Journal; June 1, 2006

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If "American Idol" runner-up Katherine McPhee can enjoy even half the success achieved by Shiri Maimon, runner-up of the first season of Israel's version of the show -- dubbed "A Star Is Born" -- then she will be lucky.

With a powerful voice and Britney-esque looks and videos, Maimon, 25, has become one of Israel's most sought-after and popular pop stars since winning fourth place in the Eurovision singing competition last year, representing Israel with the moving ballad, "Sheket She'nishar."

Next week she will be in Los Angeles as guest performer alongside veteran Israeli artist Rami Kleinstein on his U.S. tour. Kleinstein has previously performed solo several times in Los Angeles, but this is the first time he'll be bringing his band, The 2nd Council, and his Israeli "Idol" protégé, Maimon.

"Singing together brings out the good chemistry we have," said the usually bubbly Maimon via an e-mail interview, which she managed to sneak in in-between sold out concerts and rehearsals for her starring role in a new musical called, "The Band."

Kleinstein first met Maimon at the "A Star Is Born" finale, when he directed the finalists before the show. He continues to guide Maimon, but this time as the musical director of "The Band," the musical version of the 1970s Israeli cult film of the same name. Following the success of her guest performance at his concerts in Israel, he decided to bring her to the U.S., as well. This will be Maimon's first trip to the U.S. She'll perform a few of her hit songs, including "Le'an Shelo Tilchi," which Kleinstein wrote for her first album.

While not an "avid fan" of "A Star Is Born" or singing contests of the like, Kleinstein said he believes that Maimon, whom he calls "a very talented singer," was one of the few Israeli finalists to use her success in the contest as a springboard to develop a music career, rather than an acting or television career.

"When someone wins 'Idol' and doesn't make a record and goes on to host TV shows where there is business, money and a future, it's as if they've caught a ride on this 'Idol,' where they're voted to be singers, and they don't sing."

As for Maimon's thoughts on "American Idol": "I've watched 'American Idol' a couple of times but not regularly. It's very different from the type of show we have here. The fact that the contestants have the chance to meet some of the great musicians and producers of the world, like Stevie Wonder, is amazing to me."

She counts first-ever "Idol" winner Kelly Clarkson among her favorite American singers, which is only natural since, of all the "American Idols," Maimon's voice and success on the Israeli level most matches that "American Idol" favorite.

Shiri Maimon will perform with Rami Kleinstein at the Avalon on June 5. For tickets, call (818) 986-7332.

Sweet sixteen and ready to rise

The Jewish Journal; May 18, 2006

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Even though 16-year-old singer Liel Kolet was born on a kibbutz in northern Israel, she'd prefer to be called an international artist rather than an Israeli one. That largely explains why many of the younger generation of Israeli rock/pop buffs would know little about her. Nor is she routinely counted among the growing crop of Israeli pop princesses, such as Shiri Maimon, who also will be performing in Los Angeles later this month. She hasn't released an album in Hebrew for wide distribution, and her English songs don't get Israeli radio play.

And that's just fine with Kolet. While the dark, curly-haired singer remains deeply connected to her Israeli roots -- even while trotting the globe in America, Europe and Canada -- she has her sights on the big leagues.

"From the start the idea was to build me as an international singer," she said.

And there are parallels with her idol, Celine Dion. As young singers, both set their sights on international stardom with the backing of a dedicated manager (Kolet's manager is Irit Ten-Hengel). Kolet, like Dion, has a clean and wholesome image, singing heartfelt songs about love, humanity and "the children." On May 20, Kolet will represent Switzerland at the Eurovision singing contest, just as Dion, originally from Canada, did in 1988. The title of Kolet's debut album is "Unison," also the title of Dion's hit debut.

"I'm not trying to be Celine Dion -- we don't have same kind of music -- but what she achieved in her career and the steps she's been through and what she represents are an example to me," said Kolet in a very slight Israeli accent during a telephone interview. "She is an example of what an artist should be: She has an amazing voice and presence on stage that really touches to the heart of people. People come to hear her voice. That to me is what an artist is about."

Kolet has a powerful voice and range, but Israeli-born female vocalists have notoriously failed to make a successful U.S. crossover. With the possible exception of Ofra Haza, another of Kolet's favorites, Israeli divas usually fare better in Europe, which is generally more open to musical diversity.

Still, Ten-Hengel, Kolet's international manager, left her prestigious career as a music executive at Sony Europe to focus solely on Kolet, because she has little doubt that Kolet will achieve her dreams.

"Mark my word: When she's 18, she's huge in America," said Ten-Hengel. "She has the whole package -- voice, personality, love for music, passion and angelic beauty."

A select audience will judge for themselves when Kolet headlines the May 24 black-tie award dinner of the International Visitor's Council. Music industry bigwigs are expected to be there for their own look, including Grammy-award winning producer David Foster, who has produced several of Dion's hits. Ken Kragen, Kolet's U.S.-based manager, is the dinner's honoree for his production of humanitarian projects, including We Are the World and Hands Across America.

A veteran manager of such artists as Kenny Rogers, Lionel Richie, Olivia Newton John and the Bee Gees, Kragen came across Kolet two years ago when he saw a video of her performance at the 80th birthday celebration for former Israeli Prime Minister Shimon Peres. At the star- and diplomat-studded event, Kolet spontaneously called Bill Clinton to the stage to sing a duet with her of Lennon's "Imagine." It happened to be one of her best career moves.

"I realized this lady had amazing poise and ability and was a wonderful singer with an amazing voice," Kragen said.

Two years ago, Kragen introduced the aspiring starlet to American music industry executives in Los Angeles.

With no major American record deals were in the offing, Kolet spent the last two years building up an impressive resume of performances in Europe, particularly in Germany, where she has won several awards. Her management believes that she's now poised to conquer North America, making her upcoming visit to Los Angeles all the more significant.

"It's not easy," Kragen said. "The record industry today is much less inclined to sign new acts. The difference now is that there's a track record in Europe."

Kolet's participation in charity events has put her onstage with artists such as Elton John, U2's Bono and, most recently, Andrea Boccelli. She has developed a close working relationship with Klaus Meine of the legendary German rock band, the Scorpions, having performed with him last year in Israel.

Her first international album, "Unison," is a potpourri of ethnic-tinged love ballads, upbeat pop songs and music with a "message"; it includes three duets with Meine. Their take on Naomi Shemer's "Jerusalem of Gold" is the most Israeli song on the album, reflecting the Israeli pride she says she'll always carry with her.

As Kolet put it: "Singing for peace and everything that I do and my charity events are because I grew-up in Israel."

For more information on Liel Kolet, visit www.liel.net.

Is Tel Aviv really that apathetic?

Jerusalem Post, Metro; March 24, 2006

The stereotypical image of Tel Avivians' political attitudes was aptly reflected when members of the National Union-NRP party took a stroll through the city's Rehov Lilienblum nightlife hub recently.

MKs Arieh Eldad, Effie Eitam and party member Yehoar Gal paid a surprise visit to the bar compound to bring their right-wing/religious message beyond the party's natural constituency.

'The main idea of coming here is to say that at the end of the day, despite our differences and the major dispute we face, we are one nation,' said Eitam.

As party representatives sat at various pubs over beer and casual conversation with Tel Aviv bar hoppers, activists handed out postcards bearing pictures of 'square'-looking right-wing MKs and religious youth, with the tongue-in-cheek caption 'Do you want us to be your neighbors?' - an allusion to the party's stance against further withdrawals from Judea and Samaria. The postcard played on the perception that Tel Avivians - especially those who frequent the city's bars and nightclubs - generally don't like religious Jews and settlers and are likely to cast their vote for pro-disengagement parties.

'Don't you think the Land of Israel is the natural place for the Jews?' Gal asked a youth having a drink at one of the bars.

'I'm a person first and then a Jew,' replied the 18 year-old, voicing a common attitude among secular youth.

Such an attitude makes Tel Aviv the punching bag of some settlers and right-wingers, who consider the city rife with anti-Jewishness and national apathy. Similarly, religious settlers are often the punching bag of Tel Avivians and leftists, who consider the Land of Israel camp as religious fanatics who pose obstacles to peace and normalcy.

But is it fair to paint Tel Aviv in such broad strokes? A walk through the city's streets during the present election campaign revealed that the stereotype of Tel Aviv as home to the Left and apathetic, while containing some truth, is not always accurate.

At Shesek, a pub on Rehov Lilienblum, manager Roy Zakeyn, 26, a communications student, takes issue with the argument that in Tel Aviv people don't care about or are ignorant of current events.

'We have very strong ideals, I think,' said Zakeyn, who plans to vote - although he is yet not sure for whom. 'Yeah, we're in a bubble and people say we are apathetic, but we just live our lives. We're not going to sit at home depressed.'

For example, he noted that when Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was first hospitalized with a stroke in early January, the bar was a little emptier than usual, but the next day it was packed again.

'One day is enough for Tel Aviv,' he said, adding that Tel Avivians' persistence in living their lives to the fullest is one way to overcome the psychological war underlying life in Israel.

He does, however, agree that in general, secular residents of Tel Aviv don't care for religious Zionism or their forebears - the settlers - which generally aligns them with left-of-center parties.

'It's a big problem for us because we are ready to give up those places for a greater good. On the other hand, sometimes I see the Palestinians and say it's hopeless.'

Eitam, who was sitting over a beer at the pub next door, thinks that this divide between the secular and religious stems from the embracing of secular liberal values represented by the Israeli metropolis.

'Tel Aviv is the nearest environment to Western culture, to the liberal secular components,' he said. 'Many Israelis adapt a very extreme version of individualism. They find after a while that they don't have strong ties to the nation and the religious sector.'

If Eitam had stopped by one of the kiosks in the area, his thesis might have been questioned.

'There can never be peace between Jews and Muslims,' said one local kiosk owner. Pulling out his pistol and raising it to his chest, he added, 'I believe in this. Those people only know this.'

Of Moroccan descent, the kiosk owner thinks that the Ashkenazi elite, largely represented by the media, academia and Tel Aviv professionals, don't really understand the Muslims and therefore have a false illusion that peace is possible. He was against the disengagement and further withdrawals, even though he is not religious.

But his right-wing views make him neither loyal to Israel nor keen on voting. 'Some 85% of the politicians are criminals.' he said, He plans to pack up and move to Thailand with his non-Jewish girlfriend so as not to be in Israel for the pending world war he envisions between the Muslim world and the West.

When people categorize Tel Aviv as the leftist's paradise, they are usually referring to the high life of a city center that boasts the largest concentration of bars, cafes, restaurants and secular singles in Israel. But in the outskirts of the city lives a larger concentration of Sephardic residents who generally cast their vote for right-wing parties.

After the 2003 elections, Yediot Aharonot reported that 28.4% of Tel Avivians cast their vote for Likud, while 22.6% voted for Labor; Shinui polled 15.5%, Meretz 11.1%, and Shas 7.2%. These figures differed greatly from Jerusalem, which voted Likud 27.8%, Torah Judaism 18.1%, Labor 9%, Shinui 6.9% and Meretz 4.8%.

Sheinkin, the ultra-trendy street in the city center with designer shops and boutique cafes that had it's heyday in the 1990s, is often mocked as the anti-settler, bohemian center of Israel.

Elon Gilad, a Tel Aviv representative for the dovish, pro-marijuana legalization Green Leaf party, thinks that Sheinkin may be accused of leaning left, but not of being apathetic.

'I find that Sheinkinites are people with lots of ideals, but they're not involved politically. The people who actually live on the street are involved, care and interested - they'll probably vote for Hadash, Meretz or Green Leaf.'

Election statistics according to voting booths are not available for the most recent elections, but a Central Bureau of Statistics report on the 1996 elections (when the Knesset and prime minister were elected separately) showed that the polling station on Rehov Ba'alei Hamelacha (near Sheinkin) registered 78% for Labor's Shimon Peres and only 22% for Likud's Benjamin Netanyahu. Party ballots gave Labor 28.5%, Meretz 23%, Likud 8.5%, Shinui 5.5%, Green Leaf 4.6% and Hadash (the communist party) 3%. It was the young and artsy Florentine area that gave Green Leaf the most votes at 13%.

However, across all cities the number of Likud voters jumped in the 2003 elections, at the height of the intifada. These days, aside from campaigning NU-NRP MKs, one would be hard pressed to find enthusiastic right-wing supporters in the streets of central Tel Aviv.

This is hardly a surprise to Liron Zaidin, 24, chair of the Faculty of Zionism, a student activist group at Tel Aviv University aimed at raising Zionist consciousness on the campus. Zaidin, a student of economics, mathematics and political science, also heads the Orange Cell student activist group, which last summer distributed orange ribbons and anti-disengagement materials all over Tel Aviv.

Zaidin sees fellow classmates as becoming increasingly disconnected from their Jewish identity and the Land of Israel, and is disillusioned with the shallowness and selfishness he finds around him. He predicts a low voter turnout and more votes for the Green Leaf party, thanks to Tel Aviv.

'People care only about themselves and eating a better pizza or drinking a better beer. It's a sad thing that's happening to our country - people care less about the country and more about nothing.'

Earlier this month, a crew of Orange Cell activists roamed the streets of Tel Aviv to hand out postcards with a picture of the view of Tel Aviv from Ramalla - with the message that should the government give away land in the West Bank, Tel Aviv will not be immune to rockets attacks. They hoped that maybe if Tel Avivians felt directly threatened, they would begin to break out of their bubble and possibly move to the right of the political spectrum.

'There were single instances of people who said 'We don't want you here' - they were influenced by media images that show us as scary people,' said Ayelet Shiber, a student from Ashkelon who handed out postcards in the Florentine area. 'When we spoke to regular people, some looked at it, read it like any other flyer - which is part of the apathy - and said they agreed. I believe that most people agree with us, but the culture today tells them to worry about themselves.'

At Tel Aviv University, Gilad of the Green Leaf party confirms that the campus ethos is generally not sympathetic to right-wingers or settlers.

'I think it's part of a religious-cultural battle that we are having between the religious right and democratic liberalism,' he said.

During the summer, he recounted, the parking lot of the political science department was filled with blue and white ribbons in support of the disengagement.

Zaidin of Orange Cell says the university gave him problems for setting up an orange tent on campus.

It's due to this liberal ethos that Ayelet Finklestein, 19, a proud resident of the West Bank settlement Beit El, is not crazy about hanging out in Tel Aviv, which she considers hostile to her way of life.

'I just don't think they know. I don't think they really care, and if they do care, then they are usually to the Left because it's very cool and nice to love and want peace and all those nice words. That's the fashion,' she says.

David Bannay, a clinical psychologist who lives and works in Tel Aviv, took note of the divide between religious settlers and secular Tel Aviv residents after the disengagement and was disappointed with the apathy that people around him had toward the plight of the evacuees. While he considers himself secular, he tied an orange ribbon to his motorcycle not necessarily because he believes in Greater Israel, but to prevent a split in the nation and a major psychological and social trauma among evacuated settlers.

'People in general in Tel Aviv hold values of freedom and individualism - Western and non-religious values. Protecting Zionist values looks so outdated and primitive to people who are concerned with hedonism and personal success. Settlers are also a community, and they are fighting for the values of their community. This is strange for the people of Tel Aviv.'

But there is another factor that contributes to Tel Aviv's notorious self-absorption, says Bannay.

'Common people in Tel Aviv are busy with urban survival - you are striving for success and looking for this value of international, financial success. You are admired for wealth, beauty, artistic talents - making films and showing pictures. You are looking for entertainment, a varied sex life, drugs and good gossip. Actually you don't care about anything else. You are busy enough with the bounty of the city of Tel Aviv - the city that never stops.'

(BOX #1) Exploding the myth of Sheinkin
It is no longer fair to perpetuate the myth that those who spend their days in cafes on Rehov Sheinkin are either all peaceniks or apolitical. Sheinkin cafes are not as vibrant and 'in' as they once were, and many of the vanguard bohemian types have moved south to artsy Florentine.

Those who frequent Sheinkin cafes nowadays are usually not from Tel Aviv but rather 'tourists' from other Israeli cities roaming one of Israel's most popular shopping avenues, as a casual conversation with Sheinkin coffee sippers will reveal.

Shuli of Caesarea, a former Tel Aviv resident who was sitting at one Sheinkin cafe, says she's probably voting for Kadima, 'but as the best of all evils.'

She can understand voter apathy, thinks that Israelis are fed up with politics, and that Sharon was 'one of the last of the greats.'

'Fortunately, it's the US who's running the show, so I don't really have to worry about who's going to be chosen,' she adds.

Liraz, 24, from a city outside of Tel Aviv, says he follows the news closely and is probably switching his Likud alliances to Kadima. His friend Idan, 22, however, also from outside of Tel Aviv, doesn't know whom to vote for.

'I think I fall into the apathetic category,' he says.

Farther down at another cafe, Ricky, 20, of Hod Hasharon, is hesitating between Meretz and Kadima, but her friend, Ronny, a 20 year-old soldier at the Gaza border, is more certain. She's voting Meretz but as a default candidate. Both enthusiastically agree that if Sharon were healthy, they'd vote for Kadima.

Lian, 21, and Ortal, 20, of Moshav Yegel, a farm community generally aligned with Likud, are both voting for Kadima. Lian offers no special reason for her choice but says that 'all parties really offer the same thing.' Kadima gets Ortal's vote because she 'believed in Sharon's way and the man.'

So Kadima seems to be winning on Sheinkin according to this unscientific, cafe-style poll. That makes the cafes of Sheinkin difficult to categorize - it really depends on whom you ask.

(BOX #2) Tel Aviv settlers
When the residents of the Gaza settlement of Netzer Hazani had no viable housing options just days after August's disengagement, the community's teenagers decided that they would become settlers - in Tel Aviv.

They convinced their parents to set up camp in the park across the street from the Arlozorov bus station to protest their treatment by the Disengagement Authority - and as a wake-up call for the people of Tel Aviv, whom they perceived as apathetic or ignorant of their plight.

For about two weeks the park was transformed into a small tent village, where Netzer Hazani families ate and slept.

'It's in the center [of the country] where people worry about themselves - it's not Jerusalem,' said Nirit Tanami, 22, one of the evacuees.

Sabine Zarbib, a mother of two, said that the teenagers' parents initially discouraged the temporary Tel Aviv settlement for fear that the youths would face callous and uncaring responses.

'They replied that Jerusalem is already with us. We need to get to people who are asleep, who don't know who we are. We want to touch people who aren't like us - the leftists and those who don't care.'

Zarbib and the youths were pleasantly surprised.

'We were amazed at the good hearts of people. Even though Tel Avivians live mostly for themselves, there were many people - not only religious people - who, while they disagreed with us, said that they understand us and would help us.'

For Zarbib and some members of her community, the image of Tel Aviv as a generally leftist, anti-settler or just plain apathetic nerve center was shattered to some extent.

Tanami, too, derived satisfaction for having an effect on a city generally considered to be hostile to settlers of any kind.
'Leftists who came and saw and to whom we spoke- it affected them too. They accepted us very nicely.'