Old/New World Discourse: Anti-status: Part I

Toilet paper is so much more chic to use for emptying the contents of one's nose, in Israel, than are tissues. In the New World, using toilet paper for one's nose is a sign of unnecessary crudeness. In the Old World, the opposite is true; using tissues to expedite the cleaning of nostrils is considered unnecessary consumerism.

In this Holy Land, where tanks are jump-started as much by ingenuity as by brute force, though rarely by the proper tools, where newcomers learn Hebrew by osmosis because they have to, where professionals work two or three jobs just to pay for modest digs, it is unseemly to be materially wasteful. In fact, in most circles, excessive attachment to possessions is stigmatized.

It is not merely that Israel is a land of much valor, but of few trees, or that local salaries are microscopic. It is not just that in this Torah-influenced nation that the emphasis is put on spiritual highs rather than on late model cars. Rather, it is that Israelis, daily, face such big issues of life and death that fleeting, superficial joys are not valued here in the same manner in which they are valued in much of the rest of the world.

Although New World corporations sometimes succeed in establishing branches here, school children tend to pack their lunches in used, plastic grocery bags (rather than in New World-style fresh, paper ones). Hand-me-downs are considered, among teens to be chic garb to be flaunted rather than hidden in embarrassment; it is not so much whether a child graduates into an older sibling's clothes as much as it is a matter of when. Even refurbished appliances, as I lamented last year in this blog, are this culture's norm.

As a friend explained to me, upon my recent discovery that Israel's world class scientists make less than do New World administrative assistants, we're in survival mode here. Israel has to devote the majority of its tax revenue to defense and its citizens must allot the majority of their earnings to that revenue (the 38% tax that New World professionals pay on only a portion of their take home salary seems economical in comparison).

Albeit, this disparity does bother some of the natives. Some Israelis elect to get their education and even their initial work experience in lands which offer bigger signing bonuses. Sometimes those individuals fail to return home.

On the other hand, most of us are glad to have moved here or to have been born here. At the end of days, no one is going to ask what size home we lived in. However, it is likely that we are going to have to give an account of why we dwelled where we did when it was possible to live in otherwise elevated circumstances.

In other words, it's not so much that in Israel less is more. Rather, it's just that for the majority of the population, there's simply less, at least of the material goods. Further, it's not so much that in Israel more is less. Rather, it's just that for the majority of the population, there's simply more, at least in terms of spiritual benefits.

This branding of possessions with ignominy plays out in interesting ways. It means that whereas the kids expect you to let them wonder off to the depths of the Old City without chaperones, and to the Cave of the Machpelah with guides, they mostly couldn't care less about the latest or greatest of portable goods.

In Anti-status, Part II, I will explore some of the ways in which adopting the Israeli view on material goods has accepted my family. Until then, pass the toilet paper and carry lots of duct tape.
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Little Smile:

A recent dinner table conversation centered on the mild intelligence of Murphy, our cat.

I chided Missy Oldest that she could become an animal rights worker who saves many of Israel's dumpster deziens, by collecting millions from well-intended, but misinformed (i.e. we need to be able to feed and shelter human Israelis, first) foreigners.

She shot back at me that such a use of money would surpass our government's dedication of extensive funds for Jerusalem's suspension bridge.

I groused that I wondered why we ever needed such a structure.

My daughter quickly answered that the outdoor sculpture in question was intended to draw tourists.

"Tourists?" I rejoined in disbelief.

Missy had the perfect answer; "the terrorists sure aren't bringing them in."