After a six-hour train ride from Munich (with an incident that I will post about later), I am already in the O2 Arena for the game between Alba and Jerusalem. One thing that I noticed before the game is the difference in food served to journalists before the game.

In Munich there were four kinds of meat, five kinds of bread, potatoes, coffee, juice and beer.

In Berlin there were only sparkling water.

Conclusion: in Berlin they are much more sensitive to Jewish holidays.

It took a team led by Dutch Captain, Dutch Coach, French and Croatian scorers and an injured Dutch superstar to bring back what was seemed lost: you play football for 90 minutes and then the Germany wins.

I was not disappointed by the final score but mainly by the lack of effort by the United players. For both teams it was also a preparation for a crucial league game on the weekend and for the first 60 minutes it seemed like Bayern is preparing United for a game against Bolton, not Chelsea. There was nothing that I saw yesterday that can make me believe that Bayern can win next week.

Of course everything changes if Rooney is really hurt. It would be sad to lose but that’s why it is important to look at football through historical perspective: Munich was never a good city for United destinies. We have lost… weiter lesen

I will tell you a story here. I will write about the theme of this story in later posts, but for now I will only tell this story and maybe another one and then I would like to dive into the theme.

I met a friend of mine a few days ago. We ate, talked football, drank Diet Coke, talked about the marvel of Sling Box (the eighth and most important wonder of the world), and just when we were about to leave, he stopped me. “I am reading your post”, he said, “I must tell you a story”.

He told me that he was invited as a guest to a symposium conducted by a local politician in Mitte. He shared the stage with another ten speakers, sitting on chairs that together shaped the figure of a half moon. The moderator was sitting in the middle. There were around 200 people in… weiter lesen

Anyone who knows me or anyone who ever read me knows that the chance to see me marching in support of Israel is slimmer than the chance to see Ahmadinejad showing up for Shabbat prayer at the local synagogue, but sometimes you have to stand up.

I am talking about the polite and mannered United Kingdom. Whereas I completely support the UK recent criticism of Israel (if substantitated) of forging its citizens’ passports and using them for covert operation, it is hard to draw the line. The UK had in recent years led the charge of covert anti-Semitism disguised as criticism toward Israel.

I think that UK’s actions are anything but helpful. The threat to arrest Israeli politicians and former army officers, the boycott of products and the attempt to inforce an academic boycott, are reinforcing the feeling in Israel that “everyone is against us”, a feeling that demonstates itself everytime Israel… weiter lesen

A few days ago, a Rabbi who  is living in Berlin got a phone call. He was sitting in his favorite cafe, drinking freshly squeezed grapefruit juice and breathing deeply in the spring of Spring and the fact that his calender allowed him some 45 free minutes. We are talking about some one who is so busy he can match George Clooney’s miles on three separate airlines.

He picked up his blackberry even though it was a blocked number. The woman on the other side introduced herself as someone working for a local advertising agency. They had a good conversation that started when he found out that she went to an American college in the place where he was born in America. You have to assume from this fact that she is educated and someone who saw and exposed herself to different cultures.

After a while she told the Rabbi that… weiter lesen

I like to cook. I like Falafel. I like to cook (actually to prepare and fry) Falafel at home. This fascination grew mostly out of frustration: most of the people that sell Falafel in Berlin should stand trial in front of the Hague international court in the tribunal dealing with crimes against culinarity.

I am very particular when it comes to cooking. When I was into my Asian phase, I talked to my daughter only in Mandarin and I was  reading only “The Art of War”, and when  I was into my Russian cooking phase we were dividing the Borsch equally between us, and then everyone of us would storm the other’s plate and grab whatever they could.

So when I started with Falafel I made sure to have the freshest herbs and made sure that someone will send me the special Tahini from Nablus. I bought the special iron net that… weiter lesen

I really wanted to write about something else. I think it was about falafel and integration or something about shopping at Obi, but then I read about the Champions League draw and it took me back 11 years ago,  to one early and glorious summer  day in Barcelona, one of the happiest days of my life.

A young Jewish student who finished his studies in New York and decided to move to Berlin for a while told me the foloowing story:

He met here a former student of his father, a professor at at an American university. The former student finds out that the American will be traveling for a week to a city where her parents live just at the same time that she will be there, and offers him to spend the weekend at their place. 

Of course, the story starts to blow out of proportion from the moment the former student is telling her parents that they are having a Jewish guest for a Shabbat dinner at their place. They feel that they are on a voyage to wonderland. First, they look for the nearest synagogue and try to understand how long it will take him to walk over to their house after the prayer. Then they are… weiter lesen

Earlier this morning we were waiting at the Strassebahn station with another dozen passengers. When it arrived a young guy with headphones plugged into his years–he couldn’t have been more than 18–entered first, made two steps and just stood there, blocking the enterance and not letting anyone else get in. Which was weird: he had like five meters to step in, but he couldn’t care less and just stood there.

When we arrived at the station we were supposed to get off, I started to pull the Kinder Wagon toward the exit door, but there were at least six people who stood outside and very close to the door, eager to get in. I had to tell them in broken German that maybe they want to try the breakthrough concept of letting people out before the get in, and that the Bahn isn’t going to run off, and only then they parted a… weiter lesen

It is time to say the obvious: After ten years we can come to the conclusion that these two kids, Israel and Palestine, can’t solve their problems on their own. They have been in this sandbox for too long and they have been hitting each other too hard that by now both are almost bleeding to death. It is time for the referee to step in and tell the sides: you must stop. Your bloodshed is staining the entire universe. Maybe you want to consider Chess instead of boxing?

But who can become this referee? I am counting out France and Italy. I mean, look who these people voted to lead their respective countries. I can’t trust them. England? Didn’t they make the mess to begin with? Besides, sometimes I read and see England’s and Spain’s action toward Israel and I think to myself: If Goebbels was around he would probably telegram… weiter lesen