Middle Eastern Soccer Moments
The evening has settled down snuggly around the local bar (Nola Socks) that is just starting to fill up with World Cup spectators. Michelle idly looks over the team information sheet that the bar has kindly laminated for every table. "Who's playing?" She asks without real interest. "Argentina vs. Greece" I say as the game flickers onto the screen. Michelle seems disgusted "Ewww Argentina....I can't stand them."
I try to pry the reasons from her as my fingers run over the silty grit that covers the table. The past few days had been a sweltering affair, as a heavy Sharav (שרב, there's no english word for it) lay over the land. Sharav's always break dramatically with strong winds literally ripping the hot stagnant air to shreds. This sends fine dust and sand particulates billowing across the land, ultimately covering everything.
Michelle doesn't answer directly but I assume it has something to do with her Colombian roots and some rift in the Latino world that I am not privy to. Eventually she tires of the noise from the game so we retreat to the smokers room in the back where a bar dj is playing surprisingly good music. Michelle and I talk about girly things and about our future apartment together, stopping only to share a shot with the dj who was pleased by our compliments.
At some point I tell her about the wedding I had been at this past weekend. Notable because it featured a mosh pit with music by Rage Against the Machine and others (the bride even got knocked over, only to leap back up and grinningly smash into somebody else). Michelle claims that she has been to such a wedding as well. I try to one up her - "Yeah okay, but they played Marylin Manson!" "Pshh, whatever, that's so high school. I used to have all his cds when I was younger and I knew all the lyrics." I look at Michelle in shock. Michelle looks like a perfectly normal girl who's currently working on her Doctorate in Urban Planning. "I'll refer you to one song 'Irresponsible Hate Anthem'..."
I blink at her. In English I say: "I am so all American I'll sell you suicide?"
In her adorable accent she replies: "I am totalitarian, I've got abortions in my eyes."
We burst into mutual laughter, the joy of recognition lighting out eyes. I find myself filled with a feeling that I haven't felt in years. The joy and excitement of knowing that I'm going to be living with somebody totally awesome. Only this time I'll have my own room, and it'll be just me and her in Tel Aviv.
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I'd known about the Algeria vs USA game for weeks now and had been hounding Aladdin about it since. "Its Arabs vs. Americans....we HAVE to see this together." As 5:00 pm rolls around we both start to hunt for a place to watch. Britain is playing against Slovenia at the same time and for some godforsaken reason everybody seems to be watching that game instead. Aladdin and I hunt around bars and campus faculties (in every cafeteria a screen has been set to perpetually run the games) until finally he takes me to a cafe on campus that, as he says, 'Is mostly Arab.'
This is the father of all understatements, every single person there is Arab. The room throbs angrily as one whenever USA approaches Algeria's goal, the shrieks of happiness are deafening whenever Algeria steals the ball. I feel very very Israeli-looking suddenly and it doesn't help when Hannah comes to join us in all her blond haired, blue eyed, religious-Jew glory. Together we two comprise the pro-American fraction of the room.
However there is not a trace of animosity to be found, some men sitting in front of Hannah turn to ask her if she can see well enough. I feel incredibly pleased.
The game is slow and tense, neither team getting a goal in for the entire 90 minute game (America got one but them the terrible referee denied it). The tension is high because if the two teams call a tie then Britain and Slovenia automatically proceed to the next round.
Finally, one minute into the time extension America sinks a goal. Immediately half the room gets up angrily and walks out. Aladdin smashes his coke glass on the table, sending sticky liquid flying through the air along with a slew of angry cuss words in Arabic. I sit there grinning like a fool, resisting the temptation to jump up and chant "U.S.A.U.S.A!"
I try to pry the reasons from her as my fingers run over the silty grit that covers the table. The past few days had been a sweltering affair, as a heavy Sharav (שרב, there's no english word for it) lay over the land. Sharav's always break dramatically with strong winds literally ripping the hot stagnant air to shreds. This sends fine dust and sand particulates billowing across the land, ultimately covering everything.
Michelle doesn't answer directly but I assume it has something to do with her Colombian roots and some rift in the Latino world that I am not privy to. Eventually she tires of the noise from the game so we retreat to the smokers room in the back where a bar dj is playing surprisingly good music. Michelle and I talk about girly things and about our future apartment together, stopping only to share a shot with the dj who was pleased by our compliments.
At some point I tell her about the wedding I had been at this past weekend. Notable because it featured a mosh pit with music by Rage Against the Machine and others (the bride even got knocked over, only to leap back up and grinningly smash into somebody else). Michelle claims that she has been to such a wedding as well. I try to one up her - "Yeah okay, but they played Marylin Manson!" "Pshh, whatever, that's so high school. I used to have all his cds when I was younger and I knew all the lyrics." I look at Michelle in shock. Michelle looks like a perfectly normal girl who's currently working on her Doctorate in Urban Planning. "I'll refer you to one song 'Irresponsible Hate Anthem'..."
I blink at her. In English I say: "I am so all American I'll sell you suicide?"
In her adorable accent she replies: "I am totalitarian, I've got abortions in my eyes."
We burst into mutual laughter, the joy of recognition lighting out eyes. I find myself filled with a feeling that I haven't felt in years. The joy and excitement of knowing that I'm going to be living with somebody totally awesome. Only this time I'll have my own room, and it'll be just me and her in Tel Aviv.
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I'd known about the Algeria vs USA game for weeks now and had been hounding Aladdin about it since. "Its Arabs vs. Americans....we HAVE to see this together." As 5:00 pm rolls around we both start to hunt for a place to watch. Britain is playing against Slovenia at the same time and for some godforsaken reason everybody seems to be watching that game instead. Aladdin and I hunt around bars and campus faculties (in every cafeteria a screen has been set to perpetually run the games) until finally he takes me to a cafe on campus that, as he says, 'Is mostly Arab.'
This is the father of all understatements, every single person there is Arab. The room throbs angrily as one whenever USA approaches Algeria's goal, the shrieks of happiness are deafening whenever Algeria steals the ball. I feel very very Israeli-looking suddenly and it doesn't help when Hannah comes to join us in all her blond haired, blue eyed, religious-Jew glory. Together we two comprise the pro-American fraction of the room.
However there is not a trace of animosity to be found, some men sitting in front of Hannah turn to ask her if she can see well enough. I feel incredibly pleased.
The game is slow and tense, neither team getting a goal in for the entire 90 minute game (America got one but them the terrible referee denied it). The tension is high because if the two teams call a tie then Britain and Slovenia automatically proceed to the next round.
Finally, one minute into the time extension America sinks a goal. Immediately half the room gets up angrily and walks out. Aladdin smashes his coke glass on the table, sending sticky liquid flying through the air along with a slew of angry cuss words in Arabic. I sit there grinning like a fool, resisting the temptation to jump up and chant "U.S.A.U.S.A!"